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••••••••••••Ill 


Ex  Libris 
C.  K.  OGDEN 


REMINISCENCES 

OF 

CHARLES    WEST    COPE,    R.A, 


CHARLES    WEST     COPE,    R.  A. 


London:  Richard  Bentley  &•  Son,  1891. 


Photographed  by  Done  &•  Ball,  62,  Cheapside,  B.C. 


REMINISCENCES 


OF 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE 

R.A. 


BY 

HIS     SON 
CHARLES  HENRY  COPE,   M.A. 


LONDON 
RICHARD     BENTLEY     AND     SON 

gublislurs  in  ©rbinarg  to  ^er  JHajestg  the  Queen  ' 

1891 
[A/I  rights  reserved] 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 
EARLY  LIFE:  1811-1827. 

PAGE 

My  Aunt  Eliza — A  Broken  Arm — Leeds  Grammar  School — My 
Schoolmasters — An  Original  Trout-fly — Early  Fishing  Days 
— Sass's  Academy — Paternal  Letters — A  Chancery  Suit — My 
Father — An  Academy  Student — An  Original  Screw-propeller 
—  Stonhouse  —  Francis  Gary — Cornelius  Harrison — Boating 
Cruises — A  Stern  Chase — 'The  Skipper'  .  .  .  i — 35 


CHAPTER  II. 

FIRST  EXPERIENCES  ABROAD. 

Charles  Lamb  —  Edward  White  —  Ingres— Darley — Old  French 
Ladies  —  Geneva  —  Swiss  Scenery —  Italian  Pictures  —  The 
Galleries  at  Florence — A  Method  of  Painting — First  Impres- 
sions of  Rome  —  A  Tour  in  Umbria  —  Orvieto  —  Assisi  — 
Italian  Preaching  —  The  Old  Spectacle-maker  —  Terni  — 
Narni,  etc.  —  Hermit  of  Soracte  —  A  Miracle — Return  to 
Rome  .  .  ...  .  .  .  36 — 71 


CHAPTER  III. 

ITALY. 

S.  Martino — Passtum,  Pompeii,  Herculaneum — Albergo  de'  Poveri 
— Vesuvius  —  Cuma  — Vesuvius  —  An  Offended  Saint  —  Sor- 
rento—  Thomas  Fearnley  —  A  Human  Devil-fish  —  Pisa — 
Lucca — Florence — Mr.  Pickersgill,  R.A. — A  Plausible  Rogue 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

—  Siena  —  Florence  —Parma — Correggio — Giulio  Romano — 
Verona  to  Padua — Padua  to  Venice — Mr.  Pickersgill,  R.A. — 
The  Society  of  Ponte  Molle  ....  72—110 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EARLY  PICTURES — SHEEPSHANKS— LOVE-MAKING. 

A  Bow  Street  Magistrate  —  Holiday  Rambles — An  Imperfect 
Lesson  —  Richard  Redgrave,  R.A. — John  Sheepshanks  — 
George  Richmond,  R.A.  —  The  Benning  Family — 'The 
Course  of  True  Love,'  etc. — An  Exciting  Fishing  Match — 
Curious  Characters — A  Converted  Poacher — Barnard  Castle 
— The  Etching  Club — La  Belle  Mere — Marriage — Poor  Law 
Guardians — The  British  Public  .  .  .  .  in — 145 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  FRESCO-PAINTING  MOVEMENT. 

Westminster  Hall  Cartoons — Fishing  in  Ireland — Italy  revisited 
— Munich — Hess  of  Munich. — Pictures  at  Munich — Fresco- 
painting —  Partridge-shooting — North-Country  Clergymen — 
A  Queer  Parson — Longevity — The  '  Ever-Greens' — Dyce's 
Fresco,  Osborne — Order  of  the  Garter — Fresco  Details — 
Interrupted  Work — Elected  a  Member — Wells  Cathedral — 
Etching  Club— '  L' Allegro '  ....  146—180 


CHAPTER  VI. 

EXCURSION  WITH   GEORGE  RICHMOND. 

The  Coquet — A  Northumbrian  Beauty — Lancaster — The  Doctor 
and  the  Chemist — Sevenoaks — '  Managed  by  a  Committee ' 
— Salmon-fishing  at  Aboyne — Lance  and  the  Duke — Spey- 
fishing — Sir  John  Coleridge  and  the  '  Christian  Year ' — 
Starch  in  Fresco-painting — Brinkburn  Priory — Cheviot  Hills 
— Doctors  differ — The  '  Pilgrim  Fathers  ' — Royal  Academy 
Reforms,  etc. — Turner's  Will,  etc. — Picture-hanging — Details 
of  Fresco-painting  —  Movable  Fresco  —  Royal  Academy 
Matters — Chub-fishing — Hard  Nuts  .  .  181 — 219 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

FRESCO-PAINTING,  DUDDON  VALLEY,   ETC. 

PAGE 

Royal  Academy  Associates  —  Petworth,  Windsor,  etc.  —  Art 
Treasures,  Manchester  —  '  Wonderful  Walker'  —  Duddon 
Hall  —  Silecroft  —  Sedbergh  —  Manchester  —  Spurgeon  — 
Webster — Richmond — Charles  Dickens  and  'Squeers' — A 
Spirit  Visitor — A  Quaint  Courtship— Harwich — 'Liberators 
of  Spain' — Calais — Sleeplessness — Mark  Pattison  as  a  Sports- 
man— Fishing  Episodes — Old  Friends — Florence  Cope — 
Abinger — Boulogne  .....  220 — 253 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FRESCO-PAINTING,  ROYAL  ACADEMY  REFORM,  ETC. 

Peers'  Corridor  Frescoes  —  The  Queen's  Robing- Room  —  The 
Prince  Consort — An  Auction  —  Professor  of  Painting  — 
Academy  Reform  —  Paris  Exhibition,  1867  —  Death  of  his 
Wife  —  Durham  —  Dovedale — Various  Pictures — Geological 
Curiosities — Yachting  Cruises  ....  254 — 278 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TRIP     TO     AMERICA. 

Boston  City  —  Philadelphia  —  Judging  the  Pictures  —  American 
Hospitality — Black  Waiters — Quaker  Friends — Sunstroke — 
Niagara — Saratoga — Who  is  '  the  Great  Cope '  ?  .  279 — 298 


CHAPTER  X. 
THE    'LECTURE.' 

A  Hearty  Welcome — The  Commissioners — Committee  Meetings 
— Principle  of  Awards — Difficulties — Revision  of  the  Awards 
— Original  Principle  justified — Medals,  for  Painting,  a  Mis- 
take— Letter  to  the  Nation — An  Extraordinary  Scheme — 
The  '  American  Rubens  ' — Art  of  Different  Nations — Art  in 
America — American  Architecture — American  Feeling  towards 
England  .......  299—331 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    XI. 
CONCLUSION. 

PAGE 

'  Lieutenant  Cameron's  Return' — Second  Marriage — Henry  Ben- 
ning  Cope — His  Latter  Days — Dogs — Italian  Reminiscences 
— Bournemouth — Origin  of  the  Memoirs — Artists'  Models — 
Last  Letter — The  End  .....  332 — 353 


APPENDIX  I. 

Evidence  of  C.  W.  Cope,  R.A.,  before  the  Royal  Academy  Com- 
mission, 1863  .  .  .  .  .     354—374 


APPENDIX  II. 

Catalogue  of  Pictures  painted  by  C.  W.  Cope         .  .  375 — 388 

APPENDIX  III. 

Letters  on  the  House  of  Lords  fresco  .  .  .  389 — 392 

INDEX.  .  .....  392—396 


REMINISCENCES  OF 
CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


CHAPTER  I. 

EARLY  LIFE:   1811 — 1827. 

HAVING  been  frequently  asked  by  my  younger 
children  to  give  them  some  account  of  my  early 
life,  of  which  they  are  almost  entirely  ignorant, 
I  proceed  to  jot  down  what  I  remember,  as  well  as 
what  I  have  been  told,  of  my  very  few  relations. 

I  was  born  at  Leeds  (in  Park  Square)  on  July  28, 
1811.  I  had  a  sister  a  year  older.  Shortly  after 
my  birth  my  mother  died,  also  her  sister,  '  Aunt 
Nancy,'  of  consumption,  and  my  father  wras  left  a 
widower  with  two  children. 

He  was  an  enthusiastic  artist,  and  named  my 
sister  '  Ellen  Turner,'  and  me  '  Charles  West,' 
Cope,  after  two  eminent  painters,  both  of  whom  he 
knew  personally.  My  mother  also,  I  was  told,  was 
a  gifted  amateur.  Her  drawings  in  water-colour 
were  as  good  as  could  be,  mostly  of  figure  (rural) 
subjects,  with  refined  and  rich  colour,  of  which  I 

i 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


only  remember  two  or  three.  My  father  was  a 
water-colour  painter  in  landscape  pure  and  simple. 
In  those  early  days  there  was  not  a  great  demand  for 
modern  works  of  art,  so  that  he  gained  his  income 
by  giving  lessons.  He  had  a  great  number  of 
pupils,  and  was  well-to-do  in  worldly  matters,  and 
highly  respected. 

As  I  was,  I  believe,  rather  a  puny  child,  I  was 
sent  out  to  Woodhouse  Moor,  then  quite  in » the 
country,  to  be  nursed  by  a  very  strong,  healthy 
woman  named  Jane  Sharp,  whose  husband  was  the 
manager  of  a  steam-engine  near  their  cottage,  and  I 
have  been  told  that  I  always  accompanied  Jane  to 
take  the  dinner  to  her  husband,  William  Sharp, 
toddling  at  her  side  and  holding  her  gown.  She 
was  my  foster-mother,  and  to  her  I  attribute  the 
good  constitution  I  have  had,  which  to  a  great 
extent  must  have  modified  any  original  delicacy.  Jane 
Sharp  had  several  sons  and  one  daughter.  She  died 
in  middle  life,  but  her  husband  lived  to  a  good  old 
age,  and  in  his  last  years  I  helped  him  till  he  died. 

I  must  have  lived  at  Woodhouse  Moor  for  two  or 
three  years,  as  I  so  completely  acquired  the  Northern 
dialect  that,  when  I  returned  home,  I  was  unin- 
telligible, and  it  was  thought  advisable  to  send  me 
to  school  in  the  South.  I  was  therefore  sent  to 
London,  and  the  first  distinct  recollection  I  have  is 
of  sitting  on  the  knee  of  a  pale  lady,  who  kissed  me 
and  cried  ;  this  was  my  Aunt  Eliza  who  afterwards 
resided  in  my  father's  house.  From  thence  I  was 
sent  to  a  boarding-school  in  Camberwell  Grove  kept 


MY  A  UNT  ELIZA 


by  a  Mrs.  Johnson.  It  was  a  large  old-fashioned 
house  with  a  large  garden.  I  remember  our  going 
to  church,  two  and  two,  and  an  object  of  great  in- 
terest in  the  town  was  a  huge  tin  grasshopper  over 
a  grocer's  shop-door,  with  which  I  renewed  ac- 
quaintance many  years  after  in  a  walk  through 
Camberwell  to  Dulwich  Gallery.  Probably  it  still 
exists.  At  that  school  I  dislocated  my  right  arm. 
During  the  holidays  I  lived  with  Aunt  Eliza  and  a 
very  fat,  good-natured  old  lady,  called  Aunt  Strong, 
somewhere  in  Pimlico,  near  a  canal.  There  was  a 
very  handsome  collie  dog,  and  a  very  old  lady  who 
sat  and  rocked  in  a  chair  all  day,  and  muttered  to 
herself.  I  was  afraid  of  her,  as  she  could  not  endure 
'  noisy  children.'  There  was  a  rocking-horse  over- 
head which  caused  many  complaints.  The  collie  dog 
went  mad,  and  bit  Aunt  Eliza  in  the  arm,  and  it  was 
destroyed.  I  was  next  sent  to  school  at  a  Mr.  Terry's, 
at  Great  Marlow.  This  was  a  rough  experience  for 
a  boy  about  seven  years  old.  I  was  bullied  by  all, 
and  led  a  miserable  life.  On  half-holidays  we  went 
with  an  usher  into  the  woods,  and  one  of  the  amuse- 
ments of  the  older  boys  was  to  drive  small  boys 
away  and  leave  them  to  wander  about  when  lost. 
Another  was  to  climb  the  tall  beech-trees  to  take 
squirrels'  nests.  The  parents  were  killed  by  throw- 
ing at  them  short  clubs  loaded  with  lead.  These 
animals  were  afterwards  roasted  over  a  fire  in  a  hut 
in  the  play-ground,  built  of  interwoven  boughs 
covered  with  clay  and  thatched,  and  where  we 
imagined  ourselves  very  comfortable. 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


One  day  two  big  boys  each  held  an  end  of  a 
hedge-stake  on  their  shoulders  ;  another  placed  me 
astride  it,  and  if  I  attempted  to  hold  on  with  my 
hands  I  received  a  rap  on  the  knuckles,  so  that  I  was 
obliged  to  try  and  balance  myself.  The  boys  occa- 
sionally gave  a  jerk,  and  the  amusement  consisted 
in  seeing  the  awkward  contortions  of  the  victim. 
Of  course  I  was  upset,  and  falling  across  my  left 
arm,  it  was  dislocated,  and  also  broken  at  the  elbow- 
joint.  Mrs.  Terry,  while  waiting  for  the  surgeon, 
gave  me  some  pears,  which  I  ate.  When  the 
operation  of  replacing  the  bones  was  going  on  she 
fainted,  and  had  to  be  attended  to.  I  was  then 
bandaged  and  put  to  bed.  At  night  some  of  the 
big  boys  came  into  my  bedroom  and  roughly  tore 
down  the  clothes  to  see  what  a  broken  arm  was  like, 
holding  a  candle  over  the  arm,  which  fell  out  and 
burnt  the  arm  above  the  bandage,  and  raised  a  large 
blister.  I  was  then  left  for  a  few  days  in  peace.  At 
length  I  was  allowed  to  walk  in  the  master's  private 
garden.  The  boys,  however,  enticed  me  out,  and 
volunteered  to  wheel  me  in  a  barrow  into  a  neigh- 
bouring cornfield.  There  they  upset  me  into  a  dry 
ditch  full  of  thistles,  and  my  arm  slipped  out  of  the 
sling,  and  seemed  all  wrong  again.  Fever  set  in, 
and  I  was  freely  leeched,  sitting  in  the  hot  sun  in 
the  kitchen,  and  then  put  to  bed  again,  and  the 
surgeon's  amputating  tools  were  sent  for,  to  be 
ready  for  emergencies.  But  the  swelling  and  fever 
subsided,  and  again  I  was  allowed  in  the  garden.  I 
was  very  weak,  and  the  hot  sun  and  the  odour  of 


A  BROKEN  ARM 


scabious  flowers  made  me  feel  faint.  At  the  end  of 
a  hot  gravel  walk  I  found  a  cool  green  arbour,  and 
made  for  it ;  but  to  my  dismay  I  found  it  occupied 
by  a  (to  me)  beautiful  angel  in  a  thin  white  dress. 
I  retreated,  but  she  gently  rose  and  led  me  back, 
took  me  on  her  knee  and  kissed  me  ;  on  which  I 
fell  a-blubbering.  I  was  not  used  to  words  of  kind- 
ness. I  afterwards  had  to  undergo  what  was  called 
1  passive  motion '  of  the  elbow,  and  very  painful  it 
was,  bending  the  stiff  joint  by  main  force.  Also  I 
had  to  carry  an  oyster-barrel  filled  with  stones  to 
straighten  it.  In  the  master's  garden  was  a  fine 
plum-tree,  and  I  was  ordered  by  my  tyrants  to  shake 
the  tree  and  throw  them  the  plums  ;  but  at  last  my 
patience  was  exhausted,  and  I  refused,  and  dire 
were  the  threats  to  punish  me.  How  well  I  re- 
member the  outline  of  the  Marlow  woods  as  seen 
from  my  bedroom  window,  the  summer  fading  into 
autumn !  At  last  deliverance  came,  and  my  father 
took  me  to  London  to  consult  an  eminent  surgeon, 
Mr.  Clive.  I  hesitated  to  let  him  examine  me,  as  a 
foolish  woman  had  told  me  that  he  would  break  my 
arm  again  ;  but  the  kind  old  man  soothed  me,  and 
patted  my  head,  and  promised  me  not  to  do  any- 
thing without  my  leave.  I  then  suffered  him  ;  and 
he  said  it  was  a  good  cure  for  so  serious  a  smash,  and 
that  in  time  the  arm  would  recover  some  degree  of 
movement.  This  it  did,  but  it  has  never  since  been 
other  than  a  crooked  limb  with  limited  action.  Next 
day  I  was  taken  to  Mr.  Cartwright,  the  dentist,  and 
he  extracted  four  teeth,  '  to  make  room,'  he  said. 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


The  following  day  the  punishment  was  to  be  re- 
peated with  two  double  teeth  ;  but  I  got  under  a 
circular  table  and  clung  to  the  pillar,  and  kicked  so 
viciously  that  he  let  me  off!  My  father  then  took 
me  back  to  Yorkshire,  and  also  Aunt  Eliza.  I  re- 
member only  one  incident  on  the  journey.  Our 
chaise  was  going  through  Sherwood  Forest,  and 
some  men  called  to  our  postilion  to  stop.  My  father 
got  out,  and  found  two  men  with  a  prisoner  they 
had  taken  for  some  crime,  and  we  were  requested  to 
send  constables  from  the.  next  town,  which  we  did. 
The  prisoner  looked  a  strong  fellow,  but  he  was 
firmly  bound. 

After  my  return  to  Leeds  I  was  entered  as  a 
pupil  at  the  Grammar  School  there.  There  were 
three  masters.  I  was  under  the  third,  but  soon  got 
into  the  second  school  under  the  Rev.  W-  — .  He 
was  a  very  severe  master,  and  for  his  extreme 
cruelty  he  had  been  deprived  of  the  power  of 
flogging,  and  sent  up  all  delinquents  to  be  flogged 
by  the  head-master  (Rev.  G.  Walker,  Fellow  of 
Trinity,  Cambridge),  a  very  humane  man  (after  he'd 
had  breakfast).  To  make  up  for  this  deprivation, 
W—  -  invented  other  punishments,  such  as  pulling 
boys'  ears,  sometimes  till  they  bled,  knocking  knuckles 
with  his  ruler,  pulling  hair  out,  causing  boys  to  stand 
or  kneel  on  forms  holding  up  a  heavy  leaden  ink- 
stand, etc.,  until  some  imposition,  such  as  a  hundred 
lines  of  Virgil,  was  executed,  to  be  doubled  each 
day  if  they  were  not  finished.  Of  course,  the  debt 
increased  daily,  and  boys  sometimes  stood  up  for 


LEEDS  GRAMMAR  SCHOOL 


weeks  together,  till  some  great  holiday  wiped  out  the 
account,  or  the  delinquent  was  disabled  by  broken 
health.  W-  — 's  favourite  term  for  a  dull  boy  was 
to  call  him  '  it" — '  Doesn't  it  know  ?'  '  Can't  it  tell  ?' 
etc.  Under  this  treatment  boys  became  rebellious, 
so  that  at  last  the  method  pursued  was  as  follows  : 
to  call  up  (say)  the  fourth  form  ;  each  boy  was  asked 
in  turn,  '  Do  you  know  your  lesson  ?'  Those  who 
said  '  Yes '  remained  ;  those  who  said  '  No  '  were 
sent  down.  If  a  boy  who  said  '  Yes'  stumbled  in 
his  task,  he  was  punished  for  not  knowing  it  by  a 
hundred  lines  of  Virgil,  and  another  hundred  for 
lying ;  so  that  boys  found  that  the  only  safe  plan 
was  to  say  'No,'  and  thus  escape  both  work  and 
punishment.  This  system  had  the  ultimate  effect  of 
making  all  the  boys  entirely  idle,  save  two  or  three 
exceptionally  good  lads,  who  had  to  bear  the  taunts 

and   cruelties   of  W 's   ingenious    torments  and 

sarcasms.  As  a  specimen  of  these  he  would,  after 
getting  a  boy  thoroughly  puzzled,  set  him  some 
absurd  sum,  e.g.,  to  '  multiply  a  load  of  hay  by 
1 5f  Ib.  of  cheese,  minus  6  oz.  of  sugar '  !  The 
boys  became  quite  demoralized.  At  last,  one 

morning,  W came  with  a  blue  bag  full  of  unad- 

dressed  letters,  and  every  boy  was  called  up  and  one 
of  these  letters  given  him  addressed  to  his  parents, 
stating  that  he  was  an  incorrigible  idler,  sug- 
gesting his  removal  from  the  school,  and  re- 
questing an  answer.  The  boys  held  a  meeting,  but 
no  decision  could  be  arrived  at.  Some  would  give 
the  letter,  some  put  theirs  in  the  fire,  and  others 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


delayed  under  some  excuse.  I  was  of  the  first 
group,  and  gave  the  letter  to  my  sister  to  deliver  to 
my  father.  I  was  kept  at  home  for  two  or  three 
days.  Nothing  had  been  said  to  me,  but  my  father 
seemed  distressed.  At  last  I  was  called  in,  and  he 
spoke  sadly,  but  kindly,  and  asked  me  what  I  pro- 
posed to  do  in  life  if  I  threw  away  the  education 
offered  me.  He  gave  me  a  day  to  consider,  and 
when  I  was  recalled  I  told  him  that  I  had  thought 
it  well  over,  and  promised  to  do  my  very  best  for 

the  future.     So  a  letter  to  W was  written,  and 

I  returned  to  school.  I  believe  this  to  have  been 
the  turning  point  in  my  life,  as  I  was  led  for  the 
first  time  to  reflect  on  conduct  and  on  the  conse- 
quences of  idleness.  After  this  I  got  on  pretty  well 
at  school,  but  I  found  it  hard  work  trying  to  make 
up  for  lost  time,  often  sitting  up  late  at  night  doing 
with  difficulty  what  ought  to  have  been  easy.  How- 
ever, I  got  a  remove  into  the  fourth  form,  and  next 
term  gained  a  prize  and  removal  into  the  fifth,  under 
the  head-master,  to  my  great  content,  though  I 
found  myself  sadly  handicapped  by  my  previous 

idleness.      I  feel  it  right  to  say  that  W was  (in 

his  own  way)  kind  to  me  after  my  reform,  and  even 
lent  me  books,  such  as  logarithm-tables,  etc.,  out  of 
his  library.  About  this  time  we  had  a  holiday  on 
account  of  the  first  York  Musical  Festival,  and  (to 
show  how  little  malice  is  borne  by  boys)  we  of  the 
fourth  form  who  were  to  be  promoted  to  the  fifth 

determined  to  give  W a  breakfast  at  the  White 

Swan.      We   concocted   an    invitation,    and    I    and 


MY  SCHOOLMASTERS 


another  schoolfellow  were  deputed  to  take  the  note. 
When  we  had  delivered  it  to  the  servant  we  bolted  .f 

W accepted  our  invitation,  and  it  came  off 

most  successfully.  He  was  full  of  jokes  and  good 
stories,  and  we  thought  him  quite  charming,  and 
when  the  chaise  to  take  him  to  York  Festival  came 
to  the  door  we  all  went  down  to  escort  him,  and 
gave  him  hearty  cheers. 

Some  few  years  after  this  W- again  got  into 

trouble  for  cruelty,  and  was  prosecuted  by  a  boy's 
parent ;  and  I  was  told  that  in  his  defence  he  quoted 
this  breakfast  as  evidence  of  the  great  affection  his 
boys  had  for  him  !  He  got  off  with  a  reprimand,  I 
believe,  and  ultimately  retired  on  a  living. 

To  do  him  further  justice,  I  may  mention  that 
many  years  afterwards,  while  staying  with  my  friend, 
Professor  Chevalier,  at  Durham,  happening  to  speak 
of  schoolmasters,  I  told  him  some  of  my  experiences 

under  W ;  whereon  the  professor  said  that  he 

was  an  excellent  mathematician,  and  his  particular 
friend,  and  that  a  clock  he  much  valued  was  con- 
structed and  given  to  him  by  W ,  '  and  he  was 

a  good  man' 

I  did  not  get  higher  in  the  school  than  the  upper 
fifth,  reading  Xenophon,  Homer,  and  Virgil,  and 
about  half  of  Euclid,  most  of  which  I  have  for- 
gotten. My  father  took  me  to  say  farewell  to 
Walker,  and  he  expressed  sorrow  at  my  going,  as 
he  thought  I  should  have  done  well  if  I  had  remained 
and  gone  to  the  University.  Under  Walker  I  never 
had  even  an  imposition.  Our  only  complaint  of  him 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


was  that  he  was  needlessly  severe  before  breakfast, 
and  rather  drowsy  after  dinner.  He  was  a  good 
man,  but  rather  a  heavy  preacher,  like  many  other 
mathematicians.  He  held  the  living  of  Trinity 
Church,  Leeds.  I  will  not  dwell  further  on  school 
experiences,  except  to  say  that  we  had  fights,  of 
course,  and  one  grand  battle  on  a  larger  scale. 

During  my  school-days  I  was  expected  to  draw 
at  home.  My  father  fancied  he  discovered  in  me 
a  talent  for  art ;  and  I  had  to  draw  eyes,  noses  and 
mouths  from  the  antique,  which  I  thought  dull  work, 
and  I  did  them  badly.  What  I  liked  better  was 
drawing  groups  from  prints  in  the  Choiseul  gallery, 
from  Cuyp,  Paul  Potter,  Terburg,  etc.,  and  for  these 
I  got  praised.  During  one  summer  holiday  I  went 
with  two  or  three  school-fellows  to  stay  in  a  farm 
boarding-house  at  Ilkley,  where  I  was  told  to  make 
one  drawing  a  day  from  nature,  such  as  rustic 
weeds,  etc.  Not  ever  having  seen  a  finished  draw- 
ing of  such  things,  I  made  bad  selections,  and  worse 
copies,  and  the  sketches  were  ignominiously  torn 
up.  In  fact,  I  saw  no  beauty,  and  took  no  interest 
in  them  ;  and  bathing,  cricket  and  other  games, 
and  rambles  over  Rumbold  Moor,  had  far  greater 
attractions  for  me.  Ilkley  in  those  days  was  a 
beautiful  sequestered  moorland  village  with  thatched 
cottages.  I  was  also  obliged  to  be  held  under  the 
ice-cold  water  at  the  wells  in  order  to  strengthen 

o 

my  broken  elbow,  but  all  it  did  was  to  make  it 
ache  fearfully.  Among  the  books  I  read  most 
constantly  for  pleasure  was  one  called  '  Voyages 


AN  ORIGINAL  TROUT-FLY  11 


round  the  World,'  and,  still  more  dear,  old  Izaak 
Walton,  of  which  I  never  tired,  and  it  begot  in  me 
such  a  love  of  pastoral  scenery  and  angling  pursuits 
that  it  tinged  my  whole  after-life.  When  he  spoke 
of  fly-fishing  I  supposed  he  meant  mostly  house-flies  ; 
so  I  caught  a  blue-bottle,  and  as  silks  and  feathers 
were  mentioned,  I  got  a  small  piece  of  blue-black 
satin,  and  tied  it  into  a  bunch  stuffed  with  cotton- 
wool :  for  wings  I  got  the  fibres  from  a  pen  ;  I 
tried  black  beads  for  eyes,  and  made  a  monster 
large  enough  and  ugly  enough  to  frighten  all  the 
fish  in  the  river !  However,  one  evening  I  saw  a 
man  fly-fishing  for  dace,  and  his  flies  were  a  revela- 
tion to  me,  so  small  and  thin  that  I  wondered  to 
see  him  catch  fish.  I  described  my  fly,  at  which 
he  roared  with  laughter.  I  got  him  to  take  me 
with  him  sometimes,  and  thus  became  initiated  into 
the  mysteries  of  fly-fishing. 

One  day  1  met  a  gentleman  with  him,  and  he 
was  very  kind  to  me,  and  took  me  to  his  house 
and  showed  me  how  to  dress  flies,  and  at  last 
asked  me  to  go  with  him  to  fish  in  the  Wharfe  at 
Harewood.  I  asked  leave  at  home,  and  was  given 
some  money,  and  went  early  to  bed  so  as  to  wake 
in  time  (four  o'clock)  next  morning.  I  arranged 
with  the  watchman  to  call  me  by  pulling  a  string 
with  a  bullet  at  the  end  let  down  out  of  window, 
attached  to  my  toe.  I  slept  restlessly  ;  and  hearing 
the  noise  of  footsteps,  I  got  up,  thinking  that  the 
servants  were  getting  up,  but  they  were  only  going 
to  bed ;  so  I  turned  in  again,  and  was  awakened 


12  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


by  tugs  at  my  toe,  when  I  found  I  had  got  into 
bed  the  wrong  way,  my  feet  being(  on  the  pillow. 
I  was  soon  ready,  and  went  out  in  the  dark  to  my 
friend's  house,  and  pulled  the  kitchen-bell  as  directed. 
He  let  me  in,  and  I  found  a  nice  breakfast  of  coffee, 
ham  and  eggs  on  the  table  in  front  of  the  kitchen 
fire.  We  started  soon  after  five,  and  walked  eight 
or  nine  miles  to  Harewood  Bridge,  on  a  beautiful 
summer  morning.  The  only  live  things  were  the 
swallows  flying  about.  My  friend  gave  me  one 
fly,  and  told  me  how  to  throw  my  line,  but  I  soon 
got  into  trouble,  lost  my  fly  and  broke  my  line,  so 
I  preferred  going  with  him  to  look  on.  He  took 
nothing,  however,  and  about  noon  heavy  rain  came 
on  and  the  river  was  flooded.  Then  he  procured 
some  cakes  of  a  wasp's  nest,  and  fished  with  these, 
sitting  squatted  on  the  grass,  but  still  without 
result ;  so  we  adjourned  to  a  snug  little  inn  and 
had  more  ham  and  eggs  by  the  fire,  and  he  told 
me  wonderful  fishing  stories  till  bed-time.  Next 
morning,  at  seven,  more  ham  and  eggs,  and  out  we 
went ;  but  the  river  was  too  thick,  so  we  set  out 
on  our  return,  and  were  joined  by  a  professional 
angler  who  had  a  basket  full  of  coarse  fish,  chub 
and  dace,  with  a  trout  or  two.  The  man's  stories 
and  language  were  coarse  in  the  extreme — a  bright, 
keen  little  sunburnt  vagabond — but  my  friend 
seemed  to  extract  much  fun  and  information  from 
him  on  fera  natura,  and  I  then  and  there  became  a 
firm  devotee. 

One  summer,   during   the   holidays,    I   was   taken 


EARLY  FISHING  DAYS  13 

by  my  father,  with  a  friend,  for  a  tour  in  Teesdale. 
Oh,  the  delight !  I  was  about  thirteen  years  old. 
We  took  the  coach  to  Greta  Bridge.  What  a 
Paradise  it  seemed— the  large  coaching  inn  ;  the 
bridge  over  the  Greta  ;  the  beautiful  stream,  wind- 
ing through  meadows  or  dashing  down  ravines  and 
over  rocks  !  I  got  up  at  daylight,  and  went  to  a 
deep  pool  at  the  end  of  the  meadow  above  the 
bridge,  and  having  caught  a  few  large  flies,  blue- 
bottles, etc.,  I  lay  down  on  my  face,  and  just  peered 
over  the  edge  of  a  rock,  and  dropped  a  tempting 
fly  on  to  the  water ;  raised  him  again  and  dropped 
him  artfully  ;  and  at  last  a  large  trout  eyed  him  and 
rose.  I  struck  too  soon,  and  missed  him  ;  so  I 
tried  him  again,  and  gave  more  time,  and  next  time 
he  rose  he  hooked  himself  and  I  pulled  him  out, 
a  pounder.  I  soon  caught  another ;  and  hearing 
footsteps  in  the  long  grass  I  saw  my  father,  who 
had  been  waiting  breakfast,  and  was  alarmed  at  my 
long  absence.  So  I  returned  with  him  to  the  inn  ; 
and  while  walking  a  mist  overspread  my  eyes,  and 
I  nearly  fainted,  from  long  fasting  and  lying  in  the 
sun ;  but  my  father  supported  me,  and  a  good 
breakfast  on  the  two  big  trout  soon  restored  me. 
I  afterwards  bathed  in  this  deep  pool  while  my 
father  was  sketching,  and  swam  across  it  and  back  ; 
and  when  he  saw  that  I  could  swim  he  seemed 
pleased,  and  then  gave  me  leave  to  bathe  in  the 
river  with  other  boys,  which  before  had  been  refused 
me.  We  went  to  Greta  Woods,  Rokeby,  Barnard 
Castle,  up  to  Middleton  and  over  the  Winch  Bridge 


14  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

(then  made  of  planks,  and  supported  on  chains), 
and  so  up  to  the  High  Force  waterfall  and  the 
Caldron  Snout,  a  long  cascade  down  the  hill-side 
coming  out  of  a  moorland  pool  called  the  Wheel, 
which  may  be  considered  as  the  source  of  the  river 
Tees.  We  returned  by  Richmond,  where  I  had 
another  fishing  adventure.  My  father  went  to  the 
shop  of  a  Mr.  Saunderson  to  buy  some  gloves  ; 
and  on  the  counter  I  spied  some  splendid  artificial 
large  white  evening  moths  for  fishing,  in  which  I 
was  deeply  interested.  The  old  man  kindly  talked 
to  me  about  fishing,  and  said  he  was  going  to 
try  these  moths  in  the  evening,  and  offered  to  take 
me  with  him.  I  joyfully  assented,  as  my  father 
and  his  friend  were  going  to  the  theatre  to  hear 
Madame  Catalani,  who  was  '  starring '  in  the  country 
towns.  Mr.  Saunderson  waited  till  it  was  dark, 
but  set  me  to  work  '  dapping '  for  trout.  I  got 
hold  of  a  large  one  ;  but  in  trying  to  land  him  my 
short  line  caught  on  a  bough,  and  the  fish  hung 
suspended  in  the  air.  At  last  the  hook  straightened, 
and  he  fell  back  into  the  water.  It  was  now  dark, 
so  I  sat  under  a  tree  to  see  Mr.  Saunderson  throw- 
ing his  great  white  moth  skilfully  over  a  deep 
curling  pool,  but  without  raising  a  fish.  Still  he 
persevered,  for  hours,  and  I  got  very  cold  and 
sleepy.  At  last  he  said  to  me,  'What  can  those 
glancing  lights  be,  far  away  ?'  Presently  they  came 
nearer,  and  we  heard  shouts.  It  was  my  father, 
with  five  or  six  men,  ostlers,  etc.,  from  the  inn, 
looking  for  us  !  It  seems  he  had  returned  from  the 


S^SS'S  ACADEMY 


opera,  and  went  to  see  me  safe  in  bed,  and  when  he 
found  the  bed  empty,  became  alarmed,  and  so  set  out 
to  look  for  me.  Mr.  Saunderson  said  quietly,  '  I 
didn't  think  of  the  time.'  It  was  about  two  o'clock  ; 
and  but  for  this  interruption  I  believe  he  would  have 
gone  on  all  night.  Then  we  all  tramped  home, 
two  or  three  miles  through  the  fields,  and  went  to 
bed  at  our  inn.  This  tour  in  Teesdale  made  a 
great  impression  on  me,  and  its  consequences 
tinctured  my  whole  future  life,  and  also  created  in 
me  a  passionate  love  for  romantic  scenery. 

My  next  great  change  of  scene  and  life  was 
being  transferred  to  London,  as  a  pupil  in  Mr. 
H.  Sass's  Academy  of  Art  in  Bloomsbury. 

[Here  I  interrupt  my  father's  narrative  to  supply 
an  omission.  He  appears  to  have  gone  to  London 
in  August,  1827,  being  then  just  sixteen  years  old, 
and  to  have  stayed  first  for  a  month  on  a  visit  to  an 
old  friend  of  his  father's,  D.  F.  Ryan,  Esq.,  an 
assistant  secretary  in  the  Excise  Office,  London.  I 
give  extracts  from  letters  from  his  father  which  he 
had  preserved,  probably  the  last  he  received  from 
him,  to  fill  up  the  interval : 

'  Leeds,  Sept.  10,  1827. 

'  MY  DEAR  CHARLES  .  .  . 

'  From  Mr.  Sass  I  have  received  two  letters, 
the  one  explanatory  of  your  wish  to  remain  in 
London  with  him.  ...  Be  assured,  my  dear  boy, 
everything  that  lies  in  my  power  shall  be  for  your 


CHARLES-WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


improvement  and  advantage  consistent  with  my 
means,  and  I  trust  I  need  not  urge  your  exertions  in 
every  branch  of  your  studies  that  may  be  of  benefit 
to  you  as  an  artist  and  a  gentleman.  As  so  much 
depends  upon  self,  remember  the  trite  path  is  perse- 
verance and  industry.  I  do  not  give  you  this  as  a 
sermon,  but  only  continually  to  bear  in  mind  the 
duty  you  owe  yourself.  I  hope  ere  this  Maria 
(Sass  ?)  has  procured  for  you  the  lodgings  that  we 
wished  her  to  do,  for  it  is  time  to  think  of  leaving 
the  hospitable  roof  of  our  good  friend  Mr.  Ryan,  the 
month  having  elapsed  that  we  proposed  your  visit 
should  extend  ;  in  fact,  we  rather  expected  a  line- 
only  a  line — from  her,  for  I  dare  say  her  time  is  fully 
occupied  with  her  little  invalid,  to  say  if  her  applica- 
tion had  been  attended  with  success.  You  never 
mentioned  her  name  in  your  letter  of  this  morning, 
nor  the  health  of  little  D—  — .  On  this  subject, 
in  your  next  and  future  correspondence,  be  more 
explicit.  I  say  next,  because  we  do  hope  every 
Saturday  you  will  not  fail  to  send  us  a  line  by  the 
same  conveyance ;  indeed,  I  am  sure  Mr.  Ryan 
will  give  you  a  frank  at  any  time,  so  that  you  will 
have  no  excuse  on  this  subject.  We  are  only 
anxious  now  as  to  your  lodgings  being  comfortable 
and  respectable,  having  given  my  consent  for  six 
months,  or  probably  twelve,  if  your  improve- 
ment will  justify  this  indulgence.  I  shall  send  you 
an  early  remittance,  that  you  may  not  feel  at  all 
uneasy.  I  only  wait  for  the  opportunity  of  sending 
it  securely.  ...  I  propose  to  carry  you  on  for  six 


PATERNAL  LETTERS  17 

months  (twenty  pounds),  or  the  deposit  for  twelve 
months,  agreeable  to  Mr.  Sass's  printed  terms.  .  .  . 
I  think  a  few  good  studies  in  black-lead  would  make 
a  pleasant  change,  and  fill  up  a  few  vacant  hours 
very  agreeably,  but  I  should  wish  you  to  read,  as 
much  as  opportunity  will  allow  you,  Rollins'  "  Ancient 
History,"  the  Histories  of  England  (Hume)  and 
Scotland.  Travels  and  biography  will  be  both 
pleasant  and  instructive.  All  these  you  will  be  able 

to  get  from  Mr.  R or  a  good  circulating  library. 

Have   you   seen    Miss    Sass  ?     If  not,    I    am    sure 

Mr.    S will   introduce   you,  and   they  will  be 

happy  to  see  you,  for  they  know  "papa  "  very  well. 
Aunt  and  Ellen  join  in  love,  and  with  a  father's 
blessing,  believe  me  very  affectionately, 

'C.  COPE.' 

'Leeds,  Sept.  17,  1827. 
'  DEAR  CHARLES, 

'  You  will  perceive  by  aunt's  note  that  your 
"time  of  duration"  is  extended  to  a  twelvemonth 
for  study  in  London.  During  the  proposed  period  I 
hope  and  trust  you  will  lose  no  opportunity  of  im- 
proving the  time  allotted  you  ;  indeed,  much  may  be 
done  in  that  time,  and  if  this  advantage  is  taken  as  it 
ought  to  be,  it  will  lay  the  foundation — and,  I  trust, 
a  good  foundation — for  your  future  prospects.  .  .  . 

Aunt  has  just  heard  from  Mr.  W ,*  who  is  very 

anxious  to  be  informed  of  what  you  intend  to  be. 
His  inquiry  will  be  answered  speedily  by  announcing 

*  '  Wildgoose,'  I  believe.— ED. 


j8  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

the  profession  of  artist.  Your  friend  Brownhill  has 
likewise  interrogated  me  as  to  your  pursuits.  Con- 
vince all  your  friends  by  your  skill  that  you  have  not 
selected  a  profession  in  vain.  Our  friend  Bellamt 
was  here  as  usual  last  night.  He  has  just  produced 
a  new  farce  at  our  theatre,  called  "  The  Devil 
amongst  the  Doctors  "(I  regret  to  say  I  was  not 
present).  .  .  .  God  bless  you,  and  believe  me  affec- 
tionately yours, 

'C.   COPE.' 

I  now  leave  my  father  to  continue  his  own 
narrative.] 

I  lodged  in  Mornington  Crescent  with  a  Mrs. 
Borland,  who  had  also  as  lodger  Mr.  J.  B.  Kingdom, 
a  clerk  in  the  Admiralty,  and  a  kind  of  second  cousin 
of  ours.  I  went  to  Sass's  from  10  till  4.  Here  I 
had  to  draw  outlines  from  the  antique,  and  then 
shade  a  ball  and  a  profile  antique  mask.  These 
were  sent  home,  and  elicited  the  wrarmest  praise 
from  my  dear  father.  But  now  followed  the  first 
great  grief  of  my  life.  I  received  a  letter  announcing 
my  father's  sudden  death.  He  was  returning  from 
Crofton  (I  believe)  on  the  stage  coach.  The  coach- 
man was  drunk,  ran  against  a  coal  cart,  upset  the 
coach,  and  was  killed.  My  father  died  two  days 
afterwards  from  concussion  of  the  brain.  He  never 
spoke  after  the  accident.  It  was  a  terrible  time,  and 
I  will  only  hastily  refer  to  the  sad  results.  After  the 
funeral,  in  Chapeltown  burial-ground,  where  I  was 

*  See  infra. 


A  CHANCERY  SUIT  19 

dazed  with  the  number  of  sympathizing  friends  and 
carnages,  the  sad  business  of  administration  began. 
My  poor  Aunt  Eliza  was  struck  down  with  nervous 
fever,  and  never  entirely  recovered.  One  day  her 
brother,  who  to  us  was  an  entire  stranger,  appeared, 
and  claimed  to  administer  as  next-of-kin,  our  poor 
aunt  being  hors  de  combat.  He  seemed  very  sedate, 
said  kind  words,  and  took  things  into  his  own  hands  ; 
and  one  morning  took  my  sister  and  me  to  the  vicar 
of  Leeds,  and  we  were  required  to  sign  a  paper 
stating  that  we  had  confidence  in  him  as  our  guardian. 
(This  is  the  custom  in  the  province  of  York  only.) 
My  sister  and  I  thought  that,  as  we  were  over 
fourteen  and  fifteen,  we  ought  to  have  been  con- 
sulted, and  as  the  vicar  merely  mumbled  over  a 
form  in  a  perfunctory  manner,  we  had  not  really 
understood  it. 

And  so  things  went  on  at  home  in  administration, 
all  business  matters  devolving  upon  my  sister,  while 
I  was  sent  back  to  London.  Here  I  told  J.  B. 
Kingdom  and  other  friends  what  had  happened,  and 
they  were  more  than  dissatisfied,  and  hinted  that, 
unless  we  resisted  the  appointment  of  the  guardian, 
he  would  probably  make  as  free  with  our  little 
property  as  he  had  already  done  with  his  sister 
Nancy's,  for  whom  he  had  been  trustee  !  So  I  was 
recommended  to  speak  to  Mr.  Sass,  and  he  took  me 
to  Mr.  Walls,  his  lawyer,  who  said  we  must  apply  to 
the  Lord  Chancellor.  The  would-be  guardian  ob 
jected,  and  a  lawsuit  resulted,  by  which  we  were 
freed  from  the  said  guardian.  My  Northern  friends 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


suggested  Mr.  Sass  in  his  place.  He  assented,  and 
administered  the  estate  most  honourably  and  satis- 
factorily. The  expenses  of  the  lawsuit  were  heavy. 
My  poor  afflicted  Aunt  Eliza  and  my  sister  came  to 
live  in  London,  and  Aunt  Strong  joined  us,  and  we 
took  a  house  in  Clarendon  Square,  but  left  it  in 
a  year,  as  it  did  not  answer,  Aunt  E.'s  nervous- 
ness causing  too  great  friction  in  the  whole  house- 
hold. So  (great)  Aunt  Strong  took  her  niece  to 
live  at  Shepherd's  Bush,  where  there  was  a  large 
garden,  and  it  was  hoped  that  the  fresh  air  and  quiet 
might  restore  her.  I  took  lodgings  in  Great  Ormond 
Street  with  my  sister,  but  this  arrangement  did  not 
answer  either  ;  so  we  gave  it  up,  and  she  boarded 
with  a  lady  in  Mornington  Crescent,  where  also 
lived  our  friends  the  Ryans.  Thus  she  had  a  little 
society,  and  her  neighbour,  J.  B.  Kingdom,  proposed, 
and  they  were  married. 

The  end  of  Aunt  Eliza  was  tragical.  She  and  Aunt 
Strong  were  surreptitiously  removed  from  their  cheer- 
ful home  at  Shepherd's  Bush  to  her  scheming 
brother's  house  in  London.  There  she  lingered  in 
her  bedroom  in  nervous  misery,  tilt  death  relieved 
her  from  her  tormentor  by  mortification  of  the  feet. 
She  had  made  a  will  in  our  favour,  but  her  intentions 
were  never  carried  out.  Possibly  the  will  was 
destroyed,  and  the  brother,  as  next-of-kin,  secured 
her  little  property,  as  I  was  told  he  had  already 
made  away  with  his  other  sister's,  having  spent  the 
principal  and  for  a  time  paid  her  what  was  sup- 
posed to  be  interest.  He  lived  for  years,  and  de- 


MY  FATHER  21 


scended  so  low  as  to  solicit  alms  from  me !  This 
period  of  my  life  was  a  painful  and  an  anxious  one, 
and  its  recollection  still  causes  a  pang.  The  moral 
atmosphere  seemed  tainted,  and  we  were  relieved 
when  the  threatened  tragedy  was  over,  and  we  could 
again  breathe  a  pure  and  healthy  atmosphere,  free 
from  the  contagion  of  that  miserable  evil-doer. 

My  father  was  a  handsome,  well-built  man,  about 
5  ft.  10  in.  in  height,  with  a  bald  forehead.  He  was 
a  great  enthusiast  in  art,  collected  engravings  largely, 
and  was  a  great  lover  of  Turner's  works,  and  from 
him  I  obtained  the  collection  called  '  Liber  Studi- 
orum.'  He  also  had  fine  engravings  of  Turner's 
'  South  Coast,'  and  the  Northern  series,  engraved 
in  line,  and  hundreds  by  other  masters.  He  had 
a  keen  sense  of  humour.  He  was  never  so  happy 
as  when  listening  to  reading  aloud  in  the  evenings 
while  drawing,  and  woe  to  me  if  I  crept  in  to  listen 
and  had  not  done  my  lessons.  He  was  a  deeply 
religious  man  and  a  water-drinker.  I  used  to  be 
amazed  at  the  number  of  white  wraps  round  his 
neck,  reaching  up  to  his  ears,  a  la  George  IV.,  with 
large  frills  down  the  front  of  his  shirt.  In  winter  he 
wore  a  drab  great-coat  and  thick  yellow  buckskin 
gloves,  which  emitted  a  powder  when  he  clapped  his 
hands.  He  wore  Wellington  boots,  which  he  always 
aired  before  putting  on  by  dropping  into  them  a 
lighted  paper,  a  performance  to  me  as  a  child  highly 
interesting.  On  Sunday  afternoons  he  had  a  doze, 
with  a  yellow  silk  handkerchief  thrown  over  his  head. 
In  the  evenings  of  Sunday  my  sister  and  I  had  to 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


read  aloud  grave  books,  such  as  Hannah  More,  till 
the  weekly  arrival  of  his  friend,  F.  T.  Bellam,*  put  a 
joyful  stop  to  our  reading. 

During  all  the  weary  time  that  succeeded  my 
father's  death  I  was  hard  at  work  in  drawing  and 
painting,  and  in  1828  I  was  admitted  as  a  pro- 
bationer,t  and  afterwards  a  student!  in  the  Royal 
Academy  at  Somerset  House,  Mr.  Hilton,  who 
succeeded  Fuseli,  being  the  keeper.  He  was  to 
me  always  encouraging,  except  at  times  of  careless 
work,  when  he  would  say  to  me,  '  There  is  no 
interest  in  your  drawing ;  you  had  better  be  a  good 
carpenter  than  a  bad  artist.'  He  was  a  painter  of 
high  ambition,  eclectic,  rather  leaning  to  the  school 
of  the  Caracci.  His  'Christ  crowned  with  Thorns,'§ 
'  The  Crucifixion,'  and  '  Sir  Calepine  rescuing 
Selina,'  from  Spenser,  were  fine  examples.  After 
his  early  death  the  last-named  was  purchased  by  his 
old  pupils  in  the  Royal  Academy,  amongst  whom  I 
was  energetic,  as  a  testimony  of  their  respect,  and 
presented  to  the  National  Gallery.  Our  scheme  of 
purchasing  it  having  been  reported  to  the  Royal 
Academy,  the  committee  were  invited  to  meet  the 
president  and  council,  who  sanctioned  and  supported 
it.  There,  for  the  first  time,  I  saw  the  venerated 
Wilkie  amongst  the  others.  The  picture  was  duly 
accepted  by  the  trustees,  and  hung  amongst  the  Old 
Masters,  with  an  inscription ;  but  unfortunately  it 

*  See  letter,  supra. 

t  July  17.  |  Dec.  8,  1828. 

§  Formerly  the  altar-piece,  and  now  in  the  north  transept  of  St. 
Peter's  Church,  Eaton  Square. 


AN  ACADEMY  STUDENT  23 

was  painted  greatly  with  asphaltum,  and  the  heat 
of  the  room  caused  the  colour  to  'flow'  to  such  an 
extent  that  it  was  removed,  for  treatment  !  I  never 
saw  it  again. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  Wilkie  had  an 
'  asphaltum '  fever,  and  this  pigment  caused  the  de- 
struction of  some  of  his  finest  works,  e.g.,  '  The  Duke 
of  Wellington  writing  his  Despatches,'  and  '  John 
Knox,'  a  picture  which,  for  power  and  glowing 
colour,  when  first  exhibited,  I  never  saw  equalled. 
It  is  now  a  comparative  wreck. 

About  my  nineteenth  or  twentieth  year  I  took 
my  first  lodgings  in  Great  Russell  Street,  and 
painted  my  first  attempt  at  a  picture,  lachimo  steal- 
ing Imogen's  jewels  as  she  slept — a  very  poor 
performance — and  when  I  showed  it  to  Mr.  Hilton 
he  said  it  had  little  in  it  to  praise,  and  he  hoped 
better  things  from  me.  He  was  right.  While 
living  here  I  got  into  bad  health,  and  having  read 
something  about  vegetarianism,  I  determined  to  try7 
it.  I  ate  nothing  but  bread  and  vegetables  for  a 
fortnight,  and  thought  I  had  made  a  discovery  ; 
but  I  had  then  such  a  craving  for  meat  that  I 
ordered  at  a  dining-house  a  rumpsteak.  While 
waiting  for  it,  I  felt  faint,  and  went  into  the  passage 
entrance  for  fresh  air.  There  I  fainted,  and  when 
I  recovered  I  found  myself  in  a  back-yard  with 
cooks  and  people  round  me  sprinkling  water  over 
me.  I  resumed  my  coat  and  necktie,  and  was  told 
my  steak  was  ready.  I  paid  for  it  and  went  home 
without  tasting  it.  Then  I  had  inflammation,  and 


24  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Mr.  Sass  sent  me  some  brandy  and  laudanum,  and 
I  went  to  bed.  I  awoke  early.  It  was  a  bright 
morning,  so  I  dressed,  took  a  change  in  a  fishing 
basket,  and  went  to  the  White  Horse  Cellar,  and 
mounted  the  box-seat  of  the  Brighton  coach  at  six 
o'clock.  I  sometimes  felt  giddy,  but  held  on.  It 
rained,  and  I  got  wet. 

At  Brighton  lived  some  family  friends,  Mr.  Busby 
and  family,  and  I  had  been  told  I  ought  to  call 
on  them  before  proceeding  on  my  contemplated 
little  tour  round  the  coast.  Mr.  B.  was  out,  but 
Mrs.  B.  pressed  me  to  stay  dinner.  I  declined, 
and  then  confessed  I  was  wet.  They  made  me 
wear  a  long-tailed  black  coat  of  Mr.  Busby's.  The 
tails  nearly  touched  the  ground.  When  he  came 
in  he  was  amused  at  my  appearance,  and  so  were 
his  daughters,  and  I  was  laughed  at.  This  made 
me  feel  more  at  home.  Instead  of  leaving  that 
evening  I  stayed  for  a  fortnight.  My  friend  Mr. 
Busby  was  by  profession  an  architect,  but  he  had 
a  great  interest  in  mechanics.  He  one  day  asked 
me  to  hire  a  boat,  and  with  a  sailor  we  rowed  it  to 
Shoreham  Harbour.  Here  he  met  us  with  a  horse 
and  cart  filled  with  machinery.  Two  carpenters 
set  to  work,  and  fitted  a  wooden  wheel  with  diagonal 
flanges  outside  the  stern  of  the  boat.  A  long 
crank  with  two  handles  at  the  end  reached  amid- 
ships. He  then  told  us  '  You  are  the  motive- 
power  ;  as  soon  as  the  boat  is  well  afloat  you  are 
to  go  on  turning.'  He  took  his  place  in  the  stern, 
the  large  wheel  behind  him.  On  his  signal  '  Off,' 


AN  ORIGINAL  SCREW-PROPELLER  25 

we  turned  and  turned  ;  the  boat  progressed  rapidly, 
and  the  inventor  was  in  ecstasy.  '  Go  on,  go  on  ; 
now  we  move !'  The  experiment  was  a  magnificent 
success.  This  was,  I  believe,  the  first  application 
of  the  screw  system  for  propelling  steamers.  We 
all  promised  secrecy.  Some  adjustments  were 
necessary,  as  the  rotation  of  the  wheel  ladled 
quantities  of  water  over  his  head  and  shoulders, 
but  he  didn't  mind  it.  '  It's  the  principle  I  care 
for/  he  cried.  At  last  the  '  motive-power '  was 
exhausted,  and  we  reminded  him  we  were  not 
steam-engines  !  So  the  gear  was  taken  to  pieces 
and  replaced  in  the  cart,  and  he  returned  to  Brighton 
on  foot,  a  weary,  wet  and  draggled  man,  but 
supremely  happy.  The  sailor  and  I  then  pulled 
out  of  the  harbour  to  sea  and  rowed  back  to 
Brighton. 

During  my  stay  I  spent  a  good  deal  of  money 
on  boating,  taking  the  girls  out  to  Worthing,  etc., 
so  that  my  funds  ran  low.  I  calculated  that  by 
abjuring  inn  dinners  I  could  manage  to  carry  out 
my  intentions.  This  I  did,  making  good  breakfasts 
with  meat  or  eggs,  lunching  at  some  village  ale- 
house en  route  on  bread  and  cheese,  and  having  a 
'  meat-tea '  and  bed  at  my  inn  in  the  evenings.  I 
thus  visited  all  the  towns  along  the  sea-coast, 
Pevensey,  Rye,  Romney,  Hastings,  etc.,  etc.  I 
enjoyed  the  trip  greatly,  and  had  my  first  experience 
of  independence,  and  got  into  vigorous  health.  At 
Canterbury  I  found  that  I  had  money  left  to  pay 
the  fare  of  a  coach  to  London.  I  therefore  took  a 


26  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

place  on  it,  and  ordered  a  rumpsteak  and  dined. 
I  found  the  steak  affected  my  head,  it  was  so  stimu- 
lating. I  spent  the  evening  watching  a  fly-fisher- 
man on  the  Stour,  and  sitting  under  a  tree  I  fell 
fast  asleep.  Next  morning  I  went  by  coach  back 
to  London  perfectly  restored,  and  determined  never 
again  to  try  vegetarianism. 

Among  my  fellow-students  at  Sass's  were  Ston- 
house,  J.  Reed,  and  John  Bell  the  sculptor.  We 
entered  the  R.A.  schools  about  the  same  time. 
Stonhouse  and  I  were  great  friends,  both  then  and 
throughout  life.  He  had  been  destined  for  the 
Church,  but  resigned  a  probably  good  prospect  of 
preferment,  as  two  of  his  uncles  were  bishops,  and 
devoted  himself  to  Art.  He  had  been  a  pupil  of 
Wilkie's  during  his  Spanish  tour.  Wilkie  at  that 
time  was  in  precarious  health,  and  was  only  allowed 
two  hours  a  day  for  painting.  He  then  executed 
the  famous  Spanish  series,  '  Siege  of  Saragossa,' 
etc.,  etc.  They  were  painted  in  his  new  later 
manner,  very  slight,  and  finished  bit  by  bit  at  once. 
Under  his  direction  Stonhouse  copied  parts  of 
pictures  by  Velasquez,  and  seemed  to  me  a  wonder 
of  learning  in  Art.  He  kindly  gave  me  his  help 
in  painting  in  my  first  attempt  from  still  life, 
painted  in  the  Wilkie  manner,  with  much  vehicle 
(megilp)  and  tints  mixed  carefully  with  the  palette- 
knife.  With  this  first  attempt  I  gained  the  silver 
medal*  at  the  Society  of  Arts,  presented  by  the 
Duke  of  Sussex.  Dear  Mr.  Sass  highly  dis- 

*  1829. 


STONHOUSE  27 


approved  of  the  Stonhouse-Wilkie  method,  but 
after  the  picture  was  done  he  came  round,  and 
boasted  of  his  '  friend  and  pupil  Cope,'  a  term 
which  ever  after  he  always  employed  when  speak- 
ing of  me.  I  competed  for  two  medals  in  the  Royal 
Academy.  I  was  'beaten  by  Maclise  in  both  first 
medals,  but  I  gained  a  second  medal*  in  the  Life 
School,  and  thus  gained  a  Life-Studentship. 

During  our  pupilage  Stonhouse  and  I  had  a 
delightful  ramble  through  North  Wales.  I  was  to 
join  him  at  Eaton  Bishop,  near  Hereford.  I  took 
the  night  coach  from  London,  which  brought  me 
to  Worcester  at  four  next  morning,  expecting 
another  coach  on  at  six  or  seven  to  Hereford. 
The  hotel  was  stuffy,  no  one  about,  housemaids  not 
up,  so  I  could  not  have  a  bed.  I  therefore  deter- 
mined to  walk,  as  it  was  a  fine  summer  morning, 
some  twenty  miles,  and  on  I  trudged.  It  was  a 
broiling  hot  day.  At  a  village  public-house  I  got 
ham  and  eggs,  and  flat  beer ;  arrived  at  Hereford 
about  three  or  four,  and  dined.  It  was  four  miles 
farther  to  Eaton  Bishop,  but  I  went  on  and  arrived 
at  the  parsonage  during  dinner,  and  found  the  house 
entertaining  a  bridal  party.  I  thought  of  retreating, 
but  had  been  seen,  and  was  dragged  in  to  join  the 
party.  In  the  drawing-room  afterwards  there  was 
no  spare  chair,  and  I  fell  asleep  leaning  in  a  window- 
corner,  tired  out  with  want  of  sleep  and  the  sun's 
heat.  Next  day  we  went  to  the  bishop's  palace  at 
Hereford  for  a  day  ;  took  a  long  ramble  by  the 
*  Dec.  10,  1831. 


28  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

river  and  got  wet  and  dirty,  and  in  that  state  had  to 
pass  the  evening,  our  shoes  full  of  water.  We  slept 
there,  and  left  next  day  at  6  a.m.  after  an  early 
breakfast.  The  Welsh  walk  was  a  great  success. 

Another  of  my  friends  was  Francis  Gary.  I 
had  the  highest  regard  for  hfin,  and  first  knew 
him  at  Sass's  Academy  when  he  was  about  twenty 
years  of  age,  I  being  fifteen.  Through  him  I  knew 
his  father,  the  translator  of  Dante,  and  a  friend  of 
Charles  Lamb.  He  was  a  librarian,  residing  in  the 
British  Museum,  and  many  pleasant  evenings  I 
spent  there,  looking  over  rare  illuminated  manu- 
scripts. Mrs.  Gary  (mere)  died,  and  Mr.  Gary 
was  so  affected  by  the  loss  that  for  a  time  his  mind 
was  unhinged.  He  retired  from  the  Museum  into 
a  private  house,  where  Francis  filled  the  duties  of 
son  and  housekeeper  in  an  exemplary  manner. 
Devoted  as  he  was  to  his  art,  nothing  was  allowed 
to  prevent  him  from  driving  out  with  his  father 
daily,  during  the  finest  parts  of  the  day.  His 
devotion  to  him  was  most  touching.  At  the  occa- 
sional meetings  of  young  friends  in  the  evenings 
Mr.  Gary  would  always  be  present,  quietly  enjoy- 
ing their  talk  and  fun,  sitting  with  a  long  clay  pipe 
in  his  lips.  His  amiable  gentle  nature  spread  a 
calm  through  the  room,  and  seemed  to  sanctify  it. 
After  Francis'  marriage  Mrs.  Gary  was  as  a  daughter 

O  J  o 

to  him.  My  friendship  with  Francis  Gary  was 
life-long.  His  exterior  was  rough,  but  his  heart 
was  all  gentleness.  He  late  in  life  built  a  house 
at  Abinger,  where  Stonhouse  (then  the  Rector  of 


FRANCIS  GARY— CORNELIUS  HARRISON  29 

Frimley)  and  I  paid  an  annual  visit  ;  and  we  three 
chatted  and  strolled  about,  and  talked  of  old  times. 
We  have  become  old  men  !  Both  Francis  Gary  and 
Stonhouse  are  '  gone  before.'  During  sixty  years 
of  friendship,  I  never  once  ceased  to  appreciate  the 
worth  of  Francis  S.  Gary. 

Another  of  the  students  at  Sass's  was  an  enthu- 
siastic amateur,  Cornelius  Harrison,  a  Yorkshireman 
and  Cambridge  student.  We  became  great  friends, 
as  he  was  a  good  fisherman.  Our  intimacy  began 
s  by  our  going  together  to  fish  at  Foots  Cray.  We 
walked  there  before  breakfast,  and  fished  the  inn 
water  without  success  ;  so  we  returned  to  the  inn,  and 
Harrison  found  some  translations  from  Demosthenes' 
Orations,  and  he  stood  on  the  table  and  declaimed 
them.  We  afterwards  went  to  Paris  together,  and 
spent  three  months  in  the  Hotel  Wagram,  and 
worked  in  the  Louvre.  He  made  large  outlines 
from  David's  pictures,  often  standing  on  the  top 
of  high  steps  the  better  to  see  them,  and  as  he 
was  about  6  ft.  2  in.,  he  was  a  conspicuous  object. 
He  admired  David  more  than  any  other  painter. 
I  entirely  disagreed  with  him,  I  made  some  small 
studies  in  oil  of  some  fine  pictures  there  by  Titian, 
Rembrandt,  etc.  This  friendship  with  Corny 
Harrison  had  important  results  in  my  after-life,  as 
will  appear  later.  Harrison  afterwards  took  to  music, 
and  raved  about  Mozart.  He  fell  into  weak  health, 
and  died  at  Brompton,  at  the  age  of  about  twenty- 
four,  his  poor  old  father,  a  Yorkshire  squire,  being 
quite  broken-down,  as  he  was  his  only  son  and  heir. 


3o  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

During  my  student  life  in  London  I  became  very 
much  addicted  to  boating.  Stonhouse,  Moresby,  a 
barrister  (brother  of  Admiral  Moresby),  and  I  had 
a  very  fine  boat  built  in  Devonshire,  a  captain's  gig, 
the  Siren.  We  rowed  either  four  oars  or  a  pair,  and 
carried  a  large  light  linen  lug-sail,  and  the  boat  soon 
became  celebrated  for  fast  going,  both  above  and 
especially  '  below  bridge  '  (old  London),  and  many 
were  the  trips  we  took  down  the  Thames,  and  even 
round  the  North  Foreland.  Moresby  and  I  fre- 
quently rowed  in  the  afternoon  or  evening  to 
Gravesend,  slept  in  a  water-side  inn  till  the  watch- 
man woke  us  to  say  it  was  high  water,  then  rowed 
down  again  as  far  as  we  could  get,  and  frequently 
sailed  home  the  whole  way  in  one  tide,  some  fifty  or 
sixty  miles.  We  sometimes  slept  in  the  boat  at 
anchor,  and  it  was  fine  on  a  moonlight  night  to  find 
ourselves  high  and  dry  on  the  sands  at  low  water, 
with  wild  fowl  flying  around  us.  WTe  constructed  a 
canvas  shelter  to  sleep  under,  and  on  our  first  trial  it 
came  on  to  rain,  and  in  the  early  morning  we  found 
ourselves  lying  in  a  warm  bath,  the  rain  having 
poured  into  the  unprotected  ends  and  flowed  in  till 
it  rose  above  the  flooring-boards.  However,  a 
bathe  in  the  sea  while  our  clothes  were  drying  soon 
set  us  all  right  again. 

Twelve  miles  below  Gravesend  is  Hale,  or  Old 
Haven,  in  which  was  moored  the  hull  of  a  lobster- 
smack,  in  which  the  captain  of  a  lobster  fleet  lived, 
and  where  he  was  always  on  the  look-out  for  in- 
coming smacks  from  Sweden.  This  gradually 


BOATING  CRUISES  31 


became  a  rendezvous  for  us.  We  used  to  breakfast 
there,  as  it  was  still  water,  and  the  captain  joined 
us  :  he  providing  coffee  and  a  fresh-boiled  lobster  ; 
we  bringing  a  meat-pie,  bread,  etc.  We  also  some- 
times '  turned  in  '  and  had  a  sleep  till  the  tide  began 
to  rise.  Sometimes  we  gave  the  captain  a  lift  as  far 
as  Greenwich,  where  his  wife  lived  in  a  small  wooden 
house  close  to  the  river. 

We  met  with  many  adventures,  being  frequently 
followed  by  coastguard  men  in  a  cutter,  who  thought 
us  smugglers,  but  they  rarely  caught  us  if  there  was 
a  breeze.  One  trip  was  a  great  success.  F.  Gary, 
E.  Price,  and  I  set  out  for  a  cruise.  We  rowed  and 
sailed  as  far  as  Herne  Bay,  where  we  slept.  Next 
morning  a  gale  was  blowing,  and  we  could  not  launch 
our  boat  through  the  breakers  ;  so  we  waited  for  two 
or  three  days,  and  spent  the  time  at  Canterbury, 
looking  about  and  sketching.  Edward  Price,  an 
amateur  artist,  sat  down  on  the  grass  in  the  Close 
opposite  a  residence  which  he  thought  picturesque. 
He  soon  attracted  the  notice  of  the  inmates  whom 
he  was  besieging.  Some  young  ladies  and  their 
father  crossed  the  road  and  talked  to  him,  and 
looked  at  his  attempt.  He  apologized  for  its  im- 
perfections, but  told  them  that  his  friend,  mean- 
ing me,  could  sketch  well.  They  invited  him  to 
luncheon.  Price's  position,  squatted  on  the  grass 
opposite  a  house-full  of  young  ladies,  was  amusing. 

When  the  gale  ceased  we  got  afloat  with  difficulty 
through  the  breakers.  There  was  a  heavy  swell  on. 
Price  and  I  rowed,  and  Gary  steered,  at  the  same 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


time  baling  out  the  boat,  as  the  tops  of  waves  some- 
times broke  over  us.  We  reached  Margate,  and 
bought  some  bread  and  cheese.  When  leaving  the 
harbour  a  boatman  asked  us  where  we  were  going. 

'  Round  the  Foreland.' 

'  Then,'  said  he,  '  you  can't  do  it  in  that  cockle- 
shell. I  wouldn't  venture  in  my  big  boat  even.' 

Suspecting  that  he  wanted  the  job  of  taking  care 
of  our  boat  if  he  could  persuade  us  to  remain  at 
Margate,  we  pulled  out  to  sea.  The  waves  were 
high  but  long,  and  we  got  on  fairly  well  as  long  as 
we  kept  well  off  shore  ;  but  when  we  began  to  turn 
round  the  Foreland  we  had  breakers  which  drenched 
us,  so  we  kept  further  off  shore.  When  opposite 
Broadstairs  we  determined  to  turn  the  boat  head 
landwards,  and,  taking  advantage  of  a  slight  lull  in 
the  sea,  we  succeeded,  so  that  we  had  the  swell  on 
our  quarter,  but  not  without  a  drenching.  We  were 
met  in  the  little  harbour  by  a  group  of  excited  on- 
lookers. One  of  them  told  us  he  had  been  watching 
us  for  an  hour  with  his  glass,  and  that  when  we  dis- 
appeared in  the  trough  of  the  sea  he  never  expected 
to  see  us  again,  till  our  wet  backs  reappeared  on 
another  wave.  We  took  a  little  lodging,  and  had  a 
comfortable  '  square  meal.'  Price  and  I  had  rowed 
the  whole  way,  as  we  could  not  move  from  our  seats. 
He  went  to  bed,  and  was  sea-sick  all  night !  Next 
day  he  elected  to  walk  to  Sandwich. 

Gary  and  I  hoisted  sail  and  had  a  pleasant  run 
into  Sandwich  Harbour,  where  we  were  chased  by  a 
revenue  cutter.  We  were  suddenly  brought  up  by 


A  STERN  CHASE  33 


a  warp  across  the  water,  were  taken  prisoners,  and 
towed  down  to  the  coastguard-station.  Three  men 
kept  possession  of  the  boat ;  the  fourth  demanded 
our  license.  He  took  it  up  to  the  officer,  and  came 
back  with  a  rueful  face,  saying,  '  It's  all  right.' 

In  the  meantime  the  captors  had  been  examining 
the  horsehair  rowing  cushions  in  search  of  lace,  but 
not  breaking  them  open.  When  they  found  their 
mistake,  they  grumbled  and  left  the  boat ;  but  one 
said  '  they'd  had  a  long  pull  arter  us,  and  they'd  like 
a  drink  out  of  our  little  keg  in  the  bow.' 

'  Certainly,'  said  we ;  so  he  took  off  his  cap,  and 
wished  '  our  werry  good  'ealths,'  and  lifted  up  the 
keg  to  drink.  What  a  shock — it  was  only  water  ! 
His  disgust  was  most  comical.  He  was  very  angry, 
and  his  mates  laughed  at  him  as  much  as  we  did. 
We  then  sailed  up  the  harbour  into  the  river  Stour, 
and  found  ourselves  often  in  shallow  water.  At  one 
place  a  mill  crossed  the  river,  but  the  workmen  came 
out  and  carried  our  boat  to  the  upper  water.  At 
Canterbury  a  Church  dignitary  met  us,  and  through 
him  we  got  the  railway  people  to  put  our  boat  on 
two  trucks,  and  we  ran  across  to  Whitstable,  launched 
our  boat,  and  sailed  in  the  twilight  to  Sheerness. 
Again  we  were  chased  for  some  miles  by  a  revenue 
boat  with  four  oars,  till  they  were  lost  in  the  gloom 
of  night.  We  anchored,  took  out  our  traps,  and 
went  to  a  public-house  for  supper  and  beds.  While 
regaling,  heavy  footsteps  were  heard,  and  in  tramped 
four  overheated  sailors.  One  advanced  and  said 
gruffly  : 

3 


34  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

'  Have  you  a  license  ?' 

We  showed  it  to  him. 

'  Humph  !'  said  he,  '  why  did  you  not  haul  down 
your  sail  in  answer  to  our  signal  ?' 

Said  we  :  'It  was  too  dark  to  see  it.' 

'  Humph  !'  again.  '  Well,  gents  (!),  we've  had  a 
terribly  long  pull  after  you,  and  we  hopes  you'll 
stand  a  trifle  of  drink.' 

Next  morning,  with  a  fair  wind,  we  sailed  up  to 
London. 

Another  time  we  were  drifting  for  want  of  wind  ; 
it  was  a  misty,  hot  morning,  so  we  had  a  bathe  out 
of  the  boat.  A  few  distant  sails  were  just  visible. 
After  a  good  swim  Stonhouse  and  I  clambered  into 
the  boat,  and  while  dressing  we  remarked  that 
Moresby  was  not  to  be  seen  anywhere.  We 
shouted  and  rowed  about,  and  at  last  concluded 
he  had  gone  down,  so  we  sorrowfully  took 
the  oars  and  began  to  row  up  towards  London. 
When  we  had  pulled  a  mile  or  two  we  overtook 
a  small  cutter  drifting  for  want  of  wind.  We 
stopped  and  told  the  skipper  of  our  loss.  Said  he  : 
'  Really,  gents,  how  sad !'  But  there  was  a  kind 
of  twinkle  in  his  eye.  He  invited  us  on  board 
to  have  a  snack,  and  lo !  in  the  cabin  was  Moresby, 
with  a  glass  of  hot  brandy  and  water !  He  had 
seen  the  sail  and  knew  it,  and  swam  to  it ;  and  told 
us  the  old  skipper  could  not  make  out  who  was 
calling  his  name  out  of  the  sea,  till  at  last  Moresby's 
wet  head  appeared.  This  old  skipper  was  quite  a 
character.  He  kept  his  little  vessel  at  Westminster, 


THE  SKIPPER'  35 


close  to  our  boat-house.  Every  day  he  swept  his 
deck,  and  then  sat  and  smoked  his  pipe  in  the 
steerage,  and  once  a  week  sailed  to  Gravesend  and 
back,  smoking  and  drinking  gin-and-water  the  whole 
way. 


[  36] 


CHAPTER  II. 

FIRST    EXPERIENCES    ABROAD. 

AMONGST  my  early  friends  was  Edward  White.  Har- 
rison and  I  first  met  him  in  Paris  (September,  1832), 
and  saw  much  of  him  both  in  the  Louvre  and  at  our 
rooms  in  the  Hotel  Wagram.  He  was  an  excellent 
judge  of  art,  and  a  diligent  amateur  painter  when 
he  was  disengaged  from  the  East  India  House.  He 
was  intimate  with  Charles  Lamb,  and  at  his  weekly 
soirees  he  was  a  constant  guest,  and  met  there  many 
of  the  literary  celebrities.  Charles  Lamb  drank 
largely  of  weak  gin-and-water,  and  generally  had  to 
retire  early  to  bed  in  consequence.  The  rest  used 
to  sit  up  late,  in  spite  of  their  host's  departure. 
Edward  White  was  a  collector  of  works  on  art,  and 
had  copies  of  the  I  talian  authors,  Boschini,  Lomazzo, 
Ridolfi,  etc.  He  had  a  small  collection  of  oil-paint- 
ings, and  a  large  one  of  engravings,  including  all 
Watteau's  works.  At  his  house  at  Chelsea,  close  to 
the  bridge,  I  always  found  a  hearty  welcome,  and 
usually  dined  with  him  once  a  week  for  years,  and 
long  were  our  talks  about  art.  He  was  principally 
an  admirer  of  Giorgione,  and  having  procured  an 


CHARLES  LAMB—ED  WARD  WHITE  37 

engraving  of  his  picture  of  a  '  Knight,  and  Page 
buckling  his  Armour,'  though  he  had  never  seen 
the  picture  itself,  he  made  many  duplicates  of  it, 
varying  the  tones  of  colour  in  each.  Not  succeeding 
to  his  satisfaction,  each  was  discarded  in  turn,  till  at 
length  he  had  perhaps  thirteen  or  more  arranged 
round  his  room.  He  frequented  print-shops  and 
picture  sales,  and  his  riding-horse,  knowing  his 
tastes,  would-  sometimes  stop  suddenly,  if  he  saw 
what  looked  like  prints  in  a  shop  window,  greatly  to 
the  risk  of  White's  equilibrium  in  the  saddle. 

After  retiring  from  the  India  House,  he  came  to 
Italy,  and  joined  me  at  Florence.  He  spoke  to  me 
of  my  friend  Stonhouse,  whom  I  had  introduced  to 
him,  and  who  had  often  dined  with  him  during  my 
absence. 

'What  a  good  fellow,'  said  White,  'is  Stonhouse 
• — so  quietly  humorous,  and  such  excellent  company  ! 
But  he  is  no  great  judge  of  wine.  I  used  to  give 
him  of  my  finest,  and  he  drank  it  like  water  ;  but 
one  day  I  asked  him  how  he  liked  his  wine.  Ston- 
house had  taken  about  half  a  bottle,  but  he  again 
filled  his.  glass  to  taste  it,  and  then  said,  "  Oh,  it's 
not  bad  at  all."  After  that  I  gave  him  from 
another  bin.  Quantity  he  thought  more  of  than 
quality.' 

Our  meetings  were  renewed  after  his  return  to 
England.  He  subsequently  went  to  live  at  Twicken- 
ham, and  I  seldom  could  go  there.  On  my  last  visit 
to  him  he  did  not  remember  me ;  and  when  Miss 
Perry,  his  relative  and  housekeeper,  mentioned  my 


38  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A, 

name,  he  woke  up   to  his  old  liveliness  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  then  relapsed  into  quiet  forgetfulness. 

[The  following  extracts  from  a  letter  of  Cornelius 
Harrison's  supply  a  link  here  : 

'  376,  Rue  St.  Honore, 

ljan.  20,  1833. 

'  MY    DEAR    COPE, 

'  Your  letters  are  always  acceptable,  and  your 
company  will  be  equally  so  if  you  will  make  up  your 
mind  to  go  to  Italy  with  me  the  beginning  of  next 
April.  As  far  as  I  have  arranged  my  scheme,  I 
purpose  to  go  straight  to  Florence,  there  to  remain 
till  the  autumn,  and  so  on  with  Bell  to  Rome.  The 
Sistine  Chapel  and  the  Vatican  until  the  spring  or 
summer,  and  then  to  Venice,  or  where  you  like.  At 
all  events,  there  would  be  little  doubt  of  our  being 
able  to  agree  as  to  our  plans  when  we  are  once 
steadily  off.  A  man  (an  artist)  who  has  just  returned 
tells  me  that  the  expense  of  the  journey  from  Paris 
to  Florence  is  from  ten  to  twelve  pounds.  Whether 
you  go  or  not,  I  shall.  I  must  not  lose  the  oppor- 
tunity of  having  such  good  company  in  the  Capella 
Sistina.  Pray  give  up  your  lodgings  and  sell  all  and 
follow  me.  I  will  learn  Italian  for  us  both,  and  will 
charge  myself  with  all  necessary  information.  Your 
"  Titian's  Mistress  "  has  not  turned  out  a  bad  spec, 
I  guess.  Mine  is  excessively  feeble  in  the  execution, 
but  like  enough  in  the  general  colour.  Ingres  was 
exceedingly  pleased  with  it,  and  the  other  things 
that  I  showed  him,  and  praised  the  colouring,  which, 
however,  goes  for  little,  as  he  knows  nothing  about 


INGRES— BARLEY  39 

that  part  of  the  art.  In  drawing,  and  in  all  the 
qualities  that  are  requisite  for  a  good  master,  he  is 
capital.  His  atelier  is  in  the  Institute  :  sixty  pupils 
(double  the  number  of  any  of  the  others),  and  really 
not  very  noisy.  Anyhow,  they  don't  interrupt  you 
at  work.  Ingres  comes  in  three  times  a  week,  and 
corrects  with  the  greatest  possible  severity.  It  is 
not  near  so  good  a  place  as  Sass's  for  beginners,  and, 
of  course,  not  so  comfortable  or  civilized  ;  but  we 
must  suffer  something  for  the  art.  I  am  drawing 
from  the  antique  with  vigour.  The  rascally  Louvre 
was  closed  on  the  22nd  December,  and  will  continue 
so  till  the  1 5th  June.  The  modern  exhibition  is  not 
to  be  opened  until  the  ist  March.  Ingres  has  three 
pictures  for  it,  amongst  which  are  two  portraits,  for 
one  of  which  he  had  4,000  francs  (^"160).  Darley 
has  locked  himself  up  for  three  weeks,  and  has  not 
been  seen  by  any  living  soul.  I  believe  some  young 
lady  with  whom  he  was  in  love  is  dead.  Who  would 
have  thought  that  such  a  gray-headed  fellow  had  so 
much  sentiment  ?  When  he  comes  out  of  his  nest  I 
will  tell  him  what  you  said.  Price  must  certainly  be 
in  England  now  ;  when  you  see  him,  remember  me 
to  him,  and  also  very  kindly  to  that  excellent 
fellow  White,  whom  I  hope  when  I  come  to 
England  to  see  much  of.  Perhaps  he  would  take  a 
trip  with  us  as  far  as  Florence.  No  one  would 
make  a  better  travelling  companion.  Bell  writes  me 
word  that  your  copies  are  quite  to  his  taste.  I  hope 
that  your  "  Golden  Age "  is  not  to  be  of  a  less 
dimension  than  your  "  Giorgione."  .  .  .  Kindest 


40  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

remembrances  to  Stonhouse,  who  might  accompany 
us  to  Florence  or  Venice,  as  the  Louvre  will  be  then 
closed.  Since  I  wrote  I  have  been  very  well,  very 
gay,  and  at  the  same  time  very  steady.  .  .  .  Pray  let 
me  hear  soon  from  you  or  Stonhouse,  and  tell  me 
all  that  pertains  to  yourselves.  Never  mind  the 
egotism. 

'  Yours  sincerely, 

'  CORNELIUS  HARRISON.'] 

I  first  knew  William  Darley  in  Paris — a  diligent 
art  student  living  high  upstairs  in  solitude.*  He  was 
an  Irishman,  with  a  fine  taste,  but  was  never  success- 
ful as  an  artist.  We  became  friends,  and  I  saw  much 
of  him  in  Paris.  I  one  day  asked  him  where  he 
dined.  '  At  a  private  boarding-house.'  He  asked 
me  to  dine  there  with  him.  I  was  glad  to  accept, 
and  I  went.  The  scene  was  amusing  from  the 
curious  mixture  of  the  diners.  At  the  top  of  the 
table,  near  the  hostess,  sat  three  old  ladies,  curious 
specimens  of  old  France  both  in  dress  and  manners 
— fossils.  Their  politeness  to  each  other  was 
charming,  and  they  varied  their  conversation  with 
one  another  by  an  interchange  of  snuff,  which  they 
ladled  out  of  bottles  with  small  spoons.  I  was 
fascinated  with  them.  At  the  lower  end  of  the  table 
sat  the  hostess's  son,  a  thickset  fellow,  without  his 
coat.  His  seat  was  a  music-stool,  on  which  he  was 
continually  twirling,  as  he  got  up  constantly  to  fetch 
something  from  the  sideboard.  Darley  asked  me 

*  See  letter  above. 


OLD  FRENCH  LADIES  41 

(in  English)  what  I  thought  of  the  company.  I 
told  him  I  was  deeply  impressed  by  the  three  old 
ladies,  for  I  had  never  before  seen  such  curious 
specimens  of  humanity.  A  young  man  opposite 
turned  red,  and  then  crammed  his  napkin  into  his 
mouth  to  conceal  his  laughter.  Darley  gave  me 
a  kick,  and  I  found  afterwards  that  the  young  man 
was  the  son  of  one  of  the  old  ladies  !  Darley  and  his 
two  brothers  afterwards  came  to  Rome.  All  were 
clever  men.  The  eldest,  George,  was  a  mathe- 
matician and  an  excellent  poet.  They  were  all  of 
feeble  health.  If  they  dined  on  boiled  turkey,  they 
were  well ;  if  on  roasted,  all  were  ill !  They  wore 
thick  list  slippers  over  their  shoes,  but  could  not 
keep  warm.  George  Darley  was  an  art  critic,  and 
one  day  asked  me  how  I  liked  a  certain  picture  by 
Salvator  Rosa.  I  told  him,  '  Not  much.' 
'  Then/  said  he,  '  I'm  s-s-s-sorry  for  you  !' 
A  poem  he  wrote  was  called  '  Sylvia.'  It  was 
published  by  a  bookseller  to  the  University  of 
London  in  Gower  Street.  I  went  there  and  asked 
for  it.  The  young  man  said  he  had  never  even 
heard  of  it.  I  persisted.  At  length  another  person 
found  a  copy  in  the  warehouse,  covered  with  dirt. 
Evidently  it  had  not  been  in  great  request.  I  was 
delighted  with  it.  George  Darley  used  to  visit  me 
occasionally  and  criticise  what  I  painted — I  thought 
then  severely  ;  I  do  not  think  so  now. 

[In  an  old  notebook,  bought  at  Paris,  September, 
1832,  are  several  extracts,  headed  'Scraps  from 
"  Sylvia,  or  the  May  Queen,"  a  Lyrical  Drama,  by 


42  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A., 

George  Darley.  Publ.  J.  Taylor,  Waterloo  Place, 
1827.'  In  the  same  notebook  are  also  other  extracts 
from  Butler's  '  Analogy,'  Young's  '  Night  Thoughts,' 
Campbell,  Shakespeare,  Burns,  Crabbe,  Words- 
worth, Spenser's  '  Faerie  Queene,'  Tasso's  '  Gerusa- 
lemme,'  Pope,  Hemans,  Coleridge,  Rogers,  Gold- 
smith, Shelley,  Sir  H.  Davy's  '  Consolations  in 
Travel,'  Wilberforce,  Epictetus,  Plutarch,  Marcus 
Antoninus,  and  several  from  the  Bible  as  well.  Some 
of  these  are  subjects  for  pictures,  others  doubtless 
kept  for  their  own  sake.  In  the  same  notebook  also 
are  several  pieces  of  journal  of  travel  in  Italy,  which 
may  serve  to  supplement  his  own  latter,  and  perhaps 
less  vivid,  recollections,  and  which  will  be  indicated 
by  the  letters  N.Bk.] 

After  I  had  been  at  work  in  the  Royal  Academy 
for  a  year  or  two,  and  tried  my  hand  at  one  or 
two  original  pictures,  which  I  showed  to  the  kind 
keeper  —  one  a  'Hero  and  Leander '  (very  poor 
they  were)  —  he  thought  that,  as  I  had  no  desire 
to  try  for  school  honours,  a  visit  to  Italy  would 
be  advantageous.  I  accordingly  left  London* 
with  Stonhouse,  who  accompanied  me  to  Paris, 
and  after  three  weeks'  stay  I  took  diligence  for 
Geneva. 

['  Left  Paris  on  Friday  morning,  and  arrived  here 
on  Monday  afternoon,  having  been  four  days  and 
three  nights  in  the  diligence— passed  through  Dijon, 
Dole,  etc.  Dijon  I  merely  saw  by  moonlight,  so 
could  not  judge  of  the  celebrated  two  spires.  The 

*  Sept.  20,  1833. 


GENEVA  43 

passage  of  the  Jura  I  was  much  delighted  with. 
The  view  of  the  Lake  of  Geneva  and  Mont  Blanc 
in  the  distance  perfectly  astonishing.  I  arrived 
at  Geneva  at  half-past  four,  and  strolled  about  till 
eight,  when  I  returned  to  my  hotel  (Grand  Aigle)  to 
a  table  d*  hote  supper.  I,  being  the  last  comer,  was 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  table — pleasant  for  an 
Englishman  not  particularly  skilled  in  French. 
However,  I  flatter  myself  I  got  on  very  well.  I 
asked  questions  in  abundance,  and  very  often  was 
quite  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  the  answers.  How- 
ever, I  elevated  my  eyebrows,  and  said,  "  Oui,"  etc. 
This  morning  I  met  an  Englishman  at  breakfast 
(name,  Roberts,  of  Charlotte  Street,  Fitzroy  Square), 
a  Cambridge  man.  After  breakfast  I  delivered  a 
letter  of  introduction  from  Stonhouse  to  his  brother- 
in-law,  Edward  Willes,  who  lives  at  the  Maison 
Diodati,  the  same  that  Byron  occupied  here.  He 
received  me  most  kindly,  was  just  going  to  leave  for 
Nice,  gave  me  three  letters  of  introduction — one  to 
Severn,  one  to  Chev.  Luigi  Chiaveri,  and  a  third  to 
Mr.  Ewing,  all  at  Rome.  At  twelve  o'clock  I 
went  with  Forster*  to,  Voltaire's  villa  at  Ferney  ; 
saw  his  bedroom  and  saloon,  his  prints,  and,  indeed, 
everything  just  as  he  had  left  it ;  dined  at  four  at 
table  d'kote,  a  trout  from  the  lake  at  table  weighing 
14  Ib.  .  .  . 

'  Oct.  \Afth,  Milan. — I  left  Geneva  on  the  loth  of 
October,  and  arrived  here  on  the  I3th.  Took  my 
place  in  a  diligence,  for  which  I  paid  sixty-nine 

*  He  means  Roberts. 


44  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

francs,  and  came  through  Lausanne,  Villeneuve  (in 
the  evening),  Martigny,  St.  Maurice,  etc.  Slept  the 
second  night  at  Brieg,  a  small  town  at  the  foot  of  the 
Simplon,  and  started  at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning 
for  the  ascent.  The  road  all  the  way  from  St. 
Maurice  is  wonderfully  fine.  It  winds  through  an 
extensive  valley  of  the  Alps,  which  rise  on  each  side 
of  the  road  in  most  majestic  grandeur.  The  valley 
contrasts  very  beautifully,  being  a  luxuriant  pasture- 
land,  with  vineyards,  Indian  corn  fields,  etc.  The 
ascent  occupies  five  or  six  hours.  Of  course,  it  was 
dark  when  we  started,  but  I,  being  anxious  to  see  as 
much  of  the  Simplon  as  I  could,  walked  on  ahead, 
and  I  never  felt  so  much  what  solitude  was.  I  soon 
got  out  of  hearing  of  our  vehicle,  and  then  the 
silence  was  awful.  There  was  a  dim  twilight,  with 
a  few  stars  peeping  forth  here  and  there.  The 
mountains  were  black  against  the  sky,  and  the  firs 
shot  up,  spreading  forth  their  branches  abruptly — 
altogether  wonderfully  fine  ;  and  then,  looking  down 
from  the  low  parapet  wall  into  the  yawning  abyss 
beneath,  darkness  visible ;  rocks  half  seen,  half 
fancied  ;  a  torrent  whose  waters  made  a  low  moan- 
ing— in  fact,  the  thing  can't  be  described  ;  it  may  be 
felt.  We  arrived  near  the  top  about  seven,  where 
we  breakfasted  —  a  large  house.  By-the-by,  all 
along  the  road  there  are  houses,  about  two  miles 
distant  from  each  other,  called  "  Refuges  "  (this  is 
about  the  middle  Refuge),  a  word  admirably  chosen, 
having  the  same  meaning  in  nearly  all  languages. 
In  about  an  hour  after  we  reached  the  summit,  where 


SWISS  SCENERY  45 


all  signs  of  vegetation  had  ceased,  except  turf  here 
and  there.  The  summits  of  all  the  mountains  are 
here  covered  with  snow,  but  nevertheless  it  was  not 
nearly  so  cold  as  I  expected. 

'  We  then  continued  to  descend  for  about  six  hours 
more,  till  we  arrived  at  Duomo  d'Ossola.  The 
descent  is  much  finer  than  the  ascent.  There  are 
several  falls  of  water  from  an  immense  height,  and 
then  the  grottos  cut  in  the  solid  rock.  We  left  the 
latter  place  at  three  o'clock,  having  changed  the 
diligence,  and  arrived  at  Arona  about  nine,  having 
during  that  time  passed  the  Lago  Maggiore,  but  I 
grieve  to  say  it  was  dark.  The  road  from  Duomo 
d'Ossola  is  splendid — altogether  such  as  I  had  only 
fancied — couldn't  have  believed  it.  I  could  not 
describe  the  ascent ;  I  must  fain  keep  my  peace 
now.  The  vines  in  this  valley  grow  to  a  much 
greater  height,  being  trained  on  a  sort  of  rude 
trellis-work,  so  that  a  man  can  walk  under  them. 
The  people  are  all  here  much  handsomer  than  those 
in  Switzerland,  of  whose  beauty  I  can  say  nothing. 
They  all  look  like  gipsies ;  the  women  indeed  very 
ugly,  being,  whether  young  or  old,  both  brown  and 
wrinkled,  and  mostly  having  enormous  swellings  on 
their  necks  called  goitres.  However,  they  are  very 
kind  and  hospitable.  I  arrived  at  Milan  at  eight  in 
the  morning,  having  had  my  trunk  examined  twice 
during  the  journey  from  Geneva — on  the  Swiss  and 
on  the  Austrian  frontier.  A  Frenchman  I  travelled 
with  was  going  to  the  Hotel  de  Suisse,  so  I  agreed 
to  go  with  him.  It  is  a  first-rate  place,  where  I  pay 


46  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


five  francs  a  day  for  my  bed  and  dinner,  and  a  right 
good  table  d'hote.  .  .  . 

'  The  Arch  of  Peace  at  the  end  of  the  Simplon 
Road,  begun  by  Napoleon,  is  not  yet  finished.  It  is 
a  fine  ending  to  a  grand  undertaking.  The  Austrians 
are  going  on  with  it.  Milan,  indeed,  is  full  of 
Austrian  troops,  fine,  stout-looking  fellows  in  ugly 
dresses — an  ugly  sort  of  cap  something  like  a 
French  travelling-cap,  with  a  "  front  behind  ";  white 
coats,  and  dark-blue  worsted  tights,  with  boots  laced 
up  the  ankle.  These  are  infantry.  The  cavalry 
look  better,  as  also  do  the  chasseurs. 

'  Oct.  2ist. — Arrived  at  Florence  this  evening 
at  dusk.  I  left  Milan  on  the  i6th  in  the  Bologna 
diligence  (fare  36  francs),  passed  through  Piacenza 
and  Parma  in  the  night,  Modena  and  Bologna, 
where  I  arrived  the  end  of  the  second  day,  having 
slept  on  the  road  at  Parma.  There  were  three 
Englishmen  in  the  diligence — an  officer,  named 
Spencer,  returning  from  Vienna,  where  he  had  gone 
by  land  from  Constantinople,  and  two  others,  one 
also  an  officer.  Captain  Vernon,  Spencer  and  I  put 
up  at  the  same  place — Pension  Suisse — the  other 
two  elsewhere. 

'  I  went  with  Spencer  to  the  Opera  on  Saturday 
evening,  where  we  heard  the  "  Straniera  "  by  Bellini, 
and  some  most  capital  singing  by  Madame  Schiitz 
and  Gressy,  or  some  such  name.  However,  I  slept 
nearly  all  the  time,  being  rather  fatigued.  Sunday 
morning  Captain  Vernon  and  his  friend  called. 
They  were  going  on  to  Florence,  and  wished  me  to 


ITALIAN  PICTURES  47 

join  them  in  a  vettura.  I  agreed,  and,  after  losing 
much  time  in  talking  to  the  vetturino,  succeeded  in 
getting  away  to  the  gallery.  They  have  a  splendid 
collection  of  the  school  of  Bologna,  Guido  and 
L.  Caracci  especially  ;  also  Domenichino,  and 
Raffaelle's  sweet  picture  of  "  St.  Cecilia" — for  sweet 
indeed  she  is.  Such  expression  and  delicacy  of 
feeling !  The  musical  instruments  in  this  picture 
were  painted  by  Giovanni  da  Udini.  Two  of  the 
Guides,  "  Madonna  della  Pieta"  and  the  "  Slaughter 
of  the  Innocents,"  are  particularly  fine.  There  is  a 
picture  of  Domenichino's  of  "  Peter  the  Martyr," 
taken  from  Titian,  with  a  slight  alteration.  The 
standing,  or,  rather,  rushing  forward  figure  has  his 
arms  extended  and  a  front  face — I  think  not  near 
so  good  as  Titian's.  But  his  "  Martyrdom  of  Sta. 
Agnese "  is  particularly  fine,  as  is  also  the  one 
opposite,  "  The  Martyrdom  of  S.  Pietro,"  more 
especially  in  the  upper  part.  .  .  . 

'  Left  Bologna  at  six  o'clock  with  the  two  English- 
men, and  after  a  tedious  journey  over  the  Apennines 
...  I  arrived  at  Florence,  and  have  established 
myself  in  the  Hotel  de  1' Europe,  kept  by  Madame 
Imbert,  and  the  men  I  came  with  also.  They  are 
very  different  fellows.  One,  the  Captain,  has  some 
humour  and  a  little  funny  sort  of  testiness  ;  the 
other,  an  Oxford  man,  is  fat  and  lazy,  with  no 
earthly  pursuit  (money  and  idleness !),  and  spends 
most  of  his  time  on  the  Continent.  The  Captain,  on 
the  contrary,  is  fond  of  painting  and  the  arts,  and 
dabbles  at  landscape — in  a  small  way,  he  says  him- 


48  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

self.  We  smoked  and  ate  and  slept,  and  sat  in  the 
sun,  and  smoked  again,  and  I  half  succeeded  in 
smoking  myself  into  a  fever.  This  Italian  sun  is 
no  joke  at  mid-day,  even  at  the  end  of  October. 
Obs.  vine-leaves  straw-coloured,  green  and  bright 
scarlet  mixed ;  shadows  of  mountains  about  ten 
o'clock,  blue ;  lake  and  brown  in  lights,  though  deli- 
cate. First  view  of  the  Val  d'Arno  very  beautiful 
and  rich. 

'  Thursday t  Oct.  i^th. — Florence  is  indeed  a 
queen  of  cities,  and  "delightfull  exceedinglie  ";  the 
buildings  are  fine,  especially  the  churches  and 
palaces  ;  the  streets  are  paved  with  flat  stones  all 
over  (all  pavement) ;  the  accommodation  good,  abun- 
dance of  corn,  wine,  oil,  fruit,  etc.,  etc.  ;  beautiful 
situation  and  delicious  air,  and  so  clear  !  It  unites 
all  the  beauties  of  all  the  cities  I  have  ever  seen. 
Wednesday  morning  I  went  to  the  Royal  Gallery 
of  Paintings  and  Sculptures,"*  and  a  right  royal  gallery 
it  is.  What  a  room  is  the  Tribuna  !  Suck  pictures, 
such  statues  !  The  "  Venus  "  of  Titian  and  another; 
the  "  Venus  dei  Medici "  ;  Raffaelle's  "  Fornarina," 
"St.  John,"  and  a  "Holy  Family";  a  Correggio, 
with  pictures  by  Michael  Angelo,  Rubens,  Paul 
Veronese,  etc.,  etc.  Titian's  "  Venus "  is  in 
very  fine  preservation ;  the  flesh  is  so  beautifully 
clear  and  pearly,  though  warm  ;  and  such  a  face  and 
hair  and  hands  !  It  is  a  perfect  picture.  The  other 
is  fine,  but  not  equal  at  all  to  the  first.  The 
"  Fornarina,"  too — lovely  creatiire  !  so  captivating,  so 
*  Now  the  Uffizi. 


THE  GALLERIES  AT  FLORENCE          49 

gentle!*  And  then  that  Correggio — the  mother 
(Madonna)  kneeling  over  her  sleeping  child  with  all 
a  mother's  fondness.  Such  delicacy  of  sentiment ! 
Then  the  statues.  I  don't  wonder  at  the  French 
carrying  them  off  during  the  last  war ;  they  might 
well  envy  them.  Among  other  of  my  wanderings 
about  the  gallery,  I  sauntered  into  a  room  full  of 
portraits  of  painters  done  by  themselves,  some 
modern  (members  of  the  Academy),  and  bad  enough 
they  were.  There  were  three  English — Reynolds, 
Harlowe,  and  Hayter.  The  Reynolds  is  a  fine 
portrait.  This  morning  I  visited  the  Pitti  Palace, 
and  was  as  much  delighted  as  the  day  before  at  the 
Gallery.  Really,  one  fine  thing  after  another  started 
up  in  such  quick  succession,  that  they  were  almost 
too  much  for  me.  Two  Titians,  to  begin  with — one 
a  most  lovely  female  portrait,  as  Mrs.  Starke  says, 
"Titian's  favourite,"  and  a  "Holy  Family."  No 
wonder  the  former  was  a  favourite  ;  she  is  bewitch- 
ing enough  on  canvas.  The  dress  of  the  lady  is 
most  beautiful  ;  blue  silk  embroidered  with  blue — 
and  such  blue  !  And  the  neck  is  so  delicate ;  the 
eyes,  too,  looking  at  you — such  sweet  eyes  they  are, 
too !  I  was  desperately  smitten  myself.  Then 
came  the  "  Madonna  della  Seggiola  "  of  Raffaelle  ! ! ! 
Perfect.  Then  Raffaelle's  "  Giulio  II."!!!  Then 
"  Leo  X."  Vandyck's  "  Cardinal  Bentivoglio  "  ! ! 
(Not  blue  in  the  sky,  like  Burnett's  little  sketch.) 
Rubens  had  several  also  ;  and  Giorgione  one  very  fine, 

*  Words  in  italics  are,  in  note-hook,  crossed  through,  and  above  is 
written,  'Don't  think  so — March,  1835.' 


50  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

portraits  of  Calvin,  Luther,  and  Caterina  a  Boria. 
Then  Titian's  portrait  of  the  Cardinal  de  Medici, 
with  his  red  cap  and  green  feather,  and  brown,  lake- 
purple  dress.  It  is  a  princely  collection.  What 
useful  sketches  one  might  make  there  ! 

'  Visited  the  Giardino  di  Boboli  also — a  delicious 
retreat !  The  cool  fountains  and  thick  shade  are 
wonderfully  refreshing  after  an  Italian  sun,  and 
the  statues  placed  about — and  good  statues  they  are, 
too.  How  Bell  will  enjoy  all  this  !  .  .  . 

'  Visited  many  churches  also.  Saw  M.  Angelo's 
tomb,  Machiavelli's,  Dante's.  Some  frescoes,  very 
fine,  of  A.  del  Sarto.  By-the-by,  I  admire  him 
more  and  more.  He  unites  good  drawing  with  the 
most  refined  taste,  and  not  the  least  trumpery. 
There  are  some  beautiful  pictures  of  his  at  the  Pitti 
Palace.  Donatello  is  a  great  man.  I  had  no  con- 
ception of  him  before  I  came  to  Florence. 

'  Oct.  2$tk. — I  went  this  morning  to  the  Museum 
of  Natural  History  and  Anatomy.  The  anatomical 
preparations  in  wax  are  exceedingly  true  ;  I  believe 
the  finest  there  are.  .  .  .  Paid  a  second  visit  to  the 
gallery,  and  confirmed*  all  my  first  impressions. 
Rule:  If  the  lights  of  flesh  be  glazed,  the  shadows 
must  \>£.  painted  into,  especially  the  light  ones.  Con- 
tinually re-paint  the  shadows.  In  white  drapery,  paint 
the  lights  and  shadows  stronger  than  you  intend  (and 
put  the  lights  on  thickly  with  smart  touches),  and 
then,  when  quite  dry,  spread  a  layer  of  thin  white 
over  the  whole,  leaving  the  first  painting  to  show 

*  Scratched  out,  and  '  did  not '  written  above. — ED. 


A  METHOD  OF  PAINTING 


through,  especially  the  lights,  and  finish  by  re- 
painting the  deep  shadows.  After  having  drawn  in 
your  picture  from  your  previous  careful  studies  in 
chalk,  go  over  and  correct  the  outlines  of  the  whole 
with  water  colour.  A  thin,  warm  brown  will  do. 
By-the-by,  at  the  museum  there  are  some  most 
fearful  representations  of  the  Plague,  done  by  the 
Abbate  Lumbo  in  the  Medicis'  time.  They  are 
small,  but  horribly  true  ;  dying  and  dead 
mingled  together,  black  and  shrunk  bodies,  with 
others  half  decomposed.  "  The  blackening,  the 
swelling,  the  bursting  of  the  trunk  ;  the  worm,  the 
rat,  the  tarantula  at  work  ;  and  the  mushrooms 
springing  fresh  in  the  midst  of  corruption  "  (Forsyth). 
Shocking  !  Too  shocking  to  look  at. 

'  Made  a  bargain  to-day  with  a  voiturier  to  take  me 
to  Rome  for  thirteen  dollars  or  scudi,  breakfast,  dinner, 
and  bed  included.  Was  greatly  delighted  with  the 
music  at  the  opera  here,  "  La  Norma,"  by  Bellini. 
Signora  Schiitz  and  Anna  del  Sere  sang  exquisitely. 
A  duet  in  the  second  act  was  perfect.  An  old  fellow 
sitting  behind  me  was  quite  touched  with  one  of  the 
dying  cadences.  He  cried  "  Cara !"  (with  the  tears 
oozing  out  at  the  corners  of  his  eyes)  with  such  a 
plaint,  that  he  was  extremely  affecting.  J  leave 
Florence  to-morrow  morning  at  five  o'clock  for  Rome 
—26th  October,  1833. 

'Rome,  Nov.  2nd. — I  left,  as  I  have  said,  on  the 
26th,  in  a  voiture  for  Rome  .  .  .  for  which  I  found 
I  had  paid  five  dollars  too  much.  My  companions 
were  an  Englishman  travelling  for  his  health  from 


52  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

India,  a  very  quiet,  gentlemanly  fellow  ;  a  Scotchman 
named  Jamieson,  who  intended  to  practise  at  the 
Scottish  Bar,  and  was  travelling  for  improvement,  a 
quaint  fellow,  with  some  humour  and  classical  know- 
ledge ;  two  Italians,  and  a  Dominican  priest  whom  I 
had  before  met  at  Bologna,  a  pale,  quiet,  good-natured 
fellow.  Our  route  was  by  Perugia,  Spoleto,  and 
Terni.  It  is  a  highly  interesting  road,  as  there  are 
remains  of  antiquity  throughout,  more  especially  at 
Perugia,  Ossaia,  and  Otricoli.  Indeed,  in  this  last 
town  the  modern  cottages  are  half  built  with  ancient 
remains  ;  bits  of  beautiful  friezes  and  columns  appear 
in  the  mud  and  brick  walls  in  all  directions. '- 
N.Bk.] 

At  one  place  a  bumptious  gendarme,  with  cocked 
hat  and  sword,  demanded  '  Vos  passeports '  very 
roughly.  Scotchman  (Jamieson)  stood  by,  and  a 
large  dog  looking  out  of  a  vettura  window  was  asked 
by  him,  with  wonderful  mimicry,  '  Monsieur,  votre 
passeport.'  The  dog  wagged  his  tail,  all  the  by- 
standers laughed,  and  the  gendarme  withdrew. 

['  The  first  view  of  Rome  I  was  disappointed  with  ; 
it  rather  reminded  me  of  the  sziburbs  of  London  (a 
distant  view  of  Pentonville,  for  instance),  and  the 
principal  feature  in  the  foreground  was  an  English- 
man driving  a  four-in-hand.  I  am  established  at 
present  in  the  Hotel  d'Allemagne  ;  charge  ten  pauls 
a  day  (four  bed,  and  six  dinner).  Yesterday  I  found 
out  Harrison  and  Heaviside  ;  they  had  just  arrived 
from  Naples,  and  had  taken  lodgings  in  the  Piazza 
di  Spagna,  at  forty  dollars  a  month.  Harrison  looked 


FIRST  IMPRESSIONS  OF  ROME  53 

ill.  Heaviside  had  been  making  copies,  but  they  were 
very  feeble.  I  went  yesterday  to  St.  Peter's.  It  is 
grand  beyond  all  idea.  Such  a  scale  of  magnificence  ! 
The  dome  is  not  so  large  in  appearance  as  I  ex- 
pected, but  in  perfect  accordance.  The  interior  fills 
the  mind  ;  there  is  nothing  more  to  wish  for.  It  is, 
indeed,  a  noble  pile,  and  the  triumph  of  human  skill. 
I  also  visited  the  Sistine  Chapel,  where  the  Pope* 
was  performing  Mass.  The  "  Last  Judgment "  is  in 
better  preservation  and  clearer  than  I  expected,  but 
I  had  no  more  than  a  peep.  The  Prophets  and 
Sibyls  of  Raffaelle  in  the  Chiesa  di  Pace,  and 
"  Isaiah,"  in  S.  Agostino,  are  very  fine.  The  Sibyl 
writing  (the  head  of)  is  particularly  so  ;  both  well 
preserved.' — N.Bk.] 

At  Rome  I  was  called  upon  by  Cromek,  the  son 
of  one  of  the  engravers  of  Turner's  works.  He 
had  known  and  respected  my  father,  and  was  very 
kind.  He  lived  with  his  widowed  mother,  and  at 
their  rooms  I  met  Arthur  Glennie,  who  has  since 
been  my  life-long  friend. f  They  procured  me  two 
rooms,  where  I  was  very  comfortable.  The  padrone 
was  a  very  effusive  old  fellow,  and  called  me  '  Figlio 
mio'  always.  His  daughter,  a  spinster,  attended 
me,  about  forty  and  very  lean,  but  most  kind.  I 
used  to  go  out  sketching  from  nature  with  Cromek 
or  Glennie  in  water-colours,  which  I  had  not  before 
practised,  and  soon  began  to  be  at  home  in  it  under 
their  advice.  I  spent  about  six  months  in  Rome, 

*  Gregory  XVI. 

f  He  died  at  Rome,  Jan.  28,  1890,  aged  86  years. 


54  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

studying  the  fine  works  of  art ;  but  what  I  thought  the 
finest  things  were  the  antique  Greek  marbles  in  the 
Vatican  and  Capitol,  where  I  made  many  drawings 
in  pen-and-ink.  The  galleries  were  usually  empty 
of  visitors,  so  that  my  work  was  not  interfered  with 
by  idlers. 

The  Anglo- Roman  artists  usually  dined  at  a 
trattoria  in  the  Piazza  di  Spagna  ;  Gibson,  Williams, 
Desoulavey,  Boxall  (afterwards  Sir  W.),  Roth  well, 
Cornelius  Harrison  (in  bad  health  and  living  on 
macaroni),  Henry  Atkinson  (architect),  etc.  With 
the  latter  I  took  a  small  walking  tour,  to  Tivoli, 
Subiaco,  Frascati,  etc.  He  never  followed  his  pro- 
fession, but  became  a  philosopher  {!}  and  mesmerist ; 
gave  lectures  at  Exeter  Hall ;  and  afterwards  was 
the  close  friend  of  Harriet  Martineau,  and  her 
medical  adviser.  With  Boxall  an  intimacy  sprung  up 
which  lasted  throughout  his  life  ;  and  we  afterwards 
almost  lived  together  at  Sorrento  and  Florence. 
Many  were  our  quarrels,  but  they  did  not  interfere 
with  our  friendship.  In  the  spring  Glennie  and  I 
took  an  extended  ramble  in  Umbria. 

['  I  left  Rome  at  the  end  of  March,  1834,  for  a 
cruise  through  the  towns  northward.  Engaged  a 
vetturino  to  Orvieto  for  four  dollars  (eighty  miles), 
eating  included.  Slept  the  first  night  at  Viterbo, 
after  passing  Ronciglione.  Viterbo  a  busy  town, 
and  pleasantly  situated.  A  good  sketch  or  two  in 
the  church  of  the  Franciscan  convent,  which  con- 
tains, amongst  others,  the  tomb  of  Innocent  VI. 
I  had  two  pleasant  companions,  one  a  fat  and  rich 


A   TOUR  IN  UMBRIA  55 

Roman  tradesman,  connected  in  some  way  with  the 
Church.  He  called  me  "II  Signor  Rostbif."  I 
therefore  christened  him  "  Signor  Finocchio,"  a  jolly 
soul.  The  other  was  a  very  gentlemanly  fellow,  ac- 
quainted with  Dante  and  Tasso,  and  well  educated. 
We  slept  in  the  same  room  at  Viterbo,  and  passed 
the  evening  together,  separating  next  morning. 
He  went  to  Bolsena  on  a  visit  to  a  Monsignore  ; 
I  in  the  vettura  to  Orvieto.  Found  my  fat  "  Finoc- 
chio "  friend  was  going  too,  accompanied  by  a  priest 
of  the  Franciscan  convent,  where  he  had  been 
staying,  and  from  all  appearances  had  been  enjoying 
right  good  fare — roast  beef,  I  dare  say. 

'  Orvieto.  —  Our  carriage  seemed  to  make  a  great 
stir  through  the  streets  here,  which  were  all  empty, 
shops  all  shut,  inhabitants  all  at  dinner.  Signor 
Finocchio  and  the  priest  went  to  the  Bishop's  palace, 
I  to  the  Frigitore  inn  near  the  piazza  (five  pauls  a 
day).  The  first  evening  I  took  a  survey  of  the  town, 
which  seemed  half  deserted  of  inhabitants.  A  very 
cold  bitter  wind  whistled  through  the  streets,  and 
no  other  sound  save  the  creaking  of  rusty  weather- 
cocks, or  the  echo  of  my  own  footsteps.  The  town 
is  finely  situated  on  a  sort  of  isolated  rock  sur- 
rounded at  a  distance  by  mountains,  and  overlook- 
ing an  extensive  valley  watered  by  the  Pallia  and 
Chiana.  ...  It  has  at  different  times  afforded  a 
retreat  to  about  thirty-two  Popes. 

'  The  cathedral  the  only  thing  worth  seeing,  caused 
to  be  built  by  Urban  IV.  to  preserve  the  memorial 
of  the  celebrated  miracle,  the  cloth  stained  with  the 


56  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

blood  of  the  consecrated  Host  on  a  Bolsena  priest 
doubting  the  efficacy  of  the  consecration.  The 
architect  was  Lorenzo  Maitani  (Sanere) ;  the  lower 
front  beautifully  sculptured  by  Nicolo  Pisano  and 
Andrea,  from  Old  and  New  Testament  subjects. 
They  were  the  first  founders  of  modern  art  at  the  end 
of  the  thirteenth  century.  The  sculptures  contain 
most  exquisite  feeling  ;  some  of  the  angels  are  per- 
fection ...  In  the  chapel  to  the  right  are  wonder- 
ful frescoes,  well  preserved,  by  Luca  Signorelli  and 
Giovanni  da  Fiesole  Domenicano.  From  these 
M.  Angelo,  Raffaelle,  etc.,  have  stolen  in  abundance, 
although  they  have  not  added  much  to  that  which 
they  have  taken.  The  subjects  are  the  "  Last 
Judgment,"  the  "  Virgin  and  Prophets,"  the  "  Resur- 
rection," the  "  Army  of  Martyrs,"  etc.,  etc.  Each 
figure  has  a  soul,  and  acts  from  a  feeling  different 
from  his  neighbour  .  .  .  It  is  a  fine  school  indeed 
for  sentiment  and  expression.  Nothing  that  I  have 
seen  in  Italy  has  given  me  more  pleasure,  few 
things  so  much  .  .  .  The  case  (reliquario)  that  con- 
tains the  cloth  is  of  silver,  adorned  by  bas-reliefs 
by  Ugolino  di  Vieri  in  1338,  I  believe  very  fine  ; 
but  did  not  see  it,  as  that  is  impossible  without  the 
presence  of  a  Cardinal,  a  Monsignore,  and  someone 
else ;  one  having  the  key,  another  the  permission, 
and  the  third  something  else  ;  and  the  consent  and 
presence  of  all  three  is  necessary.  After  spending 
two  days  here  Glennie  joined  me.' — N.Bk.] 

There  was  no  hotel  in  the  place,  but  we  found  a 
wine-shop,  and  they  got  us  three  rooms  in  a  store- 


ORVIETO  57 

house  opposite,  very  clean  and  comfortable.     They 
sent  our   meals    across    the   street,    and    when    we 
wanted    anything    we    summoned    the    bare-footed 
waiter  by  blowing  a  trumpet  out  of  window,  which 
also  had  the  effect  of  waking  up  all  the  people  from 
their  mid-day  siesta.     We  were  supplied  ad  libitum 
with  flasks  of  Orvieto  wine,  a  delicious  white  wine, 
refreshing,  but  not  intoxicating.     We  instructed  our 
landlady  to  make  a  baked  rice  pudding.     The  waiter 
brought  it  in  with  a  flourish,  and,  while   he  was  re- 
moving the  meat,  he  placed  the  rich-looking  brown 
pudding  on  the  floor,  and,  unluckily  for  us,  in  whisk- 
ing round,  he  happened  to  put  his  bare  foot  into  the 
middle  of  it.    Our  anger  was  hot ;  so  was  the  pudding 
to  his  foot.      He  almost  prostrated  himself  on  the 
floor,  knelt,  and  prayed  for  our  pardon  ;  and  then,  as 
we  declined  to  eat  of  it,  he  sat  on  the  ground  and 
made  a  hearty  meal  of  it  himself,  begging  us  '  per 
1'amor  di   Dio  '  to  say  to  his  mistress,  if  she  asked 
how  we  liked  her  dish,  that  it  was  '  eccellentissimo.' 
From  thence  we  footed  it  to  Todi,  a  most  interesting 
old   Italian  town  amongst  the  mountains  ['  eighteen 
long    miles,    and    very    tough  ;    passed    through    a 
desperate  wild  country,  especially  near  a  part  called 
the  Mai   Passo,  famous  for  plenty  of  murders.    At 
present  only  four  mounds  of  stones  cast  by  travellers 
on  the  fatal  spots  ;  the  last,  I  believe,  happened  from 
revenge  a  few  years  ago.      Half-way  ate,  at  an  inn 
called  the  Cerasa,  brown  bread  and  wine.      Bought  a 
countryman's  knife  here.      Landlord  a  hearty,  jolly 
old  cock  of  seventy-five.     Two  other  men  and  two 


58  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

women  formed  the  family.  One  of  the  former,  about 
fifty,  was  manfully  employed  in  knitting  stockings, 
and  asked  us  many  questions  about  our  country- 
Was  London  in  England  ?  etc.,  etc.  Old  fellow, 
the  landlord,  very  knowing.  Very  civil  people, 
women  well-looking.  Todi  is  a  regularly  retired 
town  ;  bad  roads  to  it,  and  hard  to  find.  The  place 
itself  is  populous  and  flourishing.  People  much 
astonished  at  the  sight  of  strangers.  We  lodged  at 
the  house  of  a  saddler  and  wife,  with  a  daughter 
married  to  a  dancing-master — a  long  fellow,  though 
doubtless  able  to  skip  tolerably  high.  Paid  four 
pauls  a  day.  Quiet,  obliging  people,  especially  the 
daughter,  a  fat  little  body  with  a  child  of  six  years 
old  very  noisy.  Met  a  fellow-lodger  here,  "  a 
character"  —  an  old  itinerant  spectacle-vendor. 
Cathedral  Gothic  ;  made  a  tracing  from  a  sketch 
of  the  interior  by  Glennie.  .  .  .  From  thence  to 
Perugia,  twenty-eight  miles ;  the  road  good,  but 
dull,  although  for  many  miles  it  winds  along  the 
Tiber.  Found  decent  quarters  at  the  inn  of  Vin- 
cenzo  Corsini,  close  to  the  piazza.  Made  a  bargain 
for  five  and  a  half  pauls  a  day,  and  the  day  after 
found  out  another  fellow  who  would  have  given  us 
the  same  for  four  pauls.  (Satisfactory  !)  .  .  . 

'  Made  a  few  sketches  in  piazza  of  detail,  and 
traced  Glennie's  large  sketch,  and  some  others  in 
the  Church  of  St.  Peter,  which  contains  several  P. 
Peruginos.  The  oak  carving  in  this  church  is  said 
to  have  been  designed  by  Raffaelle  and  his  master  ; 
very  pretty  and  various.  In  S.  Severo  is  a  fresco, 


A  SSI  SI  59 

the  upper  part  done  by  Raffaelle,  Christ  in  the 
midst  of  four  saints  ;  the  lower,  by  P.  Perugino, 
four  others — nothing  very  particular,  and  in  regular 
dilapidation.  There  are  some  beautiful  figures  in  a 
picture  at  a  church  called  ...(?)  attributed  to  P. 
Perugino.  but  very  like  Raffaelle  ;  one  or  two  almost 
exactly  agree  with  certain  in  the  "  School  of  Athens." 
Also  ceilings  by  P.  Perugino  in  the  Cambio.  Weather 
here  horribly  cold  and  wet  ;  on  the  nth  of  April  we 
had  a  heavy  snowstorm.  Set  out  for  Assisi  (eighteen 
miles).  On  passing  Sta.  Maria  degli  Angeli,  met 
the  Dowager  Queen  of  Naples  paying  that  convent 
a  visit  (on  her  way  to  Florence  from  Rome),  now 
almost  repaired  from  the  damage  sustained  from  the 
last  earthquake.  She  was  old  and  very  common- 
place, otherwise  would  have  been  a  good  subject, 
kneeling  at  the  altar  surrounded  by  groups  of  beauti- 
ful contadine,  who,  by-the-by,  seemed  greatly  dis- 
appointed at  her  appearance,  "  tanta  bruta  !"  and, 
after  all,  so  like  other  donne. 

'  Assisi, — On  entering  the  town,  we  were  accom- 
panied by  a  hatter,  who  had  been  to  see  the  Queen 
at  Sta.  Maria,  and  he  took  us  to  a  house  where  we 
received  most  excellent  fare  and  accommodation. 
The  family  consisted  of  the  master  and  wife  (aged 
twenty,  lively  and  pretty)  ;  her  mother,  and  an  aunt* 
who  had  been  twice  a  widow,  was  now  childless,  and 
for  two  years  had  been  blind,  but  was  contented  and 
happy,  She  excited,  poor  body,  our  warmest  sym- 
pathies, and  seemed  such  a  beautiful  picture  of 

*  I.e.,  great-aunt,  '  husband's  old  mother,'  in  the  later  narrative. 


60  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

•resignation  under  affliction.  .  .  .  She  spent  all  her 
time  in  knitting  stockings.  She  was  most  friendly— 
always  called  me  "  Figlio  mio."  There  are  three 
churches  above  one  another.  The  lower  contains 
the  tomb  of  S.  Francesco,  pillars  of  marble  contain- 
ing veins  of  silver  ore.  Over  the  tomb  hang  in- 
numerable garments  or  rags  of  people  he  is  said  to 
have  healed.  The  man  who  showed  it,  an  under- 
sacristan,  seemed  a  most  firm  believer.  The  healing 
virtue,  according  to  him,  still  remains  ;  one  miracle 
happened  within  his  memory,  and  nothing  more  than 
faith  was  necessary.' — N.Bk.] 

The  lower  church  is  most  impressive.  It  is  very 
dark,  with  deep,  narrow  windows  of  coloured  glass. 
The  walls  are  covered  with  early  Italian  fresco- 
paintings. 

Against  one  wall  there  is  a  fine  yellow  marble 
pulpit,  which  is  approached  by  a  flight  of  steps  and 
a  gallery.  This  gallery  is  utilized  on  sermon  days 
by  the  preacher,  giving  more  scope  to  his  energy,  as 
he  frequently  leaves  the  pulpit  and  marches  up  and 
down  the  gallery,  thinking  what  he  shall  say  next, 
and  mopping  his  face  with  his  handkerchief.  His 
fervid  eloquence  requires  much  action  to  support  it. 
I  believe  the  preachers  to  be  picked  men,  carefully 
trained  for  this  service.  The  action  greatly  helps 
the  expression.  The  preacher  will  rush  along  the 
gallery,  suddenly  stop,  and  reach  forward  and  thunder 
impassioned  words  ;  then  lower  his  voice,  and  even 
weep,  pointing  to  the  crucified  Jesus  in  marble  on 
the  pulpit,  and  implore  the  people  to  look  up  in  faith  to 


ITALIAN  PREACHING  61 

Him.  The  'dim  religious  light '  revealing  kneeling 
figures  almost  lost  in  the  gloom,  the  solemnity  and 
quiet,  the  all-pervading  scent  of  incense>  seem 
greatly  to  aid  the  solemn,  picturesque  scene,  making 
you  step  noiselessly  lest  you  should  disturb  the 
silence.  The  second  church,  over  the  lowest  one,  is 
lighter,  so  that  the  frescoes  are  discernible. 

['  Light  is  admitted  through  beautiful  stained 
glass,  which,  falling  on  fine  old  bits  of  Gothic  archi- 
tecture surrounded  by  gloomy  shadows,  produces 
most  wonderful  effects,  solemn  and  impressive  in  the 
extreme  ;  and  when  the  Mass  (cantata)  is  performed, 
which  it  always  is  every  morning,  and  the  peals  of  a 
fine  organ  are  heard  accompanying  the  deep  voices 
of  the  friars  and  the  responses  of  beautiful  half-seen 
groups  of  kneeling  peasantry,  the  feeling  it  excites 
is  impressive  indeed.  The  wralls  are  covered  by 
pictures  of  the  thirteenth  century.  Over  the  altar, 
or  sepulchre  of  the  saint,  are  frescoes  of  his  virtues— 
his  marriage  to  poverty,  his  humility,  charity,  etc., 
and  his  glorification  ;  and  in  a  chapel  to  the  left,  his 
receiving  the  five  wounds  of  our  Saviour,  and  one 
or  two  others,  all  by  Giotto,  well  worth  studying. 
Many  also  are  by  his  pupil  and  rival,  Stefano,  called 
Giottino  ;  also  two  very  fine  ones  of  the  Crucifixion 
and  Entombment  by  Taddeo  Cavallini  Romano ; 
Puccio  Capanna,  the  "  Murder  of  the  Innocents,"  a 
fresco  much  esteemed  by  Raffaelle  ;  and  one  or  two 
copies  from  old  Greek  artists  by  Cimabue.' — 
N.Bk.] 

The  upper(most)  church  is  very  light,  and  every- 


62  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

thing  is  distinctly  visible.  .  .  .  After  you  leave  the 
lower  church  the  brilliant  sunshine  nearly  blinds  you, 
just  as  your  eyes  were  affected  in  a  contrary  way  on 
entering. 

['  The  upper  church  is  also  rich  in  works  of  art 
of  the  same  period,  but  much  decayed,  and  the 
inlaying  of  the  choir  is  very  curious  and  beautiful. 
W.  Y.  Ottley  remained  here  six  months,  and  has 
published  engravings  from  many  of  the  frescoes,  with 
remarks.  He  presented  a  copy  to  the  convent 
library,  which  we  saw  and  compared  on  the  spot. 
They  are  all  exaggerated  in  their  thin,  angular 
drawing,  and  scarcely  do  the  frescoes  justice.  How- 
ever, it  is  a  nice  work,  called  "  Plates  from  Early 
Florentine  School."*  The  whole  of  the  silver  of  this 
convent  has  been  carried  off  by  the  French.  We 
received  much  attention  from  the  friars,  especially  the 
head  sacristan,  a  gentlemanly  fellow  with  a  fine  head, 
agreeable  smile,  good  eyes,  and  white  hair  ;  also  from 
a  friar  called  Damiano,  who  spoke  English — a  fat  old 
fellow  and  short-winded  exceedingly,  who  invariably 
came  to  gossip  twice  a  day.  The  convent  was  built 
by  Jacobo  Allemano,  who  laid  the  foundations  so 
strongly  that  the  earthquake,  t  which  shook  and 
injured  all  the  surrounding  country,  spared  this 
building.  Our  days  were  spent  in  sketching,  after 
which  we  walked  about  the  country  till  dark, 
generally  in  the  direction  of  an  old  ruined  fortress 

*  Published   by   Colnaghi   Molteno,  Cooke,   Hessey,  Fleet  Street, 
price  12  guineas, 
t  1832. 


THE  OLD  SPECTACLE-MAKER  63 

on  the  top  of  the  mountain  behind  Assisi,  which  we 
found  means  of  entering  by  climbing  the  walls,  and 
rummaged  from  top  to  bottom. 

'  After  supper  we  'generally  gossiped  with  our 
hosts,  and  derived  much  amusement  from  the  old 
spectacle-maker  we  had  before  met  at  Todi.  He 
had  seen  much  of  life,  and  had  vended  spectacles 
through  the  smaller  towns  of  France,  Germany,  and 
Italy  for  forty  years.  He  was  fond  of  his  bottle, 
and  generally  got  rather  merry  every  evening,  when 
he  lectured  sometimes  on  the  fisico  ottico  sciences, 
and  on  Governments.  He  was  very  bigoted,  which 
was  not  wonderful,  as  he  was  a  sort  of  oracle  through 
the  country,  and  was  consulted  in  all  emergencies. 
He  never  failed  talking  the  old  wife  to  sleep,  and 
getting  drunk  with  the  padrone.  I  made  a  caricature 
of  him  for  our  young  hostess,  who  was  mightily  de- 
lighted with  it  :  "  So  like  old  '  Signer  Giovanne 
Occhiale,'  or  '  Papa  Barbo,'as  he  is  generally  called." 
She  wished  to  know  an  English  word,  so  I  wrote  down 
"  sweetheart  "  for  her.  Altogether  most  excellent 
people,  and  we  were  very  sorry  to  leave  them,  the 
poor  old  blind  woman  especially,  to  whom  we  felt 
quite  a  sort  of  attachment.  She  said  she  should 
never  forget  us,  and  would  pray  to  Santa  Maria  for 
us.'— N.Bk.] 

As  we  were  walking  towards  Narni  my  companion 
asked  me  how  much  money  I  had  left,  as  we  were 
still  far  from  Rome.  I  had  four  pauls  only !  He 
was  in  the  same  plight,  and  we  were  puzzled  what 
to  do  to  '  raise  the  wind.'  So  we  determined  to 


64  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


apply  to  the  landlord  of  the  Europa*  for  funds. 
On  arrival  at  that  hotel  the  head-waiter  did  not 
show  us  any  great  respect,  for  we  were  dusty  and 
travel-stained,  with  only  knapsacks  for  our  luggage. 
However,  we  requested  to  see  the  proprietor,  and 
were  shown  into  his  office.  He  took  off  his  cap, 
and  asked  what  he  could  do  for  us.  We  told  him 
our  story :  how  we  had  left  Rome  with  only  a 
small  sum  each,  and  having  gone  further  than  we  at 
first  intended,  it  was  all  gone.  Would  he,  therefore, 
lend  us  some  money,  the  sum  lent  not  to  exceed  the 
value  of  our  watches,  which  we  would  leave  with 
him  as  security  till  the  loan  was  repaid.  He  rose 
from  his  stool,  bowed,  and  made  a  little  speech, 
saying,  '  Signori,  voi  siete  Inglesi,'  that  he  declined 
to  take  our  watches,  as  he  could  always  trust  to  the 
word  of  an  Englishman.  We  might  stay  at  his 
hotel  as  long  as  we  pleased,  and  when  we  left  he 
would  be  happy  to  advance  as  much  as  we  might 
require,  which  we  might  repay  him  whenever  we 
arrived  at  Rome.  This  was  a  great  relief  to  us,  and 
enabled  us  to  take  a  still  longer  ramble.  Of  course 
we  returned  the  loan,  and  in  his  acknowledgment  he 
said  that  he  hoped  we  would  always  recommend  the 
Europa. 

['He  kept  us  there  in  good  style  for  a  couple  of 
days  on  good  beefsteaks  ;  an  excellent  fellow,  has 
been  in  England,  and  understands  English  cooking 
well  ;  was  formerly  a  courier  to  a  nobleman.  His 
inn  is  the  best  on  the  road,  and  he  thrives  as  well  as 

*  Hotel  at  Terni. 


TERNI— NARNI,  ETC.  65 

he  deserves.  We  treated  ourselves  to  a  bottle  of 
Falernian  wine  here.  Cascade  here  as  fine  as  ever. 
What  a  beautiful  valley  is  that  below,  where  the 
gardeners  are  so  troublesome  !  We  also  visited  the 
lake,  two  miles  above  the  falls,  where  there  is  a 
small  town,  and  in  the  lake  itself  excellent  trout  and 
pike  fishing.  We  took  a  boat  from  this  side  and 
got  rowed  over  to  a  point  where  there  is  annually 
held  a  festa,  and  where  is  the  most  perfect  echo  I 
ever  heard.  You  wait  some  moments  before  you 
hear  it,  and  then  so  loud  and  clear  that  it  is  quite 
astounding.  I  attempted  a  tune  through  the  speaking- 
trumpet,  and  was  greatly  shocked,  when  the  echo 
returned  it,  to  hear  how  tremendously  out  of  tune 
my  performance  had  been.  After  rowing  back  (an 
hour's  row),  Glennie  found  he  had  forgotten  his  port- 
folio ;  so  away  we  went  again,  and  by  ourselves,  in 
a  square  boat  with  two  paddles  greatly  differing  in 
size.  Such  rowing !  Dined  on  our  return  at  Terni, 
and  afterwards  walked  to  Narni,  nine  miles.  Put 
up  at  the  Bell  (Campana),  and  agreed  to  give  the 
landlord  six  pauls  a  day  for  bed,  dinner  of  three 
dishes,  and  tea.  He  gave  us  these  certainly,  and 
just  these  ;  a  close  fellow,  under  an  appearance  of 
liberality  ;  a  good  inn,  though.  The  scenery  about 
the  bridge  is  very  beautiful,  and  I  should  think  a 
capital  place  for  large  trout ;  but  the  inhabitants 
knew  nothing  about  the  "  arte  of  taking  fishes  with 
ye  angle."  The  convent  on  the  hillside  opposite 
Narni  was  stripped  by  the  French,  and  is  now  in- 
habited by  pigs  and  ghosts,  the  latter  fond  of 

5 


66  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

writing  on  the  walls.  Bathed  for  the  first  time 
this  season  in  the  Nar  (27th  April)  ;  tremendous 
current. 

'  From  Narni  to  Civita  Castellana  (twenty-one 
miles  by  Otricoli  and  Borghetto),  where  we  put  up 
at  the  Croce  Bianco,  corner  of  the  piazza.  Paid 
three  pauls  for  our  room  (two  beds)  ;  a  good  inn, 
but  dear,  and  if  the  people  have  an  opportunity  of 
imposing  on  a  traveller,  they  make  good  use  of  it. 
This  man's  brother  keeps  the  post,  and  a  third 
brother  the  inn  at  Spoleto  ;  all  alike.  Indeed,  the 
more  out  of  the  highroad  you  get,  the  less  you  are 
cheated,  and  the  more  civilized  the  place,  in  the 
same  ratio  you  are  taken  in.  This  town  is  sur- 
rounded by  a  beautiful  ravine,  through  which  winds 
a  romantic  little  stream.  The  air  here  in  summer  is 
unwholesome,  and  the  inhabitants  greatly  inclined  to 
foppery  and  dirt. 

'  Walked  from  Civita  Castellana  up  to  Soracte 
(now  St.  Oreste),  distance  about  ten  miles  to 
the  summit.  There  is  a  small  desolate  town 
on  the  right  point  as  you  approach,  where,  to 
all  appearance,  poverty,  ill-health,  and  dirt  reign 
with  undisputed  sway.  The  inhabitants  looked  like 
people  left  from  a  plague  ;  pale,  yellow,  with  purple 
lips,  grave  demeanour,  slow  speech,  and  a  sort  of 
mysterious  wildness,  and  dislike  to  conversation. 
From  inquiries  we  made  of  a  priest,  we  found  they 
all  suffered  more  or  less  from  diseases  of  the  chest 
arising  from  the  keenness  of  the  air  and  the  heat  of 
the  sun.  We  were  great  objects  of  curiosity,  and 


HERMIT  OF  SORACTE  67 


soon  accumulated  a  "tail,"  who  did  not  fail  in 
following  close  on  our  heels  wherever  we  went.' 

From  this  place  we  ascended  the  mountain  rock  of 
Soracte.  It  was  a  rough  climb,  and  we  were  dogged 
by  two  sinister-looking  fellows.  When  about  a 
quarter  of  the  way  up  we  determined  to  be  rid  of 
them,  and  so  waited  for  them  to  join  us.  As  they 
did  not  attend  to  our  calls,  we  went  back  a  short 
distance  to  meet  them,  and  asked  why  they  followed 
us.  To  show  us  the  way,  they  said.  We  were 
each  armed  with  a  serviceable  stick,  which  we  told 
them  we  should  use  if  they  came  a  step  further. 
They  sulkily  returned  downhill,  and  we  resumed 
our  journey.  On  arriving  at  the  summit  we  found 
a  hermitage  and  a  small  chapel. 

'  A  deserted  convent  of  Camaldolesi,  inhabited 
by  a  hermit,  a  German.  From  the  romance  and 
remote  situation  of  the  place  our  hopes  were 
raised  of  finding  a  hermit  like  Parnell's,  "  The 
moss  his  bed,  the  cave,"  etc.  We  approached  the 
convent  and  found  a  neat  garden  well  stocked  with 
beans  and  other  vegetables.  The  door  was  closed, 
but  through  the  grating  we  observed  the  reverend 
recluse  dressed  in  a  German  cap  and  countryman's 
jacket  and  trousers,  throwing  stones  at,  and  anathe- 
matizing his  pig  for  getting  among  his  cabbages. 
WTe  rang  his  bell,  and  asked  him  might  we  enter. 
"  Perche  no  ?"  was  the  reply.  He  seemed  to  live 
in  a  small  kitchen  well  stocked  with  cooking 
apparatus,  and  three  books,  a  crucifix,  Dutch  clock, 
and  carpenter's  tools.  He  gave  us  some  wine  as 


68  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

musty  as  it  could  well  be ;  we  had  part  of  a 
loaf  in  our  pockets,  so  we  made  a  tolerable  meal, 
the  hermit  eating  his  bean-soup  He  appeared  about 
thirty-five  years  old,  with  a  short  sandy  beard,  a 
merry  gray  eye,  and  a  good  stout  person,  a  regular 
sort  of  Friar  Tuck.  We  asked  how  he  lived.  He 
received  five  baiocchi  a  day.  Did  he  like  it  ?  Yes. 
Was  he  lonely  ?  No,  he  had  his  dogs,  and  his  pigs, 
and  his  poultry.  Of  course  he  had  seen  ghosts  in 
the  convent  ?  Never,  but  heard  odd  noises  on 
windy  nights,  when  every  shutter  played  a  banging 
duet  with  its  neighbour.  He  visited  Civita 
Castellana,  Rome,  etc.,  when  he  liked.  He  then 
conducted  us  to  another  convent  higher  up,  and,  as 
he  told  us,  without  such  a  comfortable  kitchen  and 
bedroom,  called  St.  Sylvester,  where  formerly  lived 
a  hermit  named  St.  Onosso — "  a  real  strict  one  " — 
with  his  bed  in  the  rock  and  his  damp  cell.  He 
was  so  sacred  that  he  had  performed  miracles.  One 
especially  merited  notice.  "He  desired  a  garden 
vastly,  and  was  prevented  by  a  large  rock  which 
occupied  the  wished-for  spot.  However,  he  would 
not  be  done ;  so  he  got  up  one  morning  and  made 
this  aforesaid  rock  scampare  via  over  the  moun- 
tain to  the  other  side  ;  and  in  its  place  remained  a 
garden  well  stocked  with  finocchio  and  kidney 
beans."  Our  hermit  friend  showed  it  to  us — truly  a 
most  unwieldy  morsel  for  such  a  flight.  The  scene 
that  followed  was  capital.  He  told  us  the  whole 
story  with  a  grave  suitable  demeanour,  he  standing 
opposite  Glennie  and  me.  When  he  had  finished, 


A   MIRACLE  69 


we  all  three  looked  at  each  other.  The  hermit's 
muscles  relaxed  a  little  ;  Glennie  looked  at  me  ;  I 
laughed  slightly  ;  the  hermit's  gray  eye  rolled  ;  and 
with  one  accord  we  all  joined  in  a  regular  hearty 
laugh.  Hermit's  lasted  the  longest.  Truly  a  jolly 
soul !' 

After  this  he  seemed  anxious  to  get  rid  of  us, 
and  took  us  a  short  distance  to  show  us  a  pathway 
through  the  woods,  of  small  ilexes,  back  to  Civita 
Castellana ;  and  a  very  rough  way  it  was,  the 
ground  falling  away,  and  the  small  trees  so  close 
together  that  we  could  scarcely  squeeze  our  bodies 
between  them.  At  the  inn  at  Civita  Castellana  we 
had  an  unpleasant  row  with  the  landlord,  who 
demanded  three  or  four  times  more  than  he  ought. 
We  refused  to  pay,  and  put  down  the  proper  sum 
on  the  table.  This  he  disdained,  and  told  us  if 
we  did  not  pay  his  bill  we  should  not  depart ;  and 
he  went  down  the  small  staircase  with  his  servant, 
to  block  the  doorway.  We  shouldered  our  knap- 
sacks, took  our  sticks,  and  marched  down  ;  and 
then  he  said  : 

'  Again  I  demand  the  sum  of  Will  you 

pay  it  ?' 

'No,'  said  we,  and  pushed  him  and  his  man  aside 
and  walked  out ;  when,  to  our  great  surprise,  he 
said  : 

'  Dunque,  Signori,  buon  viaggio  !' 

'  From  Civita  Castellana  to  Monterosi,  a  dull 
long  street,  and  from  thence,  by  a  short  cut  to  the 
right  through  a  difficult  path  to  find,  and  by  a 


70  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

beautiful  wood  for  eight  or  nine  miles  to  Trevignano 
on  the  Lake  of  Bracciano.  The  padrone  of  the 
inn  had  just  moved  into  summer  quarters,  and 
great  was  our  delight  at  getting  out  of  the  hot  sun 
and  dusty  paths,  after  a  six  hours'  tramp,  into  a 
deep  cell,  cut  out  of  the  hollow  rock  for  forty 
yards.' 

It  was  quite  dark,  except  for  a  few  dim  lamps, 
and  on  first  entering  out  of  the  bright  sunlight 
nothing  was  discernible  ;  but  after  a  short  time  we 
found  it  full  of  countrymen  sitting  at  tables  quaffing 
the  cold  wine  freshly  drawn  from  the  barrels. 
Never  was  a  more  refreshing  meal  of  eggs  fried  in 
a  tegame  and  good  bread  'and  cheese.  Tried  a 
sort  of  sketch  of  the  interior  of  the  cell.  Went  to 
see  a  picture  called  Raffaelle  at  the  church;  subject, 
"  Death  of  the  Virgin "  ;  like  him  in  design,  but 
more  like  Giulio  Romano  or  other  pupils  in  draw- 
ing and  execution.  Nothing  very  particular.  From 
Trevignano  to  Bracciano,  ten  miles,  through  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  woods  I  ever  saw,  just  decked 
in  the  full  fresh  verdure  of  spring  ;  flowering  haw- 
thorn, honeysuckle,  etc.,  in  abundance,  and  all  on 
the  banks  of  the  lake ;  and  such  an  evening ! 
Bracciano  a  seedy  little  place,  its  castle  also  ;  but 
the  lake,  and  mountain  view  from  the  latter,  are 
indeed  delicious.  The  inn  poor,  but  beds  good  ; 
although  the  landlady  made  some  difficulty  in  giving 
us  clean  sheets,  alleging  that  the  others  were  not 
yet  dirty.  From  hence  to  Rome,  thirty  miles, 
passing  Veii  (now  Isola)  and  down  the  valley  of 


RETURN  TO  ROME  71 

the  Cremera  to  Prima  Porta,  and  so  home  by  Ponte 
Molle.' 

We  arrived  at  Ponte  Molle  about  4  p.m.,  and 
being  travel-stained  and  dusty,  we  agreed  to  stop 
and  drink  a  bottle  of  '  Vino  di  Subiaco  '*  before 
we  entered  the  city.  The  albergo  at  Ponte  Molle 
was  much  resorted  to  by  Romans  to  enjoy  this 
wine,  which  paid  no  duty  outside  the  walls,  and 
was  therefore  cheap  ;  but  it  was  poor  stuff,  and  not 
like  what  we  had  been  enjoying  at  Orvieto. 

I  had  agreed  to  return  to  my  old  quarters  in 
Romef  during  the  Holy  Week,  at  my  landlord's 
earnest  request,  and  I  was  to  be  his  gztest ;  but  when 
I  finally  left,  he  brought  me  a  long  bill,  charging  me 
thrice  as  much  as  I  had  before  paid  him  for  lodgings. 
However,  I  said  nothing  and  paid  it,  and  then  I 
presented  his  daughter  with  a  little  silver  workcase 
as  a  thank-offering.  I  then .  took  my  leave  and 
descended  the  stairs,  and  when  going  out  I  heard  the 
old  padrone  calling  out,  '  Signor  Carlo  !  Signer  Carlo  !' 
He  came  shuffling  down,  and  then  said  he  had  dis- 
covered a  little  error  in  his  conto  ;  he  had  not  charged 
for  the  washing  of  two  or  three  handkerchiefs  (!), 
some  three  or  four  baiocchi.  Poor  old  slave  to 
gain ! 

*  Orvieto  (?) 
t  Palazzo  Fiano. 


[72] 


CHAPTER  III. 

ITALY. 

['  I  ARRIVED  in  Naples  the  6th  of  May,  1834  .  .  . 
and  got  a  room  in  the  Hotel  della  Lombardie  for 
four  carlines  a  day.  Laboured  up  to  the  convent  of 
S.  Martino,  formerly  a  convent  of  the  Certosini ;  but 
the  French  effectually  routed  the  monks  out,  and  put 
in  their  places  old,  worn-out  soldiers,  and  it  is  used  in 
the  same  manner  at  present.  One  of  them  hooked 

me  at  the  gate  and  conducted  me  to  the  door  of  the 

* 

church,  where  he  introduced  me  to  the  custode,  who 
was  once,  he  said,  a  gentleman,  and  of  a  first-rate 
family.  His  appearance  exactly  answered  this  de- 
scription— about  sixty-eight,  with  a  mild  old  face, 
high  cheek-bones,  brown  skin,  though  not  thin,  a 
long  surtout,  gray  eyes,  and  a  good  forehead,  sur- 
mounted by  something  which  looked  exceedingly 
like  a  wig — and  I  dare  say  was  one — but  rather 
auburn  in  colour  and  a  little  bristly.  He  received 
me  with  a  bow,  conducted  me  to  each  picture  in  turn, 
left  me  to  myself  for  five  minutes,  arid  then  returned 
to  say  that  if  I  would  excuse  him  he  must  go.  The 
altar-piece,  by  Spagnoletto,  is  a  wonderfully  fine 


S.  MARTI  NO  73 


work— the  dead  Christ,  with  the  Virgin  above ;  her 
clasped  hands  and  upturned,  expressive  eyes,  just 
tinged  with  red  from  weeping,  are  perfect,  and  the 
solemn  hue  and  deep  effect  are  in  beautiful  keeping. 
His  "  Christ  giving  the  Sacrament  "  is  a  fine  work. 
The  Christ  pleased  me  particularly.  His  head  comes 
against  a  blue  sky  and  tells  strong,  and  is  in  itself  a 
good  head.  His  prophets  are  peculiar,  and  fine  in 
their  way,  but  they  are  common  men.  There  is  also 
a  picture  called  "  Guido." 

'  On  leaving  the  church  with  the  old  gentleman,  I 
found  my  former  ensnarer  ready  to  show  me  the 
other  wonders  of  the  place — a  beautiful  view  of 
Naples,  etc.  ;  a  delicious  garden  (rose,  orange,  lemon, 
fig  and  mulberry  trees),  surrounded  by  cloisters  of 
marble  (every  bit  marble).  I  also  looked  into  the 
kitchen,  and  saw  the  old  boys'  dinner-table  ;  there 
are  400  of  them,  200  blind.  These  I  met  at 
every  turn,  merry  and  happy  in  appearance  as 
possible.  Lastly,  a  bas-relief  of  St.  Martin,  the 
founder,  dividing  his  cloak.  How  astonished,  by- 
the-by,  he  would  be  to  see  how  his  convent  is  now 
occupied ! — although  old,  ruined  soldiers  who  have 
suffered  for  their  country  seem  more  entitled  to  such 
a  retirement  than  lazy,  vagabondizing  monks.  This 
Neapolitan  climate,  I  find,  is  very  apt  to  render  a 
man  good  for  nothing — not,  I  think,  enervating,  but 
one  feels  so  perfectly  happy  in  doing  nothing  what- 
ever. Conscience  says,  "Be  up  and  doing,"  but 
climate  says,  "  Enjoy  your  present  existence  ;"  and, 
as  possession  is  nine  points  of  the  law,  and  climate 


74  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

has  you  already  in  his  power,  you  only  agree  with 
climate,  and  think  him  a  right  good  fellow  and  con- 
science a  bore.  The  only  way  is  to  leave  it.  Even 
thinking  is  labour.  Paid  ten  carlines  for  a  place  in  a 
diligence  to  Salerno  (twenty-five  miles),  which  goes 
from  Strada  Medina.  Arrived  late  in  the  evening. 
Found  out  a  fellow  to  take  me  to  Psestum  for  two 
dollars  (seven  or  eight  carlines  too  much).  Started 
at  four  next  morning,  and  arrived  at  Psestum  about 
ten,  and  was  much  pleased  with  the  temples,  especi- 
ally that  of  Neptune.  But  the  farmhouses  near  them 
destroy  much  of  the  effect.  The  temple  ought  to 
stand  in  solitude,  everything  else  harmonizing — the 
wild  mountains  near,  the  desert  or  rankly-luxuriant 
plain,  the  flat  coast,  the  placid  sea,  But  as  for  the 
white-walled,  red-tiled  houses,  nothing  can  be  said 
for  them,  especially  when  you  see  the  inhabitants 
eating  and  drinking  jollity,  as  I  did,  with  a  priest 
flirting  with  a  landlady  in  the  foreground.  The  in- 
habitants of  such  a  place  should  not  be  jolly  ;  indeed, 
considering  the  effects  of  the  malaria,  it  is  a  wonder 
they  can  be.  .  .  . 

•  '  Attempted  a  sketch  from  the  sea  a  mile  off,  but 
found  it  too  hot  to  go  on.  The  sand  especially- 
burnt  one's  feet,  and  the  perspiration  produced  by 
the  sun  was  tremendous.  Dined  at  the  little  hole  of 
an  albergo  there  on  fried  eels  and  boiled  eggs,  and 
net  bad  wine,  and  had  my  cab-driver  to  dine  with 
me.  Salerno  is  a  very  prettily  situated  place,  but 
confoundedly  warm.  Pretty  walks,  good  sea  and  air, 
and  civil  people,  especially  the  country-folk.  Re- 


P&STUM-POMPEII—HERCULANEUM  75 

turned  to  Pompeii,  which  I  visited,  and  was  highly 
satisfied.  The  wine-shops  and  bakers'  forno,  the  old 
carriage- wheel-worn  roads,  the  fountain  whose  edges 
are  worn  by  the  ancient  damsels'  water-jugs,  are 
especially  interesting  ;  they  bring  the  whole  affair  so 
vividly  before  you,  and  present  the  ancients  in  quite 
a  new  point  of  view — a  domestic  one.  Strange  that 
all  their  houses  and  temples  should  be  so  small,  com- 
pared with  our  buildings.  One  would  imagine 
Pompeii  to  have  been  inhabited  by  pigmies.  Mrs. 
Starke  gives  a  very  minute  detail  of  the  different 
objects.  Met  two  Italians  there  who  were  going 
sight-seeing,  and  I  joined  them.  We  went  first  to 
the  royal  palace  at  Portici  with  their  order  (quite 
necessary).  Nothing  well  worth  seeing.  The  apart- 
ments are  well  furnished  and  elegant,  nevertheless, 
and  in  one  are  portraits  of  Napoleon,  Murat,  etc.,  the 
former  by  Gerard  ;  the  latter  gives  exactly  the  idea 
of  a  wild,  reckless,  jovial,  active  spirit — quite  a 
brigand-like  expression.  Also  some  clever  pictures 
by  Granet.  From  hence  to  Herculaneurn.  Nothing 
is  shown  here  but  the  theatre,  which,  judging  from 
the  width  of  the  stage,  is  larger  than  S.  Carlo.  A 
great  pity  it  is  not  all  laid  open  ;  things  are  on  such 
a  far  grander  scale  than  at  Pompeii.  I  believe 
excavations  have  ceased.* 

'  Afterwards  returned  to  Naples.  Museo  Borbo- 
nicof  a  regular  treat.  I  take  two  rooms  a  day,  and 
so  enjoy  them  without  fatigue.  Visited  the  bronze 

*  Resumed  in  1868  (scavi  nuovi). 
+  Now  Nazionale. 


76  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


statues.      They   are   very    fine.       The    best    are    a 
Mercury,  seated  ;  a  female  bust ;  "  Dancing  Faun," 
as  lively  and  elastic  as  possible;  a  Young  Apollo  ; 
Alexander  on  horseback  (old  Bucephalus,  doubtless), 
striking  with  his  sword ;  an  Amazon  mounted,  with 
a  spear ;  a  very  fine  bust  of  Seneca.     The  Farnese 
"  Hercules  "  looks  very  grand  here.      I   was  disap- 
pointed with  the  celebrated    Farnese  group  of  the 
"  Bull,"  etc.      How  interesting  are  the  eatables,  etc., 
found  at   Pompeii !     The  two  loaves,   with   baker's 
name,  nuts  of  all  sorts,  figs,  prunes,  corn  ;  colours  for 
painting  (about  two  or  three  pounds  of  ultramarine)  ; 
drapery,  burnt,  with  gold  edging;  the  remains  of  a 
purse,  with  money  in  it,  found  in  the  clasped  hand  of 
a  female  skeleton.     Then,  also,  the  gold  ornaments  : 
the  cameos,  very  fine,  one  of  the  Venus  de  Medici ; 
earrings,   bracelets ;    soup-strainers  ;    the  celebrated 
cameo   of  Medusa,  etc,,   from   Hadrian's   Villa,   etc. 
The  room  of  bronze  utensils  is  also  very  interesting  ; 
they  are  numerous.     There  is  a  most  excellent  port- 
able stove,  with  hot-water  and  cooking  apparatus, 
and  some   rather  intricate  surgical  instruments,  be- 
sides knives,  spoons,  pots  and  pans,  lamps,  helmets, 
spears,  breastplates,  locks,  hinges,  etc.,  etc.,  without 
end.     In  the  room  containing  the  manuscripts  was  a 
person    engaged    in  unrolling  and   deciphering  the 
rolls  of  papyrus,   resembling  exactly   thick    bits  of 
charcoal.     The  letters  are  just  distinguishable,  in  a 
large,  clear   hand  (X   9  cosi).     Animals  commonly 
called    "nursery    maids"   abound   everywhere,    but 
especially  at  Naples — I  mean  English  ones.    Visited 


ALBERGO  DE'  POVERI— VESUVIUS  77 

the  Albergo  de'  Poveri,  where  hundreds  of  children 
of  poor  people  are  brought  up  and  kept.  One  half 
of  the  building  is  devoted  to  males,  the  other  to 
females.  The  interior  is  excellently  laid  out  in  large 
halls  or  rooms,  each  devoted  to  a  separate  pursuit. 
We  saw  the  children  and  youths  learning  reading 
and  writing  (the  Lancastrian  system),  drawing  (some 
very  well),  playing  musical  instruments,  singing,  pin- 
making,  gun-lock-smithing,  weaving,  etc. — in  short, 
brought  up  to  everything.  The  playground  is  the 
interior  of  a  large  church,  which  has  never  been 
raised  higher  than  twelve  feet  from  the  ground,  and 
in  which  were  young  fellows  drilling  for  soldiers. 
Afterwards  accompanied  my  aforesaid  Italian  friends 
to  the  museum,  where  we  got  permission  to  view 
the  cose  riser vate  (and  well  they  may  be).  How- 
ever, I  saw  the  antique  "  Faun  teaching  Young 
Apollo,"  of  which  Stonhouse  has  a  small  cast.  It 
came  from  the  Farnese,  Rome. 

'  After  dinner  we  all  took  coach  to  ascend 
Vesuvius  ;  weather  very  unpromising.  Started,  five 
of  us,  from  Salvatore's  house  at  Resina  on  horses  and 
one  ass,  on  which  rode  a  very  fat  jolly  Roman,  whom 
we  christened  Santo  Padre  Our  guides  were 
two  lads.  Before  we  reached  the  Hermitage,  half- 
way up,  we  were  caught  in  a  shower,  which  effectually 
cooled  the  courage  of  the  Padre  and  another.  Our 
party  was  now  reduced  to  three  besides  the  two 
guides  ;  evening  very  dark,  and  cone  of  Vesuvius 
covered  with  clouds  and  raining  continually.  How- 
ever, we  pushed  on,  and  rode  for  about  two  miles 


78  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


further,  when  we  fastened  the  horses  to  masses  of 
lava  and  began  to  tramp  up  the  cone,  I  leading  the 
way,  the  Italians,  each  attached  to  a  guide  by  a 
handkerchief,  following.  We  arrived  at  length  at 
the  top,  and  found  ourselves  enveloped  in  thick 
cloud,  so  that  we  could  not  see  more  than  ten  yards. 
The  night  was  coming  on  ;  guides  rather  unwilling, 
or  afraid  (especially  as  one  of  them  said,  "  Ci  vuol 
molto  corraggio  "),  and  Italians  tired  ;  so  that  the 
utmost  we  could  do  was  to  see  two  or  three  small 
craters,  or  red-hot  holes,  of  bottomless  depth,  and 
return  to  the  Hermitage  by  a  path  knee-deep  in  soft 
lava,  and  we  went  down  in  about  three  minutes  that 
which  had  occupied  us  half  an  hour  in  ascending. 
There  we  drank  some  of  the  hermit's  wine,  and 
descended  through  the  rain  to  Salvatore's,  and  ar- 
rived at  Naples  wet  through  about  mezza  notte. 
Paid  forty-five  carlines  in  advance  for  fifteen  dinners 
at  the  Villa  Milano,  close  to  the  Largo  del  Castello 
(three  carlines  a  dinner  instead  of  four  when  so 
taken) ;  excellent  feed.  Good  supper-place  in  the 
Strada  Brigida,  Signora  Carlina's.  The  two  Milanese 
have  gone  to  Genoa  ;  the  other  two,  Romans,  I 
joined  in  an  excursion  to  Baia,  etc.  We  started  in 
the  morning  at  three  o'clock  (three  ducats  a  day  for 
carnage),  and  arrived  at  Pozzuoli,  where  we  examined 
the  Solfaterra,  a  large  plain  with  little  mounds  of 
sulphur  and  sulphur  works.  This  keeps  up  a  cor- 
respondence with  Vesuvius.  When  the  latter  smokes 
so  does  the  former,  and  vice  versa.  Workmen  here 
die  suddenly.  Small  "piscina  mirabile"  ;  the  amphi- 


CUM  A  79 

theatre,  very  much  decayed,  and  where  one  sees  the 
prison  of  St.  Gennaro,  who  was  exposed,  like  Daniel, 
to  the  lions,  and  they  would  have  nothing  to  do  with 
him.  The  temple  of  Serapis  worth  seeing  ;  pave- 
ment entire  ;  villa  of  Cicero,  etc. 

'  Thence  to  Cuma  by  the  Arco  Felice,  etc.,  where 
were  nothing  but  a  few  scattered  ruins  amongst  the 
vines,  inhabited  in  winter  by  wild  boars.  Thence  to 
the  Lago  di  Fusaro  (Acherusia  Palus),  famous  for  its 
oysters,  and  thence  to  Baia,  and  saw  the  remains  of 
the  temple  of  Venus  on  the  Mole,  a  brick  edifice, 
round  and  vaulted.  The  rooms  called  the  Camere 
di  Venere  are  stuccoed  on  the  ceiling,  and  ornamented 
with  sphynxes  and  other  figures,  and  well  blackened 
with  soot  from  visitors'  torches,  as  indeed  are  all  the 
ceilings  shown  here,  some  of  them  having  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  inside  of  a  chimney.  Saw  also  the 
temple  of  Mercury,  lighted  and  shaped  like  the 
Pantheon,  but  small.  Here  we  took  a  boat  for  the 
day  (one  scudo)  and  rowed  to  Bauli,  where  we  saw  a 
few  bits  of  brick  wall  called  "  Villa  of  Lucullus." 
The  "  piscina  mirabile,"  or  reservoir  for  purified 
water  for  the  Roman  navy,  is  very  perfect.  It  con- 
sists of  a  large  subterranean  apartment  supported 
by  arches  and  pilasters,  about  forty-eight  in  number. 
Thence  to  the  tomb  of  Agrippina,  a  small  vault 
ornamented  in  stucco  ;  sooty,  of  course.  Also  the 
Elysian  Fields,  covered,  from  whence  we  crossed  by 
the  shores  of  the  Mare  Morto,  or  Cocytus  (now  a 
reservoir  for  fish  called  tonni),  to  the  other  side  of 
Cape  Miseno,  and  embarked  for  Procida,  where  we 


8o  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


were  pestered  to  death  by  starers.  Saw  a  fine  view 
from  the  castle,  and  got  a  girl  to  dress  in  the  costume, 
which  is  Greek,  and  is  worn  only  on  festas.  We 
then  returned  to  Nero's  vapour-baths,  and  stripped 
to  the  shirt  to  examine  them.  Guide  went  first  with 
torch,  Italian  doctor  next,  I  next,  and  after  me  came 
our  fat  Roman  friend,  Signor  Serafino,  all  walking 
with  noses  on  knees  to  keep  out  of  the  vapour  which 
filled  the  upper  part  of  the  vault.  We  had  not  gone 
thirty  paces  down  before  Italian  doctor  was  heard  to 
cry  "  Basta !"  so  he  stopped,  and  on  I  went,  followed 
by  Fatty,  who  went  about  six  more,  and  then  retro- 
graded faster  than  the  other.  Guide  shouted 
"  Corraggio  !"  so  on  we  went,  and  at  last  got  to  the 
bottom  in  a  most  profuse  perspiration.  Then  we  got 
a  bucketful  of  the  water  and  boiled  a  couple  of  eggs, 
and  then  returned,  running  down  with  wet,  and  red 
as  lobsters,  but  had  the  laugh  against  the  Italians. 

'  From  hence  by  sea  to  Lake  Avernus,  by  the 
Stygia  Palus,  or  Lucrine  Lakes,  and  the  grotto  of 
the  Sibyl  of  Cuma.  At  the  end  of  the  grotto  are 
her  apartments,  two  feet  deep  in  water,  and  baths. 
Killed  a  snake  here.  We  all  got  on  guides'  backs 
(Fatty  also)  and  entered.  There  are  three  or  four 
apartments,  and  about  two  or  three  baths  in  each  room. 
From  hence,  they  say,  a  subterranean  passage  leads  to 
Baia,  or,  anciently,  to  Cocytus,  Styx,  etc.  Thence 
back  to  boat  and  sailed  over  to  harbour  of  Pozzuoli, 
where  St.  Paul  embarked  ;  saw  there  the  cathedral 
built  out  of  the  Temple  of  Augustus  ;  and  there  still 
remain,  on  one  side,  Corinthian  columns,  with  the 


VESUVIUS  81 


architrave.  From  Pozzuoli  to  Lake  of  Agnana, 
where  are  the  vapour-baths  of  S.  Germano  and  the 
Grotta  del  Cane,  neither  of  which  we  cared  to  see. 
Then  home  to  Naples.  Expenses  of  trip,  thirty- 
nine  carlines  each. 

'  N.B. — Visit  to  Procida  a  waste  of  time.  We 
all  three  supped  together  at  Corona  di  Zeno,  and 
settled  accounts.  All  well,  and  enjoyed  our  trip 
much,  though  Fatty  was  once  or  twice  heard  to  re- 
mark we  had  not  dined,  and  that  when  we  should 
arrive  in  Naples  "  non  ci  sarebbe  brodo,  non  niente" 
Both  these  Romans  are  most  excellent  fellows;  Fatty, 
a  character. 

'  About  a  week  after  this  Vesuvius  began  to  vomit 
smoke  and  flame,  and  emit  at  night  a  brilliant  red 
glare,  which  excited  my  curiosity  once  more  ;  and, 
standing  at  the  window  of  my  hotel,  I  heard  an  odd 
voice  talking  about — 

'  "  Vesuvius  is  in  un  gran  fochista." 

'  So  I  hailed  in  English  : 

•  "  Are  you  going  to  ascend  to-night,  sir  ?" 

'  "  Yes,  sir — oui." 

!  "  May  I  accompany  you  ?" 

'  "  We  shall  be  very  glad." 

'  So  I  descended,  and  found  an  Irishman  I  re- 
membered to  have  heard,  in  the  Vatican,  talking  great 
nonsense  about  the  "  School  of  Athens,"  and  another 
(English)  young  fellow,  equipped  for  the  ascent. 
We  started,  therefore,  about  ten  at  night,  and 
walked  to  Resina,  where  we  got  three  mules  and  a 
guide,  and  joined  two  other  parties  at  the  summit 

6 


82  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

with  old  Salvatore  at  their  head.  The  eruption  was 
slight,  but  very  beautiful  ;  'and  from  a  large  hole  in 
the  cone  flowed  a  stream  of  red-hot  lava,  which  ex- 
tended for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  before  getting 
stiff  and  black.  We  remained  there  till  about  five 
in  the  morning,  and  then  Mr.  Smith  (the  oddity) 
and  I  returned,  leaving  the  younger  man,  Mr. 
Abraham,  a  friend  of  Glennie's,  on  the  cone,  where 
he  remained  that  day  and  the  following  night.  We 
were  much  pleased,  as  the  moon  was  at  the  full,  and 
the  sunrise  in  the  morning  beautiful. 

'  May  30. — Parted  with  my  two   Roman   friends, 
Dr.  Paolo  Ruga  and  Signor  Serafino  Maldura. 

'  Had  a  two  days'  trip  with  Abraham  to  Ischia. 
Boat  from  Naples  every  evening  for  two  carlines. 
Castle  fine  from  the  sea.  Walked  to  the  "Sentinella 
at  Cal  Amici,  but  they  would  not  take  less  than  a 
ducat  a  day,  so  went  to  a  barber-restauratore  recom- 
mended to  us  by  Guapp,  a  cicerone  and  donkey- 
keeper,  a  good-humoured  fellow,  who  afforded  us 
much  amusement.  We  made  with  him  the  tour  of 
the  island,  and  in  the  course  of  the  ramble  stopped 
for  refreshment  at  the  Villa  Fontana,  where  we  were 
all  three  surrounded  by  thirty  or  forty  women,  men, 
and  children,  begging,  selling,  staring,  etc.  Sud- 
denly there  arose  some  contention  between  our  two 
donkeys,  and  we  all  ran  out  to  stop  it,  and  on  our 
return  Signor  Guapp  missed  his  handkerchief,  or 
napkin  (a  present  from  his  mother),  and  raised  im- 
mediately a  desperate  commotion  ;  would  search  the 
women,  swore  they  were  all  thieves,  etc.  However, 


.AN  OFFENDED  SAINT  83 

he  did  not  find  it,  and  we  left  the  village  with  our 
conductor,  who  vowed  vengeance  on  the  whole  com- 
munity, in  a  fever  of  anger.  From  hence  to  the  top  of 
the  mountain,  from  which  is  a  good  view  of  the 
island  and  surrounding  country  (Baia,  Naples,  Gaeta, 
and.  Capri),  and  where  reside  a  hermit  and  lay 
brother.  Guapp  told  us  not  to  give  a  farthing 
there,  as  without  doubt  the  hermit  would  share  the 
prize  of  his  handkerchief ;  and  we  obeyed  him,  as 
we  had  no  communication  with  them,  and  left  with- 
out bestowing  elemosina  for  the  Church,  an .  event 
which  caused,  in.  our  guide's  opinion,  all  his  after- 
misfortunes.  First,  his  donkey  dislocated  his  left 
fore-leg. 

'  "  Ah,"  said  Guapp,  "  St.  .Nicholas  has  punished 
me !"  and  he  cried  with  anguish.  We.  preferred 
walking,  as  the  descent  was  in  a  raincourse,  so 
Guapp  mounted  my  ass,  and  had  not  been  on  five 
minutes  before  he  was  cascaded  clean  over  its  head, 
and  cut  his  elbow  and  cheek.  "St.  Nicholas 
again  !"  said  poor  Guapp. 

'  I  tried  to  convince  him  that  the  same  thing 
would  have  happened  if  we  had  left  fifty  scudi ;  but 
Guapp  was  incredulous.  However,  he  mounted  his 
own  ass,  and  had  not  gone  much  further,  when  his 
cucia  took  some  amorous  whim,  and  once  more  spilt 
his  master,  who  this  time  severely  sprained  his 
ankle,  and  was  effectually  lamed.  He  was  now  no 
longer  doubtful,  and  told  us  that  a  misfortune  had 
always  happened,  and  always  would  happen,  to  any- 
one who  slighted  St.  Nicholas.  And  he  went  home, 


84  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

and  all  the  neighbours  agreed  that  he  was  deservedly 
punished  by  St.  Nicholas  for  his  advice  to  us  and 
his  neglect  of  elemosina.  He  put  on  leeches  in  the 
evening,  and  soon  got  better.  We  paid  the  barber 
twenty-four  carlines  for  two  days  (all  but  a  dinner), 
but  not  without  a  row,  as  he  wanted  three  piastres. 
He  was  very  like  J.  Reeve,  the  actor,  and  afforded 
us  great  entertainment.  When  we  reduced  his 
demand  he  was  quite  speechless.  He  sank  down  in 
a  chair,  and  crossed  himself  in  the  most  exquisitely 
ludicrous  manner,  and  looked  earnestly  at  fourteen 
pictures  of  Madonnas  hanging  over  my  bed.  .  .  . 
Changed  my  lodgings  at  Naples,  and  have  got  a 
small  room  looking  over  the  bay  and  Vesuvius, 
21  Sta.  Lucia,  for  two  carlines  a  day.' — N.Bk.] 

Oddly  enough,  after  my  return  to  England, 
happening  to  dine  at  a  chop-house,  I  saw  a  man 
observing  me  attentively  over  his  newspaper,  and 
found  he  was  my  friend  (Abraham)  of  Ischia  and 
Vesuvius,  arrived  only  that  day!  He  died  in  India 
shortly  afterwards. 

I  spent  the  summer  at  Sorrento,  about  a  mile 
from  the  sea,  paying  eight  carlines  a  day  for  board 
and  lodging.  The  rooms  opened  on  to  a  large  flat 
terrace  (primo  piano),  covered  with  a  vine,  trellised, 
very  cool  and  airy,  with  a  good  view  of  the  Bay  of 
Naples  and  Vesuvius.  While  sitting  there  one  day 
reading,  I  was  aware  of  a  lady  watching  me  over 
the  low  dividing  wall.  She  disappeared  when  I 
looked  up.  My  landlady  said  there  was  an  English 
family  living  in  the  next  house,  and  the  lady  must 


SORRENTO  85 


be  the  signora.  Next  day  I  received  a  visit  from 
il  signore,  G.  Hallam,  of  Brent- Pelham  Hall,  who 
invited  me  to  spend  the  evening  with  them.  There 
I  met  his  cousin,  Robert  Sulivan,  and  his  wife  ;  a 
young  lady — -Miss  F.  Worthington — -travelling  with 
them  ;  and  a  Norwegian  painter  on  a  visit,  a 
character,  stout  and  strong  and  very  merry,  Thomas 
Fearnley  by  name. 

Near  my  quarters  was  a  cottage,  in  which  dwelt 
a  very  handsome  mother,  who  used  to  sit  at  her 
doorway  under  a  vine,  nursing  a  prodigious  fine 
baby,  making  a  very  pretty  group.  I  asked  her  to 
sit  to  me,  and  began  a  small  picture  from  them. 
The  day  after  I  met  Sulivan.  He  called  on  me, 
and  saw  my  little  picture,  and  said,  '  By  Jove,  how 
good  !'  He  from  that  time  to  the  end  of  his  life 
became  and  continued  my  firmest  friend.  Daily 
he  sent  his  man-servant  to  tell  me  dinner  was  nearly 
ready  ;  and  I  almost  lived  at  his  house.  And  we 
sketched  and  boated  together.  He  was  an  inde- 
fatigable sketcher.  We  used  to  drive  out  to  some 
'  punto  '  with  a  luncheon-basket,  and  then  he  became 
so  absorbed  in  his  work  that  hunger  was  forgotten, 
while  sandwiches  melted  and  wine  turned  sour  in 
the  hot  sun.  During  my  sojourn  at  Sorrento,  Vesu- 
vius was  in  grand  eruption,  and  we  all  made  a  party, 
rowed  across  the  Bay  of  Naples,  and  spent  the  night 
on  the  mountain.  The  lava  was  streaming  dowrn 
and  covering  the  vineyards  and  trees,  while  the 
natives  of  a  village  being  submerged  lay  about  in 
picturesque  confusion  on  the  ground,  having  barely 


86  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

escaped  with  what  household  goods  they  could  save 
from  the  burning  lava,  which  gave  out  a  lurid  red 
light,  except  where  the  hot  cinders  were  stopped  by 
a  tree  and  were  heaped  up  against  it.  For  a  time 
the  tree  seemed  not  to  suffer ;  but  suddenly  there 
was  a  shivering  of  rustling  leaves,  and  a  bright  flame 
burst  out  like  gas-light,  and  flared  up  for  a  moment, 
and  then  it  fell,  and  all  was  again  in  red  gloom. 
The  heat  was  intense,  and  occasionally  the  wind 
blew  the  sulphurous  vapour  towards  us,  so  that 
breathing  was  difficult.  We  had  to  drag  and  lift 
the  ladies  over  walls,  they  stepping  up  on  our  backs. 
At  last  we  retreated  to  our  boats,  an  hour  after  sun- 
rise ;  and  as  we  had  eaten  nothing  since  noon  the 
day  before,  we  were  almost  famished,  and  utterly 
worn  out  and  grimy  with  the  fine  dust  of  the  lava. 
Fearnley  rushed  to  the  baskets  and  handed  round 
some  wine,  and  we  pushed  the  boats  off  and  began 
rowing  ;  but,  alas  !  there  was  a  very  heavy,  queer 
ground-swell  connected  with  the  subterranean  move- 
ment, and  nearly  all  the  party  were  sea-sick  ;  and 
never  did  I  see  such  a  miserable  company  lighted 
up  by  a  brilliant  sun.  We  got  to  Sorrento  about 
7  a.m.  ;  all  went  to  bed,  and  few  appeared  for  a 
day  or  two,  and  then  much  dilapidated. 

During  the  summer  William  Boxall  joined  me  ;  and 
there  were  in  the  house  a  Hanoverian  officer  who 
had  been  at  Waterloo  ;  an  old  fellow,  Matzen  ;  and 
Monachi,  an  Anglo-German.  The  Hanoverian 
officer  had  been  wounded  in  the  foot,  and  he  told  us 
that  the  fire  was  at  one  time  so  hot  that  wounds 


THOMAS  FEARNLEY  87 

were  inflicted  by  the  splinters  of  human  bones. 
There  was  a  Capucin  convent  near  us,  where  I  used 
to  draw  the  monks  ;  and  I  made  a  study  in  oil  of  a 
very  grand  fellow.  We  became  friends,  and  I  used 
to  supply  him  with  snuff,  pipes  and  tobacco,  to  his 
great  content.  These  poor  fellows  never  changed 
their  brown  dresses  day  or  night,  and  had  many 
services  to  attend  ;  but  they  seemed  contented  with 
what  appeared  to  me  a  most  useless  and  monoton- 
ous existence.  Boxall  painted  small  portraits  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sulivan.  They  had  a  young  lady 

visitor,  Miss  H ;    very  pretty  ;    and  she  and  I 

became  rather  intimate,  and  I  tried  to  paint  her,  but 
failed  ;  the  weather  was  too  hot.  She  was  travelling 

with   a  Captain   and   Mrs.    B .    .    .    .    Suli van's 

visitor,  T.  Fearnley,  was  a  ceaseless  source  of 
merriment.  For  a  short  time  he  and  I  did  not 
much  fraternize  ;  and  he  afterwards  told  me  that  he 
thought  I  might  interfere  with  his  affection  for 

Miss  W ;    but  we  became  great  friends  during 

his  stay  in  England.  He  afterwards  married  the 
daughter  of  a  Norwegian  banker,  and  died  the  year 
following  in  Holland,  leaving  an  infant  son,  who 
still  continues  to  be  my  warm  friend,  and  whose 
mother  corresponded  with  my  wife  till  the  latter's 
death,  and  with  me  till  her  own.  After  Fearnley's 
death  she  married  again,  a  Norwegian  clergyman 
(Provst  Heyerdahl),  and  they  died  within  a  few 
weeks  of  each  other.  It  was  amusing  to  witness  at 
Sorrento,  on  the  occasion  of  festas,  the  wonderful 
impudence  of  professors  of  the  dental  science,  and 


88  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

the  credulity  of  the  peasantry.  I  was  present  at  a 
lecture  given  by  one  in  a  crowded  thoroughfare. 
He  occupied  an  open  carriage,  the  horses  having 
been  taken  out.  His  voice  was  of  the  loudest ;  and 
he  told  them  that  he  could  extract  teeth  with  '  punto 
della  spada ' — the  point  of  a  sword.  He  made  up 
with  a  handkerchief  the  resemblance  of  a  huge 
tooth,  the  four  pendant  ends  representing  the  fangs. 
These  he  told  a  peasant  .to  hold  very  tight  ;  and 
then,  flourishing  a  sword,  he  suddenly  inserted  the 
point,  and  jerked  the  handkerchief  into  the  air  and 
caught  it  as  it  descended.  He  told  lovers  how  im- 
portant it  was  to  have  sweet  breath  ;  and  he  then 
held  up  small  bottles,  which  contained  a  nostrum  to 
effect  this,  '  only  twopence  each,'  and  of  these  he 
sold  great  numbers — men  buying  them  to  give  to 
their  sweethearts,  and  vice  versa.  He  then,  in  order 
to  convince  them  of  his  great  talents,  brought  out  a 
large  flat  volume,  bound  in  morocco,  and  showed 
them  testimonials  from  kings  and  princes,  stamped 
with  their  royal  arms  on  each  page,  all  of  whom  he 
had  cured.  This  book  was  handed  round  in  the 
crowd,  and  as  no  one  could  read,  it  was  considered 
convincing.  When  it  came  near  me  I  examined  it 
with  some  curiosity.  It  was  his  passport-book  only  ! 
I  held  it  up  and  told  him  so  ;  but  he  only  grinned 
and  got  repossession  of  it,  and  went  on  as  volubly 
as  ever. 

At  Sorrento  we  had  good  bathing  in  the  sea.  On 
one  occasion  we  went  to  a  rock  from  which  we  could 
plunge  into  very  deep  water.  As  we  walked  there 


A  HUMAN  DEVIL-FISH 


Fearnley  told  Monachi  stories  of  enormous  star-fish 
with  long  tentacles,  with  which  they  grasped  the 
limbs  of  swimmers.  Monachi  was  the  first  to  take 
a  header  into  the  sea  ;  and  then  Fearnley  (winking 
at  me)  slipped  quietly  into  the  water,  dived  beneath 
Monachi,  seized  his  leg,  and  dragged  him  down. 
Monachi,  of  course,  thought  of  the  tales  he  had 
heard,  and  at  last  appeared  on  the  surface  striking 
out  frantically  for  the  shore  ;  and  then  Fearnley's 
round  face  appeared  above  water,  roaring  with 
laughter.  It  was  scarcely  a  fair  joke. 

I  mention  what  struck  me  as  an  instance  of  the 
great  confidence  reposed  in  those  days  in  Englishmen. 
I  had  sent  for  a  letter  of  credit,  directed  to  a  banker  at 
Florence,  at  which  place  I  had  expected  to  be  ;  and  as 
I  found  my  money  running  low,  I  said  to  my  hostess, 
Donna  Maria,  that  I  must  leave  Sorrento,  or  I  should 
not  be  able  to  pay  her  for  my  board,  etc.  She  said  : 

'  Can  you  not  pay  me  when  you  get  to  Florence  ? 
I  will  trust  you.  Stay  as  long  as  you  please,  and 
send  me  the  money  when  convenient.' 

However,  I  did  not  need  to  delay  payment,  as  I 
got  the  London  bankers  to  transfer  the  money  to 
Naples.  This  showed  the  same  trust  in  English- 
men as  I  experienced  from  the  hotel-keeper  at 
Terni. 

['  Must  not  forget  Carmela,  Michele,  Maria 
Giuseppe,  Agnese  and  sisters ;  Teresina,  Ursoletta, 
and  Luigi ;  Donna  Maddalena,  Giuseppe  the  boatman, 
the  old  bore  Vincenzo ;  also  Raffaello,  Benedetto 
and  crew,  etc.,  etc. — Padre  Agostino  and  his  monks. 


90  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

From  not  getting  a  certificate  from  the  Commissario 
of  Police,  certifying  that  the  paintings  I  took  away 
were  done  at  Sorrento,  I  was  obliged  to  leave  the 
whole  easeful  with  Turner  and  Co.,  bankers,  who 
undertook  to  forward  them  to  London  to  their 
agents. 

'  N.B. — Ascended  Vesuvius  in  August  (moon 
third  quarter)  from  Sorrento — eruption  tremendous 
—stream  of  lava  ten  miles  by  three — vineyards 
destroyed,  also  wood  and  a  town,  S.  Giovanni,  of 
fifty  houses — fine  groups  of  people  burnt  o^U ;  one 
woman  leaning  on  vine-pole  especially  -  -  roba 
scattered  up  and  down  —  flashing  of  new  wood — 
red-hot  lava  smoke  —  rascals  with  guns  —  saints 
and  relics — monks  —  nuns  kneeling  —  houses  burn- 
ing. View  from  boat  on  water  :  spectre-ship,  mast 
and  cordage  dark  against  red  smoke — one  or  two 
figures  hanging  in  shrouds  --  town  dark  against 
smoke  —  water  dusky — sky  murky  —  lava  above 
houses  intense.  All  desperately  ill  coming  home. 
I,  starved.  I  regretfully  left  Sorrento,  and  took  a 
steamer  from  Naples  to  Leghorn,  en  route  for 
Florence. 

'  Fare  to  Leghorn  in  first  cabin  thirty-two  ducats. 
.  .  .  Leghorn,  inn  the  Pension  Suisse,  bed  four 
pauls  (too  much),  dinner  four.  The  opera  there 
good.  Saw  "  William  Tell."  From  this  place  to 
Pisa  two  hours.  Inn  at  Pisa,  Hotel  Europa, 
opposite  the  principal  bridge ;  bed  three  pauls,  and 
dined  at  the  restaurant  in  same  house.  Splendid 
cathedral.  Campo  Santo  most  interesting.  Gozzoli 


PISA— LUCCA— FLORENCE  gi 

finer  than  I  expected.  By-the-by,  where  the  upper 
preparation  of  plaster  is  fallen  off,  one  sees  an  under 
preparation  (not  so  finely  prepared),  and  on  this  are 
drawn  in  red  the  figures  that  are  painted  on  the 
upper  one  (not  always  exactly  corresponding)  ;  so 
that  it  would  seem  that  the  whole  picture  was  out- 
lined on  the  wall  before  the  upper  preparation  for 
painting  was  laid  on,  and  that  that  must  have  been 
done,  a  bit  at  a  time,  over  it.  From  Pisa  to  Lucca 
in  time  for  the  opera  ;  two  acts  of  "  Otello  "  and  two 
of  "  Romeo  e  Giulietta "  (Malibran,  Garcia,  etc.). 
A  small  but  select  gallery  here  in  the  Palazzo 
Publico.  A  sweet  Raffaelle,  a  "  Holy  Family,"  or 
Madonna  "  delle  Lume "  (there  are  two  lights 
burning  in  the  picture)  ;  one  or  two  Guidos ;  a 
Poussin,  "  Murder  of  Innocents,"  etc.  In  the 
Dominican  church  where  Fra  Bartolommeo  lived 
are  two  of  his  pictures  ;  one,  which  I  like  the  least 
of  the  two,  "  The  Assumption,"  is  called  his  chef 
d'ceuvre.  A  Guido,  in  the  style  of  painting  of  the 
"  St.  John "  of  Lord  Grosvenor,  and  the  figure 
standing  on  the  right  certainly  the  same  model. 
From  Lucca  to  Florence  by  Pistoja,  which  I  saw 
only  by  moonlight.  My  travelling  companion  in  a 
cab  from  Pisa  was  a  Captain  O'Grath,  an  Irishman, 
gentlemanly  and  pleasant,  though  rather  worn-out. 
He  afterwards,  poor  fellow,  died  in  Florence 
suddenly.'— N.Bk.] 

At  Florence  during  the  winter  of  1834  and  spring 
of  1835  I  had  rooms  opposite  the  church  of  Santa 
Trinita  and  near  Lung'  Arno,  on  the  top  floor,  138 


92  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

steps  of  stairs.*  There  I  began  to  paint  again,  and 
executed  some  commissions  for  pictures  :  I.  '  The 
Convent  Door ;'  2.  '  The  Sirens/  a  subject  inspired 
by  the  sea-caves  I  had  haunted  at  Sorrento  ;  3.  '  The 
First-born  ;'  4.  A  Portrait  of  Baby  Hallam,  naked, 
seated  with  flowers  ;  besides  a  small  head  of  a  boy, 
son  of  Sir  H.  Fletcher  and  nephew  to  Sir  R.  Peel. 
'  The  Convent  Door '  was  for  William  Hey,  of 
Roundhay,  near  Leeds.  '  The  Sirens '  I  sold  to 
Miss  Worthington,  who  presented  it  to  R.  Sulivan, 
and  he  left  it  back  at  his  death,  and  it  is  now  in  the 
possession  of  Colonel  Wilmer,  the  son  of  Mrs. 
Wilmer,  nee  Worthington.  '  The  First-born '  I 
took  with  me  to  England,  and  ventured,  on  Ston- 
house's  advice,  to  exhibit  it  at  the  British  Institution. 
There  it  attracted  notice  ;  and  was  purchased  on  the 
first  day  by  Mr.  Beckford,  of  Fonthill,  and  I  after- 
wards made  a  replica  of  it  for  Lord  Lansdowne. 
This  encouraged  me  in  original  work.  I  made  a 
few  studies  in  the  galleries  from  famous  pictures. 

While  copying  a  small  Paul  Veronese  in  the 
Uffizi,  the  martyrdom  of  Sta.  Justina,  I  was  aware 
of  a  visitor  overlooking  me.  It  was  Mr.  Pickersgill, 
R.A.  After  some  preliminary  'ahems'  he  spoke  to 
me  : 

'  Sir,  I  believe,  by  the  look  of  your  work  and  that 
of  your  colour-box,  that  you  are  an  Englishman.' 

I  replied  :  'Yes,  Mr.  Pickersgill.' 

'  Ah !'   said    he,    '  go    where    I    will    I'm    known. 

*  Now  the  abode  of  the   Philological   and    Italian  Alpine   Clubs 
(Baedeker). 


MR.  PICKERSGILL,  R.A.  93 

Sir,  look  at  me  and  see  how  I'm  suffering  for  my 
country,  a  martyr  to  my  desire  of  improvement  in 
my  art.  Sir,  I  travelled  three  days  and  four  nights 
without  rest  ;  and  on  arriving  here  I  retired  to  my 
couch.  The  window  was  open,  and  I  was  a  prey  to 
mosquitoes  all  night  long.  In  the  morning  I  was 
blind.  Only  see  my  nose  !  But,  sir,  where  have 
we  met,  that  you  should  know  me  ?' 

I  said  I  was  a  student  at  the  Royal  Academy  and 
had  seen  him  there. 

'  Good,  sir  ;   I  shall  be  glad  to  know  you.' 

He  had    been   painting   La   Fayette   in    Paris,    I 
believe,  and  had  extended  his  tour  to  Italy. 

My  friend  Boxall  joined  me  at  Florence,  and  took 
an  apartment  on  the  floor  below  me.  Also  the 
Sulivans  came  for  the  winter  and  took  a  villa — Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Sulivan,  Miss  Worthington  and  Eugenie— 
and  of  course  I  saw  a  great  deal  of  them,  and  Sulivan 
was  at  my  room  almost  daily,  taking  the  greatest 
interest  in  my  work.  The  Scottish  painter,  W. 
Simpson,  was  also  at  Florence,  and  I  accompanied 
him  and  Captain  O'Grath  in  a  tour  to  La  Certosa, 
and  to  a  Camaldoli  convent  in  the  Apennines. 
Here  the  gallant  Captain  was  in  his  element,  telling 
the  old  monks  his  campaigning  stories,  and  they 
followed  him  about  with  wondering  interest,  while 
he  flourished  his  stick  and  '  showed  how  fields  were 
won.'  In  the  evenings  the  Prior  used  to  visit  us, 
and  asked  close  questions  as  to  the  policy  of  Sir  R. 
Peel  ;  a  shrewd,  deep  fellow.  I  fear  that  this  trip 
was  too  fatiguing  for  the  poor  Captain,  whose  lungs 


94  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

were  affected,  for  he  died  a  short  time  after  our 
return  to  Florence.  I  had  missed  him  for  a  fort- 
night at  dinner,  and  as  I  went  up  to  my  room,  his 
door  was  open  and  a  woman  (nurse)  was  crying.  I 
asked  her,  was  the  Captain  ill  ? 

'  111  to  death,'  she  said. 

Two  priests  were  with  him,  administering  the 
last  rites  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  When 
they  left  I  went  in.  The  Captain  was  nearly  breath- 
less, but  he  took  my  hand  and  thanked  me.  His 
eyes  and  fine  white  teeth  glittered  in  the  lamplight. 
During  the  night  his  spirit  fled.  He  had  made  no 
will,  so  his  boxes  were  sealed  up  by  Government 
officials,  and  his  only  relative,  a  sister,  was  written 
to  by  a  brother  officer. 

I  observed,  as  I  went  out  one  evening  to  dinner 
at  a  restaurant,  a  very  wild  sky.  When  seated  at  a 
table,  suddenly  all  the  windows  were  dashed  open 
and  the  lights  extinguished.  After  dinner  I  returned 
to  my  rooms,  and  while  seated  at  a  table  reading  I 
observed  that  the  pendant  lamp-tweezers  and  extin- 
guisher were  vibrating.  Presently  I  got  sleepy, 
when,  suddenly,  my  chair  was  pulled  from  under 
me.  I  held  fast  to  the  table,  and,  thinking  that  a 
trick  had  been  played  me,  I  called  out,  '  Boxall, 
that's  not  fair  ;'  but  no  one  was  in  the  room.  I  felt 
giddy,  and,  supposing  that  I  was  ill,  I  struggled  to 
bed  without  undressing.  In  the  morning  I  felt  quite 
well,  and  supposed  that  I  had  been  faint  ;  but  when 
I  got  out  I  found  that  everyone  was  talking  of  the 
earthquake.  It  was  a  severe  shock,  and  was  felt  as 


A  PLAUSIBLE  ROGUE  95 

far  as  Rome  ;  and  many  houses  fell  forward,  and  had 
to  be  propped  up  to  prevent  their  falling  into  the 
street. 

My  friend  Sulivan  wished  me  to  join  them,  and 
spend  the  winter  near  Lago  di  Guarda,  but  I 
thought  it  was  high  time  to  think  of  returning,  so 
I  left  Florence  and  visited  Verona,  Piacenza,  and 
Parma  (where  is  the  finest  Correggio),  and  so  on  by 
Padua  to  Venice. 

Met  at  table  an  Englishman  educated  in  Germany, 
of  gentle,  quiet  manners,  who  told  me  that  his  father, 
a  lieutenant  in  the  royal   navy,  was  killed  at  Tra- 
falgar, and  that  his  mother  lived  on  a  small  pension 
at  Hanover.      He  was  a  pleasant  fellow,  and  we  did 
the  lions  together.      He  regretted  that  he  could  not 
join  me  in  my  journey,  but  he  was  detained  waiting 
for  a  cheque,  and  he  hoped  to  meet  me  at  Venice. 
I  thought  it  a  pity  for  him  to  be  detained  at  Bologna, 
so  I  lent  him  two  or  three  napoleons  to  enable  him 
to  pay  his  bill  and  go  forward.      I  was  several  days 
en  route,  and  when  I  arrived  at  my  inn  I  found  that 
he  had  called  daily  to  inquire  after  me.      I  thought, 
'  What  an  honest  fellow  he  is  to  be  so  anxious  to 
repay  his  debt !'     When  we  met  he   was  in  deep 
dejection,  as  his  money  had  not  arrived  ;  and  as  he 
had   bought  some  clothes  he  '  felt  ashamed  of  tres- 
passing further  on  my  purse,'  so   I   lent  him  more 
napoleons.     He    would    go    everywhere    with    me. 
One  evening  he  said    he  had  an   Austrian   friend, 
a  tutor  to  an  Austrian  Duke,  and  he  persuaded  me 
to  accompany  him  to  their  hotel.     The  tutor  and  his 


96  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


pupil  were  pleasant  fellows,  and  I  met  them  occa- 
sionally afterwards.  After  about  a  fortnight  the 
tutor  said  to  me  : 

'  How  is  your  friend  ?' 

I  said  I  had  not  seen  him  for  some  time. 

'  Indeed  ?'  said  he. 

His  manner  made  me  think  something  was  wrong, 
so  I  said  at  once  : 

'  Have  you  lent  him  money  ?' 

He  said  :  '  Only  a  few  naps.' 

I  told  him  that  I  also  had  done  the  same. 

'  Indeed  ?'  he  reiterated  ;  and  then  he  told  me  that 
this  fellow  (Spondon)  had  said  that  /  was  hard  up, 
and  the  loan  was  for  me  ! 

So  I  insisted  that  the  tutor  should  accompany  me 
to  the  agent  of  my  banker,  who  convinced  him  of 
my  not  being  impecunious.  We  then  both  laughed 
to  think  how  we  had  been  taken  in  by  a  rascal.  But 
the  unpleasantness  did  not  end  here.  I  agreed  to 
travel  to  England  with  a  very  pleasant,  well-informed 
man,  a  Colonel  Smith.  On  board  the  Rhine-boat 
he  met  a  British  friend  and  introduced  me  to  him  ; 
and  to  my  surprise  he  declined  to  know  me.  I  de- 
manded an  explanation  ;  and  he  told  Colonel  Smith 
that  I  was  the  '  friend  and  companion  of  a  known 
sharper,'  and  '  birds  of  a  feather,'  etc.,  etc.  So  I 
told  Smith  my  adventure,  and  he  said  that  this 
fellow  would  make  use  of  my  name  in  wheedling 
other  gulls.  The  Englishman  then  told  me  what 
a  skilful  adventurer  he  was.  He  was  very  quiet 
and  plausible  in  manner,  and  spoke  of  his  widowed 


SIENA— FLORENCE— PARMA  97 

mother  with  great  feeling.  The  greatest  evil  done 
by  .these  rascals  is  that  they  destroy  all  confidence 
between  man  and  man. 

['  Siena,  March,  1835. — Dome  very  rich  and  beau- 
tiful, though  not  equal  to  Orvieto  outside.  Sacristy 
contains  frescoes  in  capital  preservation  by  Raffaelle 
and  Pinttiricchio,  fifteen  years  older  than  Raffaelle, 
all  designed  by  Raffaelle.  Much  pleased — with  first 
and  second  most.  Subjects,  life  of  S.  Piccolomini, 
afterwards  Pius  II.  (.^Eneas  Sylvius).  Figure  of 
him  preaching  to  King  of  Scotland  has  much  senti- 
ment. Pulpit  by  Andrea  Pisano,  and  floor  of 
marble,  from  designs  by  Beccafumi,  in  marble  of 
three  colours  only,  white  for  light,  gray  for  broad 
shadows,  and  dark  for  depths,  like  chalk  drawings. 
The  Graces  are  in  the  sacristy  of  this  cathedral. 
Paintings  by  Spinello  Aretino  (1300),  and  Ambrogio 
Lorenzetti  (1400),  in  Palazzo  Publico.  Beautiful 
costumes.  Good  deeds  on  one  side,  bad  deeds  on 
other;  and  in  another  room  knights  tilting,  etc.,  etc. 
(made  notes). 

' Florence,  April  27. — Have  been  busy  for  afewdays 
sketching  in  the  city  from  frescoes  by  Ghirlandaio, 
in  Chiesa  Sta.  Trinita,  and  from  Gozzoli  in  a  small 
chapel  of  the  Riccordi  Palace,  Via  Larga  ;  the  former 
beautiful  for  sentiment,  the  latter  for  costume,  and  a 
wonderful  collection  of  characteristic  old  heads.  .  .  . 

'  Parma,  May  2. — Arrived  here  in  diligence  in 
twelve  hours  from  Bologna,  fifty  miles.  One  com- 
pagnon  de  voyage  from  Turin,  an  intellectual,  lively 
fellow ;  two  Parmegiani,  and  a  Franciscan  priest,  been 

7 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


on  a  tour  to  Vienna,  and  would  shortly  return  to 
his  convent,  Maria  degli  Angeli,  near  Assisi.  Fine 
head,  simple  in  worldly  matters,  clever.  Told  us 
of  his  interviews  with  Emperor  and  Maria  (latter 
pious),  did  the  conducteur.  Two  days'  rain  and  cold. 
Went  to  gallery.  What  Correggios  !  By  heavens  ! 
Copies  give  no  idea  of  Dr.  Girolamo — clear,  bright, 
fat,  beauteous,  graceful,  che  !  2.  "  Madonna  della 
Scodella,"  mother  and  Christ  ;  latter  wonderfully 
sweet,  playing  with  father  and  mother  (six  years  old), 
and  looking  round  at  you.  Angels  poetical  (see 
sketch).  3.  Martyrdom  of  S.  Flavio  and  his  sister. 
Latter  looking  up  (on  being  stabbed)  in  a  sort  of 
ecstasy  ;  eyebrows  elevated,  smiling  mouth,  eyes 
looking  to  heaven.  Executioner  of  brother  fine. 
4.  Dead  Christ  and  Mary,  etc.,  also  fine,  but  not  so 
fine.  Four  different  degrees  of  grief;  Mary  faint- 
ing ;  second  figure  assisting,  and  crying  ;  third,  full  of 
melting  tenderness ;  fourth,  merely  weeping.  A  grand 
Ludovico  Caracci,  Carrying  to  the  Tomb  (sketch). 
Called  on  Cavaliere  Toschi,  the  engraver,  and 
director  of  this  academy  ;  pleasant  man,  intellectual 
countenance,  stout.  Famous  studio  covered  with 
fine  prints.  Twenty  workmen,  or  students,  engrav- 
ing. Got  leave  to  sketch. 

'  Sunday,  $rd. — Went  up  to  cupola  of  cathedral  ; 
rather  disappointed.  Virgin's  Assumption  :  colours 
dim,  and  some  parts  quite  gone,  except  the  legs  of 
the  angels  in  upper  part,  and  give  idea  of  nothing 
but  arms  and  legs.  Still  they  are  Correggios,  and 
give  satisfaction.  Cupola  of  S.  Giovanni  in  finer 


CORREGGIO  99 

preservation,  our  Saviour  ascending  in  presence  of 
disciples.  Latter  grandissima.  Gallery  again. 
Correggios  still  finer  than  yesterday.  Observed 
colour,  or  megilp,  laid  on  thickest  in  dark  shadows 
of  drapery,  and  in  high  lights  ;  very  fat,  not  greasy 
but  firm  ;  and  gray  of  ultramarine — carnations  all 
different  according  to  age  of  person — draperies 
glazed  in  lights,  except  some  bright  yellow ;  the 
brightest  parts  put  on  after,  here  and  there. 
Appears  to  be  painted  or  impastoed  without  much 
oil  first,  but  laid  on  thickly  with  colour  (opaque) 
afterwards.  Look  like  objects  in  a  looking-glass. 
Kill  all  other  pictures  near  them  ;  finest  pictures 
in  the  world.  Walked  about  all  day.  Here  pretty 
girls  and  modest.  Met  the  contents  of  two  foundling 
hospitals,  fine  lasses,  marriageable.  Receive  200 
francs  when  married  with  consent  of  governors. 
Hospital  supported  by  Duchess  of  Parma.  In  the 
Palazzo  del  Giardino  are  some  frescoes  by  Agostino 
Caracci,  highly  poetical  in  conception,  and  altogether 
most  satisfactory.  They  fill  a  chamber.  That  of 
Venus  presenting  Bacchus  to  Ariadne  is  particularly 
so.  She  is  all  modesty  and  resignation,  while  he  is 
reverentially  saying  "  How  do  ?"  Venus  is  pretty, 
and  young  Cupid  is  taking  his  usual  liberties  with 
Ariadne.  The  followers  of  Bacchus,  just  landed, 
are  capital,  especially  a  young  faun  and  boy 
struggling  under  the  weight  of  a  golden  vine-vase, 
and  two  or  three  drunkards  and  porters  in  the  rear. 
The  "  Triumph  of  Venus "  is  also  good.  She  is 
kissing  Cupid,  perched  up  on  the  back  of  the  car 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


drawn  by  fauns  and  loves  ;  another  young  Cupid 
in  the  air  is  giving  them  the  whip  of  his  bow  and 
guiding  the  reins  ;  and  the  car  is  rolling  over  the 
emblems  of  war,  science,  literature,  and  the  fine  arts. 
The  Graces  follow  behind.  Then  the  third  is  good, 
"  Rape  of  Europa."  She  is  all  pleasure,  and  seems 
highly  satisfied  with  her  seat  on  the  gentle  bull,  who, 
nevertheless,  looks  round  with  a  very  suspicious  sort 
of  expression,  evidently  wanting  to  be  off.  The 
nymphs  giving  flowers  are  very  pretty  and  graceful. 
There  are  others  good,  "  Venus  guiding  the  Boat  of 
yEneas,"  etc.,  etc. 

'  In  the  same  palace  are  some  frescoes  which  have 
been  painted  over  with  white  (cose  libidinose),  but 
they  are  now  restoring  them  by  taking  off  the  coat 
of  paint.  The  custode  of  fifty  years'  standing  talked 
of  Napoleon  when  there  as  Consul  as  a  "  dark, 
short  brute  /'"  The  frescoes  of  Correggio  in  the 
Convent  of  S.  Paolo,  generally  consisting  of 
emblems  of  the  chase  in  the  hands  of  little  boys, 
are  playful  and  spirited  ;  but,  I  confess,  not  first-rate 
for  Correggio.  The  cupola  of  the  Steccata  fine,  by 
Correggio,  the  Assumption  of  the  Madonna,  in 
presence  of  all  the  old  worthies.  Amongst  others 
I  recognised  David,  with  Goliath's  head.  How 
should  this  last  get  there?  N.B. — The  blues  in  S. 
Jerome  are  very  thick  of  oil  indeed,  as  are  some  of 
the  lights  on  flesh  (foreheads,  for  instance),  smooth 
polished  hills  which  appear  quite  flat  except  on 
artist-like  inspection. 

'Inn  at   Parma,    Alia   Tedesca,    bed    one    franc, 


GIULIO  ROMANO 


dinner  two — good.  Between  Parma  and  Mantua 
(case  of  seventeen  francs)  no  less  than  eight 
doganas  ;  out  of  Parma  into  Modena,  then  out  of 
Modena  into  Parma,  then  Guastalla,  etc.  N.B. — Po 
a  splendid  river  here,  full  of  jack,  and  half  a  mile 
wide.  Mantua  seems  the  dominion  of  Giulio 
Romano.  Here  are  his  grand  frescoes,  his  build- 
ings, his  bas-reliefs,  his  residence,  and  his  tomb. 
The  Palazzo  del  Te  was  both  built  and  adorned 
by  him,  and  truly  he  has  indulged  in  the  wildest 
freaks  of  an  unrestrained  imagination.  The  first 
sala  is  filled  with  amorous  subjects,  "  Cupid  and 
Psyche,"  etc.  One  cannot  but  regret  that  some  of 
such  subjects  should  have  been  so  forcibly  treated. 
They  injure  the  true  taste  for  painting,  which  should 
refine,  rather  than  inflame,  the  passions.  The  hall 
of  the  "  Titans  overwhelmed  by  their  own  work  and 
the  bolts  of  Father  Jove  "  is  astounding.  The  room 
is  far  too  small  for  such  monsters  ;  it  could  not 
contain  them.  They,  in  consequence,  look  like 
great-headed  caricatures.  The  gods  and  goddesses 
above,  in  consternation  at  the  lightning,  are  more 
reasonable,  but  have  a  hasty,  unstudied,  flighty  look 
about  them.  Ceres  is  very  pleasing.  Jupiter  him- 
self looks  as  if  the  weight  and  force  of  his  forked 
bolts  were  overbalancing  him,  and  the  old  gentleman 
seems  to  have  but  an  unsteady  seat  of  it. 

'  The  Church  of  S.  Andrea  here  fine.  The 
Palazzo  Ducale  filled  with  roba ;  some  frescoes  by 
G.  Romano  all  about  the  battle  of  Troy,  but  not 
surprising,  although  the  custode  insists  they  are. 


102  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

The   Emperor  of  Austria  pays  a  visit  every  tenth 
year.     This  (1835)  is  his  year.     The  girls  here  very- 
pretty,  and  the  fortifications  very  strong.  .  .   .   From 
Mantua  took  a  seat   in  vettura   for  Verona   (eight 
swanzigers — two  or  three  too  much),  and  took  up 
quarters  in  Gran'  Parigi ;  dinner  four  francs.      Found 
landlord  dining  at  same  table  with  a  friend  he  was 
treating,  and  waiters,  as  I  thought,  rather  free,  now 
and   then  sitting  down  and   helping  themselves  to 
wine  ;  found  out  they  were  host's  sons.     Verona  is  a 
large,    populous,    busy,    amusing,    civil,    gay    place. 
The  amphitheatre  fine — nay,  almost  perfect.     The 
upper  outer  arches    only  are   wanting.     The  seats 
are  so  arranged  that  in  any  part  it  is  impossible  not 
to  see  the  spectacle.     I  had  an  opportunity  of  trying, 
as  there  was  a  stage  fitted  up  in  the  arena  for  a 
company  of  strolling  players,  and   the  audience  sat 
in  the  very  places  occupied  by  the  ancient  playgoers. 
I  was  surprised  also  at  what  a  distance  one  could 
hear  the  performers — from  the  very  topmost  seat  ; 
and  had  the  wall  remained,  the  voices  would   have 
been  perfectly  audible.     The  amphitheatre  occupies 
the  middle  of  the  piazza.,  which  is  nearly  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  square  ;  and  on  one  side  is  a  delightful 
promenade  (paved)  as  wide  as  Bond  Street  ;    cafes 
lighted  up  ;  and   the  evening  I  was  there  the  full 
moon  was  shining  and   military  music  playing,  and 
I  very  soon  became  a  very  Romeo.     The  Germans 
are  hard  at  work  fortifying  Verona. 

'  In  one  of  the  churches  is  a  fine  Assumption  by 
Titian,  and  in  S.  Giorgio  a  most  beautiful  and  im- 


VERONA  TO  PADUA  103 

pressive  picture,  by  P.  Veronese,  of  the  death  of 
that  saint.  His  head  is  very  fine,  and  there  is  a 
choir  of  angels  singing  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
picture,  seen  through  a  sort  of  misty  glory  which 
is  shining  out  of  heaven  on  the  saint.  Took  vettura 
from  that  town  to  Padua,  fifty  miles,  by  Vicenza 
(fifteen  swanzigers).  Vicenza  is  the  spot  which 
Palladio  so  richly  adorned.  It  is  delightfully 
situated,  and  the  walk  in  the  Campo  Marte  is 
delicious.  From  thence  you  may  wander  up  by 
an  arched  passage  to  the  Madonna  del  Monte,  a 
church  built  by  Palladio,  from  which  the  view  of  the 
valley  and  the  mountains  beyond  is  well  worth  the 
trouble  of  the  ascent  ;  especially  as  a  few  yards  still 
higher  than  the  church  is  an  old-fashioned  house  in 
which  "  mine  host "  sells  very  excellent  wine.  I 
had  a  bottle  and  sat  down  on  his  house-top,  vines 
overhead,  olives,  vines  and  orchards  around  ; 
Vicenza  in  the  valley  with  river  and  Alps  beyond. 
"  Non  che  male."  At  two  started  for  Padua, 
twenty-eight  miles,  in  a  miserable  vettura.  I  sat 
in  the  cab,  but  discovered  that  inside  there  was  a 
most  beautiful  girl  of  Padua,  who  speedily  employed 
all  my  imagination.  She  was  deadly  pale,  her  lips 
were  colourless,  and  her  eyes  possessed  a  sort  of 
unearthly  brilliancy.  She  looked  like  an  angel. 
She  reclined  her  head  on  the  shoulder  of  a  man  of 
about  thirty  years,  whom  I  took  to  be  her  spouse,  as 
I  observed  the  ring  on  her  finger.  I  inquired  about 
her  of  this  aforesaid  swain,  who  I  found  was  a  sort 
of  upper  gardener,  and  he  had  with  him  in  the  coach 


io4  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

several  flower-pots  and  plants,  whose  fragile  forms 
he  seemed  to  guard  with  equal  tenderness  with  this 
poor  sufferer.  He  told  me  that  she  had  been 
attacked  severely,  and  in  consequence  had  been 
bled  twenty-seven  times  !  Perhaps  she  was  his 
sister,  but  there  was  a  certain  something  in  the  way 
she  clasped  his  hand,  and  fixed  her  sparkling  eyes 
upon  his  face,  that  convinced  me  she  was  not.  I 
wonder — no  use  wondering — arrived  at  Padua  at 
eight  o'clock,  and  put  up  at  Grand  Imperatore,  a 
sounding  name  which  scarcely  corresponded  with 
the  interior  of  the  albergo. 

'  Walked  a  good  deal  about  Padua  without  find- 
ing much  of  note,  till  I  came  upon  the  church  of 
S.  Antonio  di  Padua,  a  most  doughty  saint,  and 
whose  name  is  always  invoked  in  important  cases  in 
Italy.  It  is  really  a  magnificent  building,  and  con- 
tains some  fine  frescoes  by  Giotto,  and  bas-reliefs  by 
Donatello,  and  in  the  scuola  adjoining  are  some 
magnificent  frescoes  by  Titian.  Made  three  recollec- 
tions. By-the-by,  in  the  morning  of  this  day,  I 
happened  to  ask  my  way  of  a  threadbare  old  gentle- 
man, and  he  insisted  on  being  my  guide  to  several 
churches,  town-hall,  etc.  This  latter  is  as  large  as 
Westminster  Hall,  and  the  roof  without  any  support 
from  pillars  or  otherwise,  and  covered  with  Giotto's 
works  ;  but  as  they  have  all  been  repainted,  they 
have  lost  their  glory.  The  subjects,  moreover,  are 
unimportant,  consisting  merely  of  single  figures, 
emblems,  etc.  Found  men  painting  scenes  in  this 
hall.  My  old  gentleman  friend,  in  about  an  hour 


PADUA   TO  VENICE  105 

after  our  acquaintance,  taxed  me  with  being  a 
German  student  of  the  University  of  Padua  ;  and  as 
he  knew  qualche  poco  of  that  language,  he  begged 
we  might  converse  together  in  Tedescho.  I  said  I 
was  English,  and  the  old  gentleman  was  evidently 
surprised  and  a  little  disappointed  in  his  lesson  in 
German.  However,  he  was  more  civil  than  ever, 
and  showed  me  several  things  in  the  town  which  I 
could  never  have  seen  without  him.  True,  it  would 
have  been  no  loss  ;  but  the  intention  was  good,  and 
I  praised  accordingly. 

'  Left  Padua  for  Venice  next  morning  at  five. 
Landlord  again  in  dudgeon  with  his  wife,  backed  by 
daughters.  Arrived  within  six  miles  of  Venice 
about  nine,  when  we  embarked  in  a  gondola,  and 
landed  at  -office  in  Grand  Canal  at  ten,  after  an 
interesting  ride  in  the  omnibus,  where,  among  ten 
people,  not  a  word  was  spoken  the  whole  way.  I 
amused  myself  by  composing,  mentally,  an  essay  on 
walking-sticks,  and  found  that  I  could  hit  upon  the 
character  of  any  man  by  merely  a  glance  at  his 
favourite  stick.  There  is  the  stout  gent's  stick  ; 
the  dandy's  stick  ;  the  grave,  gay  or  careless  stick ; 
the  warlike  or  peaceful  stick  ;  the  bludgeon,  invisi- 
ble cane,  and  unpretending  stick,  etc. — all  indicative 
of  the  character  and  pretensions  of  their  owners. 
I  entered  the  city  of  Venice  in  high  good  humour 
with  this  conceit,  and  paid  the  boatmen  accordingly.' 
-N.Bk.  ends.] 

Venice  altogether  delighted  me.  The  picturesque 
buildings,  the  atmosphere,  the  gondola  life,  the  fine 


106  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

pictures,  the  fruit  vessels,  the  people,  all  were  inter- 
esting and  novel.  After  a  fortnight  spent  at  an 
hotel  I  got  lodgings  (3rd  piano)  with  some  nice 
people.  The  husband  had  been  a  servant  in  the 
British  Consulate,  and  he  had  taught  his  wife  English 
cookery  ;  and  I  agreed  with  her  to  dine  at  home,  as 
the  Venetian  cookery  was  too  rancid  with  oil.  I 
found  here  several  English  painters,  Wm.  Simpson, 
Fredk.  Pickersgill,  etc.  When  I  took  to  dining  at 
home  naturally  I  was  missed  by  them  at  the  restaur- 
ant. I  told  them  how  much  better  I  fared  at  my 
lodgings,  and  I  gave  them  a  little  dinner  at  my 
rooms  in  proof.  They  had  soup,  roast  meat,  and  a 
gooseberry  pudding,  and  good  wine.  After  dinner, 
a  gondolier  I  employed  came  under  my  window,  and 
we  all  went  out  on  the  canals.  The  sunset  was 
splendid,  and  we  all  thoroughly  enjoyed  ourselves 
listening  to  music  on  the  water.  This  was  such  a 
success  that  I  arranged  with  my  landlady  for  a  daily 
repetition  at  so  much  a  head,  and  this  arrangement 
continued  during  my  stay  at  Venice,  and  contributed 
greatly  to  our  comfort  and  enjoyment.  I  made 
studies  in  oil  in  the  galleries  of  the  '  Assumption  of 
the  Madonna,'  and  part  of  the  Frari  *  Titian,  one 
of  his  finest  works  ;  also  the  '  Peter  Martyr '  in 
water-colour,  and  a  few  sketches  from  nature.  After 
three  months  of  entire  enjoyment  I  left  with  Colonel 
Smith,  and  we  journeyed  homewards  together  down 
the  Rhine  to  Cologne,  where  I  lost  my  dressing-case 
(Mrs.  Atkinson's  kind  present),  left  in  a  bedroom 

w  *  Sta.  Maria  Gloriosa  del  Frari  (Franciscan  Church). 


MR.  PICKERSGILL,  R.A.  107 

drawer,  and  waited  for  it  three  days  at  Ostend  in 
vain. 

Thence  to  Dover.  After  nearly  two  years'  absence, 
it  seemed  strange  that  as  I  strolled  alone  about 
Dover  in  the  evening,  and  saw  the  pleasant  rooms 
lighted  up,  and  the  figures  flitting  about  in  the  warm 
glow  of  wax  candles,  there  was  not  a  soul  I  knew  to 
speak  to,  and  I  almost  regretted  that  I  had  returned. 
Next  day  by  coach  to  London,  and  found  dear  Ston- 
house  at  home  at  our  lodgings  in  Newman  Street. 

I  had  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Pickersgill,  R.A., 
requesting  me  to  call  on  him  when  I  returned,  as  he 
wished  to  hear  from  me  what  I  thought  of  his  son's 
progress  in  art,  as  I  had  seen  much  of  him  at 
Venice,  so  I  called  on  him  in  Soho  Square.  I  was 
shown  into  his  gallery  ;  and  after  some  time  he 
came  in  with  a  huge  palette  on  his  thumb.  At  first 
he  seemed  oblivious  of  me,  so  I  said  that  I  only 
ventured  to  call  in  compliance  with  his  request  to 
see  me,  but  if  I  was  not  wanted  I  would  take  my 
leave. 

'  Sir,'  said  he,  '  the  information  that  I  sought  for 
has  already  been  supplied  me.  Sir,  I  regret  to 
say  that  my  son  has  disappointed  me.  I  consented 
to  his  travelling  on  one  condition,  namely,  that  he 
was  to  give  me  a  weekly  account  of  his  studies,  and 
thus  he  would  have  the  inestimable  advantage  of 
deriving  benefit  from  my  instruction  and  advice. 
Sir,  he  only  wrote  to  me  when  he  wanted  money,  sir.' 

The  poor  old  gentleman  seemed  much  perturbed  ; 
but  I  assured  him  that  I  thought  highly  of  his  son's 


io8  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

general  conduct,  that  he  had  quite  a  genius  for 
languages,  and  that  he  seemed  to  be  working 
steadily  in  his  art ;  and  I  think  he  was  somewhat 
consoled.  He  subsequently  called  on  me  occasion- 
ally, and  I  think  was  really  friendly.  His  son  died 
at  an  early  age,  leaving  a  young  widow. 

'  Society  of  Ponte  Molle?  This  wras  a  convivial 
society  of  German  and  other  painters  in  Rome. 
They  held  meetings  in  the  evenings  occasionally,  in 
a  large  room  connected  with  a  trattoria  in  the  Corso. 
I  know  not  if  the  society  still  exists.  When  I  was 
in  Rome,  my  friend  Cornelius  Harrison  desired  to 
become  a  member,  and  on  the  night  of  his  election 
he  invited  some  of  his  friends  to  accompany  him. 
I  was  present,  and  also  Horace  Vernet,  the  famous 
French  battle  painter,  and  at  that  time  director  of 
the  French  Academic  des  Beaux  Arts  on  the 
Pincian,  and  considered  as  the  leading  painter  and 
representative  of  European  art  of  the  period.  He 
held  a  weekly  soiree,  at  which  C.  Harrison  was  a 
frequent  visitor  ;  and  there  he  met  Mdlle.  Vernet, 
daughter  of  the  President,  whom  he  greatly  ad- 
mired, and  who  afterwards  married  Paul  Delaroche, 
The  ceremonies  (at  Harrison's  election)  were  most 
amusing.  The  General  of  the  society  was  a 
clever  German  painter,  I  forget  his  name.  He-  sat 
in  the  centre  at  an  upper  cross-table.  All  round  the 
room  were  long  tables,  occupied  by  members  and 
their  invited  guests,  who  sat  on  chairs  between  the 
side-tables  and  the  walls.  C.  Harrison  was  brought 
in  on  the  back  of  the  '  Pilot,'  preceded  by  the 


THE  SOCIETY  Ob  PONTE  MOLLE  109 

'Lictor'  and  the  'Interpreter.'  The  latter  made 
a  short  speech  to  the  President,  to  introduce  an 
'  illustrious  Englishman  '  who  desired  '  to  be  received 
into  the  honourable  society,'  etc.  The  General 
replied  courteously,  and  then  required  the  Secretary 
to  read  the  rules.  These  were  comic  travesties, 
somewhat  similar  to  those  read  at  '  swearing-in  at 
Highgate,'  such  as,  '  You  promise  never  to  steal 
another's  wine,  but  rather  to  give  of  your  own,'  etc., 
etc.  C.  Harrison,  having  sworn  to  observe  them, 
was  required  to  sign  the  book  of  members,  and  to 
pay  for  the  entertainment  at  his  reception.  The 
General  then  shook  hands  with  the  '  illustrious 
Briton,'  and  he  was  conducted  by  the  Lictor,  armed 
with  a  bundle  of  canes,  and  holding  an  axe,  to  his 
seat.  The  General  then  made  a  lively  address  to 
the  company,  congratulating  them  on  the  happy 
addition  to  their  great  society,  and  proposed  the 
health  of  the  new  honourable  member.  This  was 
drunk  with  youthful  enthusiasm,  and  all  the  honours, 
all  standing  up.  They  then  sang,  with  much  energy 
and  with  real  musical  taste,  '  God  save  the  King,'  of 
which  the  chorus  was  tremendous. 

The  General  then  made  a  speech  in  honour  of 
an  illustrious  visitor  whom  he  observed  sitting  at 
Harrison's  table :  '  the  President  of  the  French 
Academy  in  Rome,  Mons.  Horace  Vernet.'  The 
cheers  were  deafening.  All  rose  and  drank  his 
health  and  '  welcome  '  ;  and  the  enthusiasm  was  so 
great  that  they  all  crowded  to  our  table  to  chink 
glasses  with  him.  H.  Vernet  filled  his  glass  to  each 


i  io  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

batch  of  about  half  a  dozen  at  a  time.  They  chinked 
and  drank  ;  and  as  there  were  about  200  present 
he  consumed  a  good  deal  of  wine,  as  he  always 
emptied  his  glass.  They  then  sang  the  '  Marseil- 
laise'  (I  think).  Then  Horace  rose  to  reply,  in 
French,  and  made  an  excellent,  terse,  vigorous 
speech,  speaking  of  the  brotherhood  of  all  art,  and 
ending  by  declaring  that  the  advantages  of  the 
French  Academy  were  open  to  all  nations,  and  that 
he,  as  director,  invited  all  to  make  use  of  them. 
Then  came  another  outburst  of  acclamation,  and 
more  wine  was  consumed.  Later  in  the  evening 
the  General  called  '  To  arms !'  He  used  his  chair 
as  a  horse,  sitting  astride  with  his  face  to  the  back. 
We  all  did  the  same,  and  then  he  called  out, 
'  Charge !'  Away  we  all  went,  round  and  round 
the  room,  between  the  tables  and  the  wall.  There 
were  many  falls  over  each  other,  and  shouting  and 
fun  became  '  fast  and  furious.'  I  took  advantage  of 
an  open  doorway  as  I  passed  it,  and  galloped  out 
and  got  home  to  bed,  so  I  did  not  see  the  end  of  it ; 
but  I  heard  it  was  considered  one  of  their  most 
lively  meetings.  The  society  had  an  annual  outing 
into  the  Campagna,  mounted  on  donkeys  and  armed 
with  long  canes  as  lances.  My  friend  Fearnley,  the 
Norwegian  painter,  was  cook,  and  had  the  duty  of 
mixing  the  salads.  He  was  got  up  very  profession- 
ally, and  wore  on  his  straw  hat  a  cabbage-lettuce, 
radishes,  etc.  I  was  told  that  at  one  time  the  Papal 
Government  interfered  with  the  society,  suspecting  it 
was  a  political  gathering,  and  tried  to  suppress  it. 


[  III  ] 


CHAPTER    IV. 

EARLY    PICTURES SHEEPSHANKS LOVE-MAKING. 

I  FORGET  why  we  left  our  Newman  Street  rooms  ; 
but  Stonhouse  migrated  to  Great  Marlborough 
Street,  and  I  took  part  of  two  floors  at  i,  Russell 
Place,  Fitzroy  Square.  The  house  belonged  to 
Mr.  Kiallmark,  a  musical  man.  The  Kiallmarks 
and  I  lived  there  pleasantly  for  some  years ; 
and  nothing  could  exceed  the  kindness  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Kiallmark,  and  his  sister,  Miss  Kiallmark, 
who  often  sat  to  me  for  my  pictures.  Both  these 
ladies  were  handsome  women — Mrs.  Kiallmark 
gentle  and  lively,  Miss  Kiallmark  tall,  grave  and 
grand  in  form.  Here  I  painted  some  of  my  best 
pictures :  '  The  Osteria,'  a  recollection  of  Italian 
travels,  in  which  Miss  Kiallmark  sat  for  the  princi- 
pal female,  I  sold  to  Mr.  Villebois  of  Benham  for 
1 50  guineas,  to  me  at  that  time  a  large  sum  ;  after 
his  death  it  was  acquired  by  the  Liverpool  Gallery — 
also  '  Paolo  and  Francesca  '  from  Dante.  These  two 
pictures  were  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy,  were 
well  hung,  and  attracted  much  notice  as  the  work  of 
a  '  new  man.'  The  latter  picture  was  purchased  by 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


an  art  society.  Where  it  is  now  I  know  not.  The 
'  Francesca '  was  painted  from  a  young  woman  I  had 
seen  at  the  large  confectioner's  shop  in  Bedford 
Row,  where  T.  Fearnley  had  taken  the  first  floor. 
She  was  married,  and  I  told  her  that  if  her  husband 
would  permit  her  to  sit  to  me  I  would  present  him 
with  a  small  likeness  of  her.  He  consented.  This 
small  portrait  was  duly  given,  and  it  was  seen  by 
the  well-known  Bow  Street  magistrate,  Mr.  Minshull. 
It  seems  that  he  took  a  great  interest  in  this  young 
woman,  as  she  was  the  daughter  of  an  old  servant 
and  friend,  an  Italian  (hence  her  beauty),  and  he 
had  approved  of  her  marriage  to,  I  think,  a  law- 
writer. 

'  Who  did  it  ?  '  said  he.  '  A  monstrous  pretty 
thing !' 

Soon  afterwards  Minshull  called  on  me,  and,  with 
a  Bow  Street  manner,  asked,  '  Did  you  paint  that 
picture  ?' 

I  said,  '  Yes,'  and  told  him  how  it  happened. 

'  Well,'  said  he,  '  do  you  think  you  could  paint  me  ?' 

I  said  I  would  try,  if  he  wished  it.  (He  was  a 
very  ugly  old  man  :  hair  like  pins,  nose  bulbous, 
complexion  yellowish-brown,  eyes  small.) 

'  Well,'  said  he,  '  we  will  draw  up  an  agreement : 
you  to  paint  me  for  so  much,  and  I  to  pay  you  so 
much.' 

I  asked  what  was  the  necessity,  as,  if  I  did  not 
succeed,  he  could  refuse  to  take  the  picture,  so  that 
he  was  quite  safe,  and  I  was  contented  to  trust  him 
for  honourable  payment.  After  this  his  magisterial 


A  BOW  STREET  MAGISTRATE  113 


manner  quite  changed  towards  me.  When  he  first 
sat,  he  told  me  that  his  colleague  on  the  bench  said, 
on  being  told  that  he  should  not  be  at  the  office  as 
he  was  going  to  sit  for  his  likeness  : 

'  Then  you'll  have  a  d d  ugly  picture  !' 

We  became  great  friends,  and  I  received  annually 
a  basket  of  woodcock  from  Devonshire.  When  the 
picture  was  finished,  my  friend  Sulivan  happened  to 
call,  and  Mr.  Minshull  asked  him  what  he  thought 
of  it ;  and  then  he  asked  to  have  his  coachman 
called  in  to  look  at  it,  as  he  had  been  with  him 
many  years.  The  man  was  amusing. 

Sulivan  asked  him,  '  Is  that  like  your  master?' 
'  Ye-es,'  said  he,  grinning,   'that  it  be.' 
'  You  don't  say  that  you'd  know  it,  eh  ?' 
'  No-o-o,'  grinning  again. 

I  made  two  replicas  of  this  picture.  I  sent  it  to 
the  Royal  Academy,  and  it  was  the  only  picture  I 
ever  sent  that  was  rejected,  and  I  did  not  wonder. 
It  was  an  ugly  picture  :  a  snuff-brown  great-coat, 
red  pocket-handkerchief,  and  stooping  figure  with 
'  knobby  '  knuckles. 

Mr.  Minshull  was  an  interesting  and  good  man. 
He  had  been  on  the  bench  for  fifty  years.  In  his 
early  days  he  was  a  great  Sussex  landholder,  and 
had  kept  terms  only  to  fit  him  for  serving  as  a 
county  magistrate.  The  war  with  France  was  at 
its  height  ;  and  a  friend  of  Minshull's,  a  banker, 
told  him  that,  as  the  ports  were  all  closed,  mer- 
chants were  being  ruined,  and  he  feared  his  bank 
would  have  to  stop  payment.  Minshull  lent  him 

8 


ii4  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

all    his    fortune  ;    and    the   banker    told    him    with 
tears  : 

'  I  have  ruined  you  as  well  as  myself.' 

Minshull  replied,  '  Sir,  in  like  circumstances  I 
would  do  the  same  again.' 

But  he  was  reduced  from  affluence,  and  took  the 
office  of  magistrate  as  a  means  of  living.  He  told 
me  that  there  was  no  place  equal  to  a  London  police- 
court  for  seeing  real  character ;  and,  added  he, 
'  When  I  see  the  fearful  strength  of  temptation  to 
which  poor  people  are  exposed,  and  their  ignorance 
and  bad  education,  I  feel  that  under  similar  condi- 
tions I  might  have  been  as  bad,  or  worse,  and  I  say 
mentally,  "  Lead  us  not  into  temptation." 

I  also  painted  here  'The  Soldier's  Return.'  It 
was  purchased  by  Mr.  Mollet  for  the  purpose  of 
engraving.  Also  '  Lovers ' — a  man  playing  the 
guitar  to  a  young  woman.  This  was  purchased  by 
Henry  Atkinson.  And  I  did  a  replica  for  the  Kiall- 
marks,  who  were  my  models ;  I  also  etched  this 
picture.  Another  picture  was  '  The  Flemish  Mother,' 
a  life-sized  group,  three-quarter  length.  She  rested 
her  head  on  her  husband's  shoulder,  their  child  in 
her  lap :  a  deep-toned  picture,  exhibited  at  the 
Royal  Academy.  When  it  came  home  unsold,  an 
accident  upset  the  picture,  and  a  chair  knocked  a 
hole  through  it.  I  sent  it  to  an  old  man  to  repair, 
a  Mr.  Jennings,  a  pupil  of  Benjamin  West,  P. R.A. 
He  lined  it,  and  sent  it  home  shining  with  thick 
varnish,  which  tore  the  picture  to  pieces,  so  I 
destroyed  it. 


HOLIDAY  RAMBLES  115 

During  these  years  I  kept  up  exercise  by  regular 
hours  of  boating,  meeting  the  crew  every  summer 
evening  at  Westminster  at  seven  o'clock,  and  seldom 
getting  back  before  eleven,  pulling  up  to  Richmond 
or  down  to  Woolwich.  Once  a  fortnight  we  took  a 
whole  day,  starting  at  6  p.m.,  and  getting  to  Graves- 
end  at  low  water,  sleeping  there  for  a  tide,  then 
pulling  down  further  next  morning,  and  returning  in 
one  tide.  This  kept  us  in  good  health.  Also  I  was 
a  frequent  guest  at  my  friend  Sulivan's,  at  Ashford, 
near  Staines,  where  I  always  found  the  warmest 
welcome.  T.  Fearnley  frequently  accompanied  me, 
and  also  Richard  Redgrave.  Once  I  took  an 
excursion  with  Fearnley  to  the  English  Lakes.  He 
joined  me  at  my  friend's,  Mr.  Elam,  '  the  Squire  ' 
as  he  was  called,  in  Dent  Dale,  Yorkshire,  where  I 
was  staying.  The  evening  he  was  expected,  the 
Squire  and  I  walked  over  the  moors  some  miles  to 
meet  him.  We  could  see  nothing  of  him  along  the 
now  dimly-seen  road  in  the  distance  below  us.  We 
waited  till  dark  and  then  returned.  About  ten  o'clock 
a  hammering  at  the  door  was  heard,  and  I  went  out, 
and  there  stood  Fearnley.  When  he  came  into  the 
light  I  was  amused  at  his  appearance.  He  wore 
a  blouse,  crossed  and  re-crossed  with  broad  straps 
holding  a  large  sketching-box,  fishing-basket  and 
rod  ;  an  iron-spiked  staff  and  knapsack  ;  and  these 
stuck  out  so  on  each  side  that  he  could  scarcely  get 
into  the  doorway.  He  wore  a  straw  hat  garlanded 
with  flowers,  and  was  in  a  profuse  perspiration. 
.Finding  that  there  wiere  two  ladies  in  the  house,  he 


n6  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

declared  he  would  not  come  in.  I  had  deceived 
him,  he  said.  I  had  mentioned  a  '  shooting-box,' 
this  was  a  '  house.' 

At  last  I  got  him  to  his  room,  where  he  gradually 
shed  his  numerous  belongings,  and  I  brought  him 
downstairs.     The    Squire  and   ladies  soon  set  him 
at  his  ease.      He  had  missed  his  way,  and  meditated 
spending  the  night  on  the  moor  ;  but  at  last  he  got 
to  the  highest  ridge,  and  from  thence  could  see  only 
a  faint  glimmer  of  a  stream,  the  Dee,  but  no  house. 
(The  few  houses  were  just  below  him,  and  he  saw 
over  them.)     The  descent  was  steep,  but  at  last  a 
house  dimly  appeared.      He  knocked.     All  gone  to 
bed.      However,   a  farmer  directed  him  out  of  an 
upper  window,   and    on    he   trudged.     The    stream 
had  to  be  crossed  over  a  narrow  arch,  and  he  was 
fortunate  in   the  dark  not  to  have  fallen   in,  and  at 
length   the  desired  haven  was   reached.      He  gave 
me  a  great  scolding,   and  thought  he  had  walked 
thirty  miles  !     It  was  over  twelve.      He  gave  us  all 
infinite   amusement.      He    had    supposed    that    the 
North  of  England  resembled  the  wilds  of  Norway  ! 
Next  day  he  appeared  in  a  striped  calico  jacket,  a 
butler's,  which  he  had  bought  as  a  light  and  becom- 
ing costume  ;  and  when  he  went  out  sketching,  with 
his  box,  he  was  taken  for  a  pedlar  and  asked  for 
pins  and  ribbons.      He  went  on  to  Ullswater,  and 
the  inn  was  full,  so  he  had  to  dine  in  the  kitchen, 
and  sleep  on  a  sofa  after  the  guests  had  retired  ;  but 
luckily  he  was  not  alone,  for  a  young  collegian,  a 
son  of  Lord  Strangford's,  was  in  a  similar  condition, 


AN  IMPERFECT  LESSON  117 

and  they  fraternized.  After  he  got  a  bedroom  he 
pinned  up  his  oil  sketches,  and  the  landlord  (a  boor) 
used  to  bring  in  his  guests  to  see  them.  He  hated 
the  landlord,  and  asked  me  what  to  say  to  him  when 
he  asked  him,  '  Where  are  you  going  to  this  morn- 
ing?' 

I  suggested  :  '  Mind  your  own  business.' 

'  Oh  no,  that  is  not  strong  enough." 

He  seemed  satisfied  with,  '  What  the  deuce  is 
that  to  you  ?' 

So  out  he  marched.  The  usual  query  was  uttered. 
Said  Fearnley  : 

'  What  shall  that  be  for  you  the  devil  ?' 

He  had  forgotten  his  lesson.  Several  grooms  at 
a  stable  door  shouted  with  laughter.  Dire  was 
Fearnley's  anger  with  me. 

'  You  are  a  rogue  ;  you  make  them  laugh  at  me 
the  more.' 

However,  I  soon  convinced  him  what  an  absurd 
jumble  of  English  he  had  made.  Here  joined  us 
my  friends,  the  Atkinsons,  and  two  Miss  Hudsons, 
and  we  thus  made  a  large  party,  and  Fearnley  was 
left  in  peace  to  make  some  beautiful  sketches  of 
scenery.  One  evening  it  was  said  by  someone  that 
the  plural  of  fungus  should  be  in  English  funguses ^ 
not  fungi,  which  was  Latin. 

Said  Fearnley  :  '  I  think  you  are  all  wrong  ;  it  is 
neither.' 

'  What,  then,  do  you  say  it  is,  Mr.  Fearnley  ?'  said 
a  lady. 

'  Well,    you    say    "  gus    (goose),    geese,"   so   you 


ii8  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

should    say     also     "  fungoose,    fungeese,"      replied 
Fearnley. 

Redgrave  and  I  had  become  friends  in  rather  an 
odd  way.  He  was  a  student  at  the  Royal  Academy, 
and  being  a  steady  and  dependable  fellow,  was  often 
asked  to  officiate  if  the  visitors  wished  to  leave  early. 
One  evening  the  model  had  ceased  sitting  and  left 
the  '  throne,'  and  Redgrave  jumped  up  playfully  in 
his  place,  and  put  his  arm  through  a  loop  which  the 
model,  a  tall  guardsman,  had  been  holding.  Red- 
grave's hand  caught  in  the  loop  and  he  was  sus- 
pended, and  then  he  fell  down,  almost  fainting  with 
pain.  I  ran  up  to  help  him,  as  his  arm  was  injured, 
and  got  him  out  and  hailed  a  cab.  He  told  me  he 
lived  at  Westminster,  and  thither  we  drove.  It  was 
raining  hard,  and  when  we  had  got  as  far  as  Charing 
Cross  the  harness  gave  way  ;  the  horse  trotted  on 
without  us,  the  shafts  tilted  up,  and  we  were  thrown 
out  in  the  muddy  road  on  our  backs.  A  crowd 
gathered,  supposing  that  Redgrave's  hurt  was 
caused  by  the  upset.  I  hailed  another  cab,  and  we 
drove  off,  leaving  cabby  No.  i  to  catch  and  bring 
back  his  horse,  and  at  last  I  got  Redgrave  home. 
He  was  very  grateful,  and  thus  commenced  an 
intimacy  which  ended  only  with  his  death.  There 
was  a  waste  piece  of  ground  at  Kensington  Gore, 
opposite  the  small  cavalry  barracks  at  the  entry  of 
Kensington  Gardens  and  the  turnpike,  now  both 
pulled  down.  This  was  the  haunt  of  one  or  two 
donkeys  which  fed  on  the  thin  grass  and  thistles. 
It  was  purchased  'by  a  schoolmaster,  a  Mr.  Hanson, 


RICHARD  REDGRAVE,  R.A.  119 

for  about  ^300.  He  built  himself  a  house  on  it, 
and  let  the  rest  gradually  on  building  leases.  Red- 
grave and  I  each  took  a  portion,  and  later  his 
brother  Samuel  took  two,  and  four  houses  were 
built,  and  here  I  settled  as  a  married  man,  with 
the  brothers  Redgrave  as  neighbours,  and  only  left 
it  after  my  dear  wife's  death. 

About  the  end  of  my  sojourn  in  Russell  Place,  my 
friend  John  Atkinson  was  interested  in  building  a 
new  church  at  Little  Woodhouse,  near  Leeds  ;  and 
it  was  determined  that  instead  of  a  large  east 
window,  the  space  should  be  filled  by  an  altar-piece  ; 
and  I  offered  to  paint  it  and  present  it  to  the  church, 
on  condition  that  my  expenses  (only)  were  paid. 
This  was  accepted,  and  I  was  glad  of  an  opportunity 
of  trying  to  do  something  in  a  higher  phase  of  art. 
I  took  as  my  theme  the  text  :  '  He  ever  liveth  to 
make  intercession  for  us.'  On  the  lower  plane  were 
represented  groups  of  human  sufferers  ;  a  dying  man, 
supported  by  his  wife,  looking  up  to  heaven  ;  a 
widow  and  children  ;  a  contrite  penitent  on  his 
knees,  and  an  old  man  pointing  up  to  the  cross.  In 
the  upper  plane  were  rolling  clouds,  and  in  a  misty 
glory  was  shown  the  figure  of  the  Saviour  looking 
up  in  prayer.  The  picture  was  about  sixteen  feet 
high  by  about  twelve,  I  think.  I  exhibited  it  at  the 
Royal  Academy :  it  was  hung  in  the  centre  of  the 
second  room  (at  the  old  Royal  Academy  rooms  of 
the  National  Gallery),  before  it  was  sent  to  its  des- 
tination ;  and  it  was  a  great  compliment  to  a  young 
man*  to  place  so  large  a  picture  in  so  good  a  place. 

*  Aged  twenty-eight. 


120  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

In  order  to  execute  this  picture  I  left  Russell  Place, 
and  took  a  large  room  which  had  been  built  for 
R.  B.  Haydon  in  a  small  street  out  of  Lisson 
Grove.  After  Haydon's  death  it  had  been  used 
as  a  temporary  chapel  while  a  church  was  being 
built.  It  belonged  to  Basil  Wood,  the  wine- 
merchant,  and  he  told  me  that  Haydon's  rent  was 
.£100,  but  he  confessed  that  he  had  not  paid  it.  So 
he  took  less  from  me,  as  I  told  him  I  would  pay  it. 
There  was  a  small  room  out  of  the  large  one,  which 
had  been  used  as  a  vestry,  which  I  made  into  a  bed- 
room. It  had  a  skylight  ;  and  being  open,  mice  got 
in  and  used  to  jump  on  me  in  bed.  It  was  very 
damp  and,  I  believe,  unhealthy. 

For  many  years  I  visited  Mr.  John  Sheepshanks 
at  Blackheath.  He  had  been  a  friend  of  my, father 
in  my  school-boy  days,  and  sometimes  I  used  to  be 
taken  to  visit  him.  He  was  a  collector  of  rare  and 
costly  books,  in  which,  at  that  time,  I  had  no 
interest,  but  I  listened  to  their  discussions  about 
them.  When  I  came  to  London  I  was  invited  to 
his  rooms  in  Bond  Street,  to  look  at  his  collection 
of  rare  etchings.  He  seemed  to  me  to  value  them 
more  for  their  rarity  than  for  their  merit ;  e.g.,  an 
early  impression  which  was  scarce  was  to  him  worth 
much  more  than  the  finished  production,  and  on 
my  venturing  one  evening  to  say  so,  he  was  dis- 
concerted ;  and  to  show  me  how  wrong  I  was,  he 
made  me  count,  with  a  magnifier,  the  number  of  dots 
on  a  sheep's  tail  ;  and  the  impression  with  twenty 
dots  he  considered  much  better  than  that  with  fifty. 


JOHN  SHEEPSHANKS  121 

'  Why,  then,'  I  asked,  '  did  the  artist  who  did  the 
etching  add  more  than  twenty  ?  Was  it  not  that, 
by  so  doing,  he  represented  the  form  more  perfectly, 
and  was  not  he  the  best  judge  ?' 

After  this,  he  shut  up  the  book,  and  would  show 
me  no  more  ;  for  which,  in  reality,  I  was  not  sorry, 
as  I  used  to  get  very  sleepy  in  dwelling  so  long  on 
each  impression. 

He  left  Bond  Street,  and  took  a  house  with  large 
gardens  at  Blackheath,  where  he  made  the  beginning 
of  his  famous  collection  of  cabinet  pictures,  mostly 
works  of  Leslie,  Mulready,  Callcott,  and  Edwin 
Landseer.  Every  Wednesday  a  dinner  was  pre- 
pared for  chosen  guests,  who  were  expected  without 
special  invitation,  and  he  was  disappointed  if  his 
table  was  not  filled.  The  standard  guests  were 
eminent  engravers,  Robinson,  Fox,  and  J.  Burnet  ; 
and  Mulready,  Leslie  and  Edwin  Landseer  were  the 
principal  painters.  The  dinners  were  always  plain, 
but  good,  and  excellently  cooked,  and  the  wines 
first-rate.  We  left  early,  as  we  had  to  walk  across 
Blackheath  to  catch  the  train  at  Greenwich.  He 
invited  also  any  friends  of  his  usual  standing  guests 
occasionally  ;  and  having  heard  of  Tom  Fearnley  as 
a  character,  he  asked  me  to  bring  him  to  dinner.  I 
did  so,  and  a  very  merry  evening  we  had.  Fearnley 
was  in  extra  good  spirits,  and  amused  Mr.  Sheep- 
shanks very  much.  But  he  made  one  mistake,  in 
saying  that  no  port  was  equal  to  '  white  port.'  This 
irritated  our  host,  who  prided  himself  on  his  good 
cellar,  and  he  said  white  port  was  '  trash  ';  but  in 


122  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

order  to  convince  Fearnley,  he  ordered  his  servant 
to  bring  up  a  bottle  of  .-it.  Fearnley  stood  to  his 
guns  by  declaring  it  was  better  than  red,  and  he 
drank  it.  Each  guest  after  dinner  had  three  or  four 
glasses  beside  him,  as  several  wines  were  in  circula- 
tion, and  when  Fearnley  was  reminded,  '  The  wine  is 
with  you,'  he  would  empty  his  glasses  of  whatever 
remained  in  them,  and  then  fill  them  all  up  again, 
by  way  of  doing  honour  to  his  host's  hospitality  ! 
When  the  time  came  to  depart,  Mr.  Sheepshanks 
would  see  us  part  of  the  way,  and  seeing  Fearnley 
rather  unsteady,  took  his  arm.  Coming,  in  the 
twilight,  on  a  sudden  dip  in  the  ground,  they  both 
fell  into  the  hollow,  and  we  had  to  help  them  out 
and  then  see  Mr.  Sheepshanks  safe  home  again  ! 

Another  evening  I  met  Robinson  on  a  Greenwich 
steamer  with  Richmond,  bound  for  Blackheath. 
Richmond,  whom  I  had  not  seen  before,  was  very 
complimentary  and  friendly  ;  and  what  began  as  a 
casual  acquaintanceship  ripened  into  a  life-long 
friendship  and  affection.  Near  St.  John's  Wood  he 
had  a  friend,  a  musical  man,  Knyvett,  at  whose  field, 
near  his  house,  he  had  a  weekly  game  at  cricket,  to 
which  I  was  invited  one  day,  and  I  took  Stonhouse 
with  me.  Richmond  was  spending  the  summer  at 
Hampstead,  and  used  to  ride  over ;  but  on  this 
occasion  he  failed  to  appear.  Mrs.  Richmond  and 
another  lady  were  there,  and  when  it  got  rather  late 
Stonhouse  and  I  escorted  them  across  the  fields  to 
Hampstead.  Next  day  Richmond  called  on  me  to 
thank  me,  and  thus  commenced  our  friendship* 


.GEORGE  RICHMOND,  R.A.  123 

At  this  time  Redgrave  was  living  with  his  brother 
in  Kensington  Square,  and-. in  the  summer  of  1839 
he  asked  me  what  would  be  a  good  sketching- 
ground,  as  he  wanted  to  make  drawings  from  nature. 
I  recommended  the  valley  of  the  Tees  and  Greta, 
and  offered  to  go  with  him,  as  I  could  get  good  fly- 
fishing for  trout  in  those  rivers,  and  I  had  a. strong 
recollection  of  the  beauty  of  the  scenery.  We  put 
up  at  Greta  Bridge  Inn,  the  large  posting-house 
overlooking  the  river  Greta.  My  friend  Sulivan 
wished  to  join  me,  so  I  fortunately  found  rooms  for 
him  and  Mrs.  Sulivan  and  Eugenie  at  Mortham 
Tower,  a  sort  of  castellated  old  house,  close  to  the 
junction  of  Tees  and  Greta,  most  romantically 
situated,  and  where  we  anticipated  a  happy  time. 
I  took  them  to  their  quarters,  with  which  they  were 
delighted,  and  I  returned  to  the  inn.  About  three 
o'clock  next  morning  a  servant  knocked  me  up  and 
said  that  my  friend  was  downstairs.  It  was  Sulivan. 
He  looked  corpse-like,  and  panted  for  breath.  A 
violent  attack  of  asthma  had  seized  him,  and  he 
had  lain  on  the  floor  nearly  all  night  struggling 
to  breathe.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  flight,  and 
he  took  a  post-chaise  for  Redcar,  the  nearest  sea- 
side place.  So  Redgrave  and  I  took  his  rooms  at 
Mortham  Tower,  where  Redgrave  sketched  while  I 
fished. 

One  morning  I  had  fished  down  the  Tees  about 
five  miles,  and  waded  across  the  river  to  a  small 
village  inn  to  get  luncheon.  As  I  ascended  the 
opposite  bank  I  saw  a  very  characteristic  figure 


124  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

standing  talking  to  a  villager.  He  was  a  tall  big 
man,  dressed  in  a  green  shooting-coat,  red  waistcoat, 
white  cord  breeches,  large  brown  gloves  and  gaiters, 
and  holding  a  stout  hunting-whip.  His  face  was 
rosy,  nose  prominent,  strong  square  chin.  He  eyed 
me  and  said,  '  Good-morning,'  and  I  passed  on  ;  but 
it  occurred  to  me  that  he  resembled  my  friend 
Cornelius  Harrison,  and  corresponded  to  his  de- 
scription of  his  father.  So  I  retraced  my  steps  and 
said  : 

'  Am  I  addressing  Mr.  Harrison  ?' 
'  Yes  ;  and  what  is  your  name  ?'  said  he. 
I  told  him  of  my  friendship  with  his  late  son. 
'  Sir,'  said  he,  '  a  friend  of  Corny's  is  my  friend  ;' 
and,  taking  off  his  huge  glove,  he  clasped  my  hand. 
'  Come  along,  and  see  his  mother ! 

I  was  too  wet  and  muddy  with  wading  to  go  ;  but 
I  promised  to  call  another  day.  I  lunched  at  a 
public-house,  on  rock-like  cheese,  stale  bread  and 
sour  beer,  and  fished  back  to  Mortham.  While 
Redgrave  and  I  were  dining,  a  groom  came  with  a 
letter  asking  us  to  come  next  day  and  dine  at  Stubb 
House  at  three,  on  fillet  of  veal  and  a  bottle  of  good 
port,  and  I  was  to  bring  my  friend  with  me.  On 
our  way  there  next  day  a  violent  storm  of  rain  and 
thunder  drove  us  to  a  shed  in  a  field,  and  there  I 
found  a  native  taking  shelter.  I  got  him  to  take  a 
note  of  apology,  and  we  returned  to  Mortham,  wet 
through.  Again  appeared  the  horse  and  groom 
from  Stubb  House,  and  we  ''must  go  next  day' 
and  dine  with  him,  and  join  the  ladies  in  the  draw- 


THE  BENNING  FAMILY  125 

ing-room  in  the  evening,  where  I  should  find  some 
nice  girls  as  well  as  Mrs.  Harrison.  We  went ;  and 
there  for  the  first  time  I  met  two  of  the  Miss 
Bennings,  the  younger  of  whom  became  my  wife. 

There  were  other  young  ladies  whom  I  thought 
rather  too  forward  ;  and  they  kept  Miss  Charlotte 
Benning  constantly  at  the  piano,  although  they 
talked  loudly  all  the  time  she  played.  I  thought, 
'  How  amiable  that  girl  is !'  This  was  my  first  im- 
pression of  her  :  modest,  retiring,  quite  contented  to 
be  overlooked,  and  to  make  herself  useful. 

On  the  following  Sunday  Redgrave  and  I  went 
to  church  at  Barnard  Castle,  and  after  service  we 
met  the  same  young  ladies,  and  were  asked  to  call 
at  the  various  houses.  We  went  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Benning's,  and  were  hospitably  invited  to  visit  them. 
Mr.  Benning  was  an  eminent  surgeon,  had  a  very 
large  country  practice,  and  kept  three  or  four  horses 
in  constant  work,  one  being  used  for  hunting  mainly. 
Mrs  Benning  was  a  second  wife.  She  was  a  Miss 
Preston,  sister  of  the  Rev.  J.  Preston,  owner  of 
Warcop  Hall,  where  he  resided,  and  also  Rector  of 
the  family  living.  Mr.  Benning  had  three  daughters, 
Ellen,  Charlotte,  and  Elizabeth,  and  two  sons  living. 
The  eldest  son,  James,  was  in  partnership  with  his 
father,  but  he  died  during  the  year  following.  The 
youngest,  Charles,  is  now,  and  has  been  for  many 
years,  a  solicitor  at  Dunstable,  and  was  its  first 
Mayor  ;  a  keen  sportsman  and  good  rifle-shot  (third 
for  the  Queen's  prize  in  the  first  year  at  Wimbledon), 
jolly  and  hospitable,  but  old  enough  to  think  of 


126  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

retiring  from  business.  My  companion,  Redgrave, 
left  for  London,  and  I  remained  for  a  few  weeks 
longer,  during  which  time  I  painted  a  picture  of  a 
Scotch  terrier,  which  I  exchanged  for  the  real  dog, 
belonging  to  the  Bennings.  I  saw  a  great  deal  of 
my  future  wife,  whom  I  liked  more  and  more  as  I 
knew  her  better,  and  at  last  she  consented  to  my 
speaking  to  her  father,  and  asking  for  his  consent 
to  an  engagement.  I  invited  him  to  come  and  see 
me  at  Mortham  Tower,  and  at  last  he  gave  a  con- 
ditional consent,  to  depend  upon  further  inquiries. 

During  part  of  this  time  Mrs.  Benning  was  absent 
from  home  at  H  arrogate,  and  he  said  he  should 
consult  her,  and  went  there  for  that  purpose.  Alas  ! 
the  first  result  of  his  consultation  was  a  letter  from 
him  to  say  that,  until  he  had  some  proof  of  my  re- 
spectability, he  must  withdraw  from  his  provisional 
consent ;  that  personally  he  liked  me  much,  etc., 
but  that  he  trusted  to  my  honour  not  to  visit  the 
house  in  his  absence.  This,  of  course,  was  the  result 
of  his  wife's  advice,  who  was  offended  at  all  this 
happening  during  her  absence.  She  thought  she 
ought  to  have  been  the  first  person  to  be  consulted. 
I  was  thus  left  in  a  dilemma  ;  but  I  acknowledged 
his  letter,  and  said  I  was  most  anxious  to  satisfy  his 
very  reasonable  scruples,  and  if  he  would  refer  to 
my  friend  and  legal  adviser,  John  Atkinson,  I  would 
be  glad  to  accompany  him  to  Leeds.  His  wife  said  : 
4  As  if  a  friend  would  say  anything  adverse  !'  When 
\  found  that  he  hesitated  about  going,  I  became 
angry,  and  wrote,  rather  hotly,  to  demand,  as  a  right, 


COURSE  OF  TRUE  LOVE,'  ETC.  127 


that  he  should  satisfy  himself  on  my  character,  on 
which  I  considered  he  had  insinuated  a  doubt.  So 
we  went  together,  saw  J.  Atkinson,  who  heartily 
laughed  at  my  adventure,  and  satisfied  Mr.  Benning's 
scruples.  We  stayed  to  lunch,  where  we  met  my 
friend  and  schoolfellow,  Rev.  S.  Hey,  and  then  I 
escorted  him  to  the  coach-office  on  his  return,  when 
he  said  :  '  Well,  if  I  don't  say  "  Yes "  at  once,  I 
can't  say  "  No."  ' 

Then,  I  said,  I  considered  it  settled. 
During  the  time  I  was  left  in  the  lurch  at  Barnard 
Castle,  I    was   not  quite  comfortless,  for  the  doctor 
brother  at  home,  James  Benning,  came  to  cheer  me. 
And  one  day  I   was  strolling  through  the   church- 
yard,  when    I   met    the   Rev,    Burleigh   James,    the 
curate,  who  asked  where  I  was  going. 
I  said,  '  Back  to  Mortham  Tower.' 
'  Stay  and  dine  with  me  and  my  wife,'  said  he. 
I  went,  and  in  the  evening  who  should  be  in  the 
drawing-room  but  the  two  sisters,  Ellen  and  Charlotte! 
Burleigh  James  set  me  down  to  play  with  Charlotte 
at  chess  (!),  of  which  she  did  not  know  the  moves 
even  ;  but  the  game  was  pleasant,  and   I  lost  it,  of 
course.      I  left  early,  and  Charlotte  escorted  me  as 
far  as  the  Rokeby  one-arched  bridge,  where  we  took 
a  tender  farewell  of  each  other.      I  found  afterwards 
that  the  doctor    had  consulted   Burleigh   James  aH 
along,   and   that    he  had  been  my  stanch  friend  in 
opposition  to  Mrs.  Benning  :  hence  the  father's  irre- 
solution.    The  young  ladies  were  as  much  surprised 
to  see  me  at  his  house  as  I  was  to  find  them  there. 


128  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

And  how  kind  and  thoughtful  it  was-  in  Burleigh 
James  to  contrive  it !  for  if  he  had  told  them  whom 
they  would  meet,  of  course  they  could  not  have 
gone. 

During  these  weeks  I  was  not  always  love-making, 
for  I  fished  considerably  and  sketched  somewhat  ; 
and  this  appears  to  be  a  convenient  place  to  describe 
two  characters  with  whom  I  made  acquaintance  at 
the  river-side.  One  was  a  rare  good  trout-fisher  and 
fly-dresser,  Tom  Taylor.  Our  acquaintance  began 
by  his  wading  across  Tees  with  me  on  his  back,  as  I 
wished  to  cross  over.  I  met  him  frequently,  and  he 
spoke  of  me  as  '  a  fellow  with  a  check  suit,  and  a 
keen  fisher.'  He  told  me  that  he  was  a  gentleman 
by  birth,  and  none  of  '  your  common  sort ';  his  father 
was  a  lieutenant  in  the  navy,  got  into  trouble  and 
was  sent  to  a  treadmill,  where  he  proposed  marriage 
to  a  female  prisoner  through  the  iron  bars,  and 
married  her  when  they  were  released  from  gaol. 
Taylor  wras  a  good  wrestler  and  swimmer,  and  in 
the  winter  taught  dancing.  He  was  a  fearless,  reck- 
less fellow,  and  a  great  poacher,  and  perhaps  a 
general  vagabond.  The  Rev.  W.  Wharton,  of 
Barningham,  told  me  that  on  one  occasion  he  was 
brought  before  him  as  magistrate  for  poaching. 
Taylor  proved  an  alibi,  and  his  accusers  failed  to 
convict  him.  So  the  magistrate  told  him  to  go 
about  his  business.  Taylor  hesitated  and  lingered, 
and  then  said  to  him : 

'  Am  I  clear  of  this  charge,  sir ;  that  is,  can   I  be 
had  up  again  for  this  offence  ?' 


AN  EXCITING  FISHING  MATCH  129 

'  No,'  said 'the  magistrate  ;  '  you  are  acquitted  this 
time,  only  take  care  for  the  future.' 

'  Well,  then,'  said  Tom,  '  I  don't  like  telling  lies  :  I 
was  there,  Mr.  Wharton.' 

On  one  occasion,  when  a  house  was  on  fire,  Tom 
Taylor  volunteered  to  go  up  on  to  the  ridge  of  the 
roof,  and  he  was  seen  sitting  astride  and  hauling  up 
buckets  of  water  to  throw  over  the  burning  rafters. 
He  was  once  backed  by  some  gentleman  in  a  two- 
days'  fishing-match  in  the  river  Eden  against  a  cele- 
brated Penrith  fisher.  Taylor  was  gradually  filling 
his  creel,  when  the  fish  ceased  to  rise.  He  got  im- 
patient, and  waded  rapidly  up  the  stream,  and 
suddenly  came  in  sight  of  a  man  fishing  in  front 
of  him,  and  of  course  disturbing  his  fishing-ground. 
Taylor  went  up  to  him  and  told  him  that,  as  he  was 
fishing  a  match,  he  hoped  he  would  withdraw.  Not 
he  ;  and  he  d d  Taylor. 

'  Then,'  said  Tom,  '  if  you  won't  go  when  I  ask 
you  civilly,  I'll  make  you  go.' 

'  Try  it,'  said  the  other. 

Tom  threw  down  his  rod,  gave  his  watch  to  the 
umpire,  who  was  to  keep  it  in  case  of  his  death,  and 
they  gripped  each  other  in  mid-stream.  Tom's 
opponent  was  a  noted  wrestler,  and  after  a  short 
struggle  they  both  fell,  Tom  underneath. 

'  But,'  said  he,  '  I'd  got  hold  of  his  throat,  and  I 
kept  a  tight  hold,  keeping  in  my  breath  under  water, 
for  I  was  a  rare  good  swimmer.' 

At  last  the  man  let  go,  and  was  gurgling  under 

9 


130  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

water,  so  Tom  made  a  violent  effort  and  got  above 
him,  so  that  he  could  breathe  again. 

He  held  his  opponent  down  till  the  man  seemed 
drowned,  and  then  dragged  him  out  by  his  hair. 
But  the  man  suddenly  revived  ;  so  Tom  held  his 
hair  with  one  hand  and  pummelled  his  face  with  the 
other,  till,  as  he  said,  '  I  fairly  blinded  him  ;  he 
couldn't  fish  again,'  and  he  left  him  on  the  bank 
to  be  taken  or  led  home.  He  then  took  his  watch 
from  the  umpire  and  resumed  his  fishing,  and  had 
very  good  sport,  and  on  the  second  day  he  had  no 
interruption.  I  believe  it  was  a  drawn  match. 
When  Taylor  went  to  Penrith  to  sleep,  he  found 
himself  a  hero,  as  his  antagonist  was  a  noted  prize- 
fighter, and  was  called  'Fighting  Billy';  and  Tom 
was  pointed  at  as  '  the  little  chap  that  licked  Fight- 
ing Billy ' — a  sort  of  David  vanquishing  Goliath. 

My  other  acquaintance  was  Tommy  Bell,  a  shoe- 
maker, a  quiet,  gentle  creature.  He  made  horse- 
hair casting  lines  for  me,  and  flies.  He  fished  one 
day  in  each  week.  He  had  a  rugged  knitted  brow. 
He  was  always  eager  to  see  the  result  of  my  day's 
sport,  handling  the  trout  lovingly.  He  lived  in  a 
room  on  the  first  floor  of  a  small  house,  where  he 
sat  at  shoe-making  in  the  window.  The  room  had 
a  sanded  floor,  and  his  daughter  kept  it  exquisitely 
clean  and  neat,  and  made  him  beautiful  light  bread 
cakes.  The  time  came  when  he  told  me  that  he  could 
fish  no  more  :  he  had  got  about  five  miles  down  the 
river,  and  could  scarcely  get  back  from  exhaustion. 
He  afterwards  lived  with  a  daughter  somewhere  in 


CURIOUS  CHARACTERS  131 

the  East  of  London,  and  once  came  to  see  me,  and  I 
feasted  him  and  sent  him  back  with  his  daughter 
refreshed  and  happy. 

Another  characteristic  Yorkshireman,  whom  I  met 
at  Mr.  Harrison's,  of  Stubb  House,  was  a  wealthy 
yeoman  farmer,  Seymour  Deacon,  a  powerful  man, 
and  a  noted  breeder  of  bulls,  for  which  he  had  gained 
many  prizes,  from  whom  I  heard  the  following 
account  of  a  midnight  adventure.  He  had  suspected 
for  some  time  that  he  was  being  robbed  by  some 
workman  in  his  employ,  and  one  moonlight  night  he 
secreted  himself  in  a  barn,  where  he  fell  asleep. 
Very  early  he  heard  the  door  opened,  and  a  man 
stole  in  and  began  his  pilferings.  He  knew  the 
man — a  powerful  fellow.  Deacon  made  a  rush  at 
him,  and  they  closed,  and  tugged  and  tusselled  ; 
and  although  the  man  hit  him  fiercely,  knocking 
out  a  front  tooth,  yet  he  would  not  let  go  his  grip, 
and  both  fell  on  the  ground  ;  and  there  Deacon  held 
him  for  four  hours,  till  some  of  his  workmen,  entering 
the  barn,  secured  the  culprit  and  marched  him  off, 
and  Deacon  went  home  to  his  bed. 

Then  there  was  a  famous  poacher,  Paul  Arm- 
strong, who  '  operated  '  over  a  wide  district,  from 
Arkengarthdale  to  Bolton  Moors.  He  led  a  large 
band  of  miners,  forty  or  fifty  in  number,  who 
advanced  in  a  long  line,  so  that  not  a  grouse  that 
rose  in  front  escaped  being  shot,  and  they  were  too 
strong  for  the  keepers  to  attack.  If  any  of  them 
were  recognised  and  accused,  they  always  produced 
the  '  pit  book,'  proving  that  they  were  working  in. 


132  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

the  mine  at  the  time.  My  friend  George  Walker, 
of  Killingbeck  Hall,  told  me  he  once  saw  Paul  Arm- 
strong bathing  in  the  river,  and  he  never  saw  so  fine 
a  specimen  of  humanity,  tall  and  broad-shouldered, 
but  not  fat — indeed,  rather  thin,  but  very  muscular, 
with  neat,  fine  extremities  ;  '  a  perfect  Apollo,'  he 
called  him.  After  one  of  his  poaching  forays  he 
had  been  tracked  by  keepers  to  a  small  cottage 
on  the  Wharfe  near  Barden  Tower.  The  house  was 
surrounded  by  three  men,  two  of  them  under 
windows,  while  the  third  went  to  the  door.  An 
old  woman  opened  it  and  denied  all  knowledge  of 
any  such  person  ;  but  Paul,  who  had  thrown  himself 
down  on  a  rough  bed  to  get  a  little  sleep,  overheard 
the  conversation.  He  looked  out  of  window  and 
saw  beneath  it  the  sentinel  keeper  with  his  gun,  and 
a  second  further  on.  The  window  was  some  twelve 
or  fifteen  feet  from  the  ground,  but  he  took  off  his 
shoes  and  noiselessly  jumped  down,  alighting  on  the 
man's  shoulders,  and,  of  course,  upsetting  him  ;  and 
then  he  darted  down  to  the  river,  dashed  in,  and 
swam  across.  Unluckily  for  him,  the  river  was  roar- 
ing along  in  a  brown  flood,  and  he  was  carried  down 
some  way,  and  could  not  land  where  he  had  hoped 
to,  but  found  himself  between  precipitous,  wall-like 
rocks.  In  the  meantime  the  keepers  brought  their 
guns  to  bear  on  him,  and  swore  to  shoot  him  if  he 
did  not  return,  and  so  they  took  him  prisoner.  He 
was  taken  before  (I  believe)  Lord  Darlington,  who 
spoke  kindly  to  him  ;  and  on  the  principle  of  '  setting 
a  thief  to  catch  a  thief,'  he  invited  him  to  become 


A   CONVERTED  POACHER  133, 

one  of  his  keepers.  After  consideration  Paul  gave 
his  reply  :  that  he  would  take  no  office  except  as 
/W^-keeper,  and  to  have  the  entire  choice  of  his 
subordinates,  for  he  had  '  a  poor  opinion  of  some  of 
those  employed.'  This  was  agreed  to,  and  the 
terror  of  keepers  became  their  captain.  After  this 
there  was  no  poaching,  and  never  were  birds  so 
plentiful.  He  kept  the  post  for  some  years,  to  the 
entire  satisfaction  of  his  employer.  But  then  he  got 
restless,  missed  the  old  excitement,  and  at  last 
tendered  his  resignation.  Of  what  did  he  complain, 
asked  his  master.  Of  nothing  ;  he'd  only  thanks  to 
offer  for  the  kindness  he  had  received  ;  still,  he  could 
stay  no  longer,  but  he  promised  that  neither  he  nor 
any  of  his  men  should  poach  his  lordship's  game. 
And  so  he  left.  Pie  lived  for  some  years  afterwards, 
but  he  got  married  to  a  slattern,  and  opened  a  beer- 
shop  ;  got  fat  and  unwieldy,  so  that  those  who  had 
known  him  in  his  prime  could  not  have  recognised 
him.  I  never  saw  him,  but  this  account  was  given 
me  by  George  Walker,  a  keen  sportsman,  who  had 
known  Paul  through  his  whole  career,  and  he  was 
an  inhabitant  of  the  district  in  which  I  was  so  much 
interested.  The  end  of  Tom  Taylor  was  somewhat 
similar.  He  used  to  be  employed  as  a  sort  of 
'  generally  useful  man  '  in  the  shooting-parties  from 
Raby  Castle,  and  was  noted  for  being  too  free-and- 
easy,  omitting  all  titles  in  speaking,  and  drinking  a 
good  deal  of  wine.  At  last  he  was  placed  on  the 
staff  as  sergeant  of  militia,  a  permanent  employment, 
and  then  he  became,  I  was  told,  a  drunkard,  and 


134  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

was  dismissed.  I  never  heard  the  particulars  of  his 
later  life,  but  it  was  said  that  he  became  an  un- 
scrupulous vagabond,  very  different  from  the  man 
I  had  known  in  former  years. 

Barnard  Castle  and  its  neighbourhood  has  always 
possessed  a  great  fascination  for  me,  dating,  as  I 
have  said,  from  the  time  of  my  boyish  visit  with  my 
father,  and  renewed  on  this  second  visit  with  Red- 
grave. It  was  old-fashioned  and  primitive  in  its 
customs.  At  that  time  it  was  the  market-town  of 
the  district,  to  which  the  farmers  brought  their  pro- 
duce for  sale  :  cattle,  sheep,  rabbits,  cheese,  butter, 
eggs,  vegetables,  meat,  etc.  There  were  booths  all 
down  the  principal  street,  containing  scythes,  tools, 
crockery,  boots  and  shoes,  and  everything  required 
by  out-dwelling  farmers.  The  farmers  came  mostly 
in  pony-carts  or  on  horseback,  and  as  they  required 
stabling  during  market-hours,  there  were  very  many 
public-houses  in  which  to  regale,  and  this  they  did 
largely,  as  was  too  evident  towards  evening.  At 
certain  times  of  the  year  were  '  hiring-days '  for 
servants  and  farm- labourers.  These  were  congre- 
gated in  their  best  clothes  for  inspection  and  engage- 
ment for  periods  of  not  less  than  six  months. 

The  price  of  eggs  per  score  was  the  same 
as  for  a  pound  of  butter.  Booths  for  clothes,  old 
and  new,  were  supplied  by  the  tradesmen  of  the 
town.  The  air  was  pervaded  by  a  smell  of  hay, 
tempered  by  beer  and  tobacco  smoke.  Railroads 
have  made  a  great  change  in  the  place,  as  goods  are 
now  sent  to  other  markets,  where  there  is  a  larger 


BARNARD  CASTLE— THE  ETCHING  CLUB  135. 

demand  and  consumption  ;  so  that  the  market-day  is 
comparatively  quiet  and  many  of  the  public-houses 
are  shut  up.  I  was  told  that  in  earlier  days  the 
market  was  opened  by  trumpeters  at  the  town- 
hall,  when  a  proclamation  was  made  that  '  all  hal- 
berds, swords,  daggers,  pistols,'  etc.,  should  be 
deposited  in  the  town-hall  with  the  constables. 
Barnard  Castle  is  now  becoming  a  watering-place 
for  Durham,  Northumberland  and  Yorkshire,  and  a 
few  lodging-houses  are  springing  up.  Its  earlier 
busy  life  is  departed.  On  the  Yorkshire  side  of  the 
river  is  the  little  church  and  village  of  Startforth, 
where  my  wife's  father  had  a  small  property.  He 
used  to  tell  how  the  Rector  of  Startforth  was  a 
noted  character  and  bon-vivant.  In  return  for  hos- 
pitalities received  he  gave  annually  two  dinners  to 
his  friends.  At  the  first  were  present  his  higher- 
class  guests,  at  the  second  those  of  lower  rank. 

During  the  time  I  resided  in  Russell  Place,  the 
Etching  Club,  which  became  so  well  known  after- 
wards, was  founded.  It  was  at  first  only  a  small 
society.  We  met  at  each  other's  rooms  in  turn, 
once  a  month,  and  experimented  in  etching  for  an 
hour  or  two,  and  then  had  a  simple  supper,  limited 
to  bread  and  cheese.  This  arrangement  soon  broke 
down,  for  it  was  found  that  we  had  not  conveniences, 
such  as  proper  tables  and  lights,  and  we  were  apt 
to  spill  the  acid  and  spoil  table-covers,  etc.  I  think 
our  first  meeting  was  at  Townsend's  house.  He 
had  taken  his  degree  as  a  surgeon  ;  but  his  wife  had 
property,  and  he  was  devoting  himself  to  art.  He 


136  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

had  met  Fearnley,  and  proposed  him  as  a  club 
member.  The  others  were  Redgrave,  S tollhouse, 
Charles  Lewis  (engraver),  and  myself.  When  the 
supper  appeared,  of  bread  and  cheese  only,  Fearnley 
seemed  to  expect  something  better,  so  the  rule  of 
the  club  was  read  to  him. 

'  Ah,  so  ! '  said  he,  '  that  is  right ;  but  the  rule 
does  not  say  that  if  the  host  chooses  to  put  meat  also 
on  the  table  he  may  not  do  so.' 

This  caused  a  general  laugh  ;  but  the  host  was 
angry,  for  he  felt  himself  reproved  for  keeping  rules. 
Some  cold  meat  was  sent  up,  to  Fearnley's  great 
satisfaction  :  the  rule  was  dead,  and  thereafter  we 
always  had  a  meat  supper.  Subsequently  we  etched 
at  home,  and  brought  impressions  of  our  plates  to 
the  meetings,  where  they  were  freely  criticised. 
Afterwards  we  elected  T.  Webster,  Creswick,  J.  P. 
Knight,  Frederick  Tayler  and  F.  Stone,  and 
appointed  Sam  Redgrave  our  honorary  secretary. . 
After  a  time  we  made  a  selection  from  the  etchings 
and  published  them  privately  in  numbers  ;  and  later 
we  took  up  poems  to  illustrate,  beginning  with  Gold- 
smith's '  Deserted  Village,'  which  was  subscribed 
for  privately  ;  and  I  think,  after  paying  all  expenses 
of  binding  and  printing  a  handsome  volume,  we 
divided  upwards  of  ^200.  We  followed  with 
Shakespeare's  sonnets,  Milton's  '  L' Allegro '  and  '  II 
Penseroso,'  and  elected  from  time  to  time  fresh 
members  :  Samuel  Palmer,  of  the  Old  Water-Colour 
Society,  J.  C.  Hook,  Millais,  Holman  Hunt,  Sey- 
mour Haden,  Hodgson,  Ansdell,  Calderon,  Pettie, 


THE  ETCHING  CLUB  137 

O'Neill,  Heseltine.  Our  profits  were  never  very 
great,  although  I  have  received  as  much  as  £60  for 
one  etching.  The  great  attraction  consisted  in 
the  pleasant  meetings,  where  brotherly  kindness 
abounded,  and  where  pleasure  was  ballasted  by  a 
little  business  and  occasional  cheques.  At  one  time 
the  club  dined  at  the  King's  Arms,  Kensington, 
but  latterly  they  dined  at  each  other's  houses,  and 
business  was  done  afterwards. 

To  ascertain  the  relative  value  of  each  etching  a 
simple  plan  was  devised.  Each  etching  was  held 
up  in  turn  to  be  voted  for  ;  and  any  number,  from 
one  to  ten,  might  be  put  down  as  its  value  on  a 
piece  of  paper  by  each  member.  The  papers  were 
folded  up  and  put  into  a  hat,  and  then  read  out,  and 
the  numbers  taken  down  by  the  secretary,  who  after- 
wards made  out  a  statement  of  the  result,  and  each 
contributor  received  his  proportion  of  profits  accord- 
ingly. I  know  not  if  the  club  still  exists.  There 
have  been  many  losses  by  death  ;  some  members 
have  grown  old  or  cold — have  no  time  for  etching, 
but  like  dining  ;  eyes  fail  ;  attendances  get  irregular 
—in  fact,  I  fear  the  club,  like  some  of  its  early 
members,  is  moribund.  In  time,  nearly  all  in  the 
Etching  Club  became  members  of  the  Royal  Aca- 
demy ;  and  their  evening  meals  afford  a  fair  test  of 
their  growing  prosperity  :  from  the  modest  supper 
of  bread  and  cheese  in  lodgings  to  the  comfortable 
additions  of  cold  meats,  these  developing  into 
dinners  at  an  inn,  and,  lastly,  to  sumptuous  repasts 
in  good  private  houses,  and  even  palaces,  waited  on 


138  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

by  flunkies.  Once  a  year  we  had  our  outing  in  the 
country  :  took  long  walks,  or  rowed,  or  played,  like 
boys,  at  '  rounders,'  and  finished  with  a  good  dinner. 
I  think  that  on  the  whole  our  favourite  place  was 
the  inn  at  Maidenhead  Bridge,*  where  we  were 
well  known  and  liked,  and  where  there  was  a  field 
to  play  in !  Of  course,  this  little  account  of  the 
Etching  Club  relates  to  a  good  many  years,  so  that 
from  very  young  men  we  got  to  be  decidedly  old, 
but  yet  with  some  friskiness  left  in  us. 

I  think  that  after  my  return  from  Barnard  Castle 
I  must  have  finished  the  Leeds  altar-piece.  I 
exhibited  about  this  time  also  a  melodramatic  kind 
of  picture,  '  The  Condemned,'  a  nobleman  visited  in 
prison  by  a  monkish  confessor— I  fear  rather  a 
failure. 

During  this  winter  died  the  poor  young  doctor, 
James  Benning,  of  a  sudden  seizure  of  inflammation, 
I  believe.  It  was  a  terrible  blow  to  his  father,  for 
he  was  becoming  much  liked  and  trusted  by  patients. 
There  had  been  some  unpleasantness  about  money 
matters,  as  James  had  incurred  debts  while  in 
London.  His  father  asked  for  a  full  confession  of 
the  sum  total,  and  he  paid  it.  Unhappily  James 
had  not  liked  to  confess  the  whole  amount  of  his 
debts,  and  this  caused  friction  between  them  for 
some  time,  during  which  poor  James  died. 
Throughout  this  winter  and  spring  I  led  a  very 
lonely  life,  but  was  comforted  by  a  weekly  letter 
from  Charlotte.  But  she  also  was  unhappy  from 

*  Now  so  well  known  as  '  Skindle's.' 


LA  BELLE  MERE  139 


the  family  grief,  and  also  because  Mrs.  Benning 
ignored  our  engagement  ;  and  if  a  letter  arrived 
from  me  she  usually  left  the  room  in  dudgeon.  It 
was  a  sad  time  of  weeping  for  Charlotte.  The  old 
lady  would  not  assist  in  getting  the  trousseau, 
though  she  had  excellent  taste,  and  all  this  because 
she  was  offended  that  she  had  not  been  the  first 
to  be  consulted  ;  the  fact  being  that  there  had  been 
no  time  for  it,  as  the  denouement  developed  during 
the  two  weeks  of  her  absence,  so  that  she  could  not 
be  told  earlier.  She  used  to  tell  Charlotte  that  I 
was  a  gay  young  fellow  probably,  and  had  forgotten 
her  in  favour  of  some  other  dupe.  Poor,  proud 
woman,  she  bitterly  repented  it.  However,  '  good 
times  and  bad  times  and  all  times  get  over  ;'  and 
when  I  paid  a  spring  visit  for  a  week  the  old  lady 
was  civil  to  me.  But  we  were  too  happy  to  care 
much  about  her,  and  the  three  sisters  and  I  spent 
most  of  our  time  in  rambles  up  Greta  or  down 
Tees,  with  sandwiches  and  books  ;  and  the  old 
doctor  and  I  became  fast  friends.  The  youngest 
sister,  Lizzie,  was  just  coming  out,  a  brilliant 
humorist  and  sweet  singer,  and  she  kept  up 
Charlotte's  spirits,  although  the  trouble  caused  her 
to  get  quite  thin. 

At  last  came  August,  and  on  September  i  we 
were  to  be  married.  I  asked  Redgrave  to  be  my 
best  man,  and  we  took  the  mail  to  Barnard  Castle, 
to  stop  at  Greta  Bridge.  Two  gentlemen  were 
outside,  who  stopped  at  H  arrogate,  where  a  servant 
came  out  of  the  gate  and  took  their  luggage  ;  but 


140  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

they  took  my  portmanteau  instead  of  their  own. 
When  we  arrived  at  Greta  Bridge  I  discovered 
the  mistake  ;  the  trunk  handed  down  was  not  mine 
—it  had  the  name  '  Ewart '  on  it.  We  hoped  the 
owner  on  finding  his  mistake  would  send  mine  on 
by  next  night's  coach  ;  so  we  waited,  and  Redgrave 
kindly  promised  to  go  south  with  the  '  up  '  mail  if  it 
was  not  forwarded.  The  south-going  mail  arrived 
first,  so  we  jumped  up,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
we  heard  a  horn  blow,  and  saw  the  steaming  horses 
in  the  lamplight,  and  the  coach  waited  for  us.  Said 
our  coachman  : 

'  Have  you  brought  my  gentleman's  trunk  ?' 
'  Yes,'  said  the  other,  '  where's  my  gent's  trunk  ?' 
It  was  at  the  inn.     So  we  clambered  on  to  the 
north-going   coach  and  got  back   to  bed,   and    the 
gentleman  had  to  wait  another  day.     The  morning 
after    my    arrival   I   had    borrowed  a  horse    of   the 
doctor,  and  ridden   over  to  Barnard   Castle  to  tell 
of  the  loss  of  my  portmanteau,  containing  money, 
and  the  ring  !     Said  the  old  lady  to  Charlotte  : 

f  Now  you  see  what  a  careless  scapegrace  you 
have  pinned  your  faith  to  !' 

However,  there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  wait  in 
hope,  and  at  twelve  that  night  the  trunk  arrived  as  I 
have  said.  Who  should  be  at  the  inn  at  Greta 
Bridge  but  Creswick !  And  we  spent  the  day  in 
rambling  up  the  glen,  during  which  I  was  made 
the  ,butt  for  shafts  of  wit.  Burleigh  James  had 
kindly  offered  to  dress  me  in  his  black  coat  for  the 
wedding. 


MARRIAGE  141 


We  were  duly  married  on  September  i,  by  the 
Rev.  J.  Preston,  of  Warcop  Hall  (Mrs.  Benning's 
brother).  Mrs.  and  Miss  Preston  (a  pretty  girl) 
were  there,  and  the  sisters  acted  as  bridesmaids. 
A  contretemps  happened.  I  had  forgotten  to  bring 
the  ring  to  church,  and  we  had  to  wait  till  Redgrave 
kindly  unearthed  it  from  my  box  at  the  inn.  After 
this  things  went  smoothly,  but  of  course  the  old 
lady  again  took  up  her  parable  :  '  What  a  careless 
creature  !'  At  last  the  breakfast  was  over,  also  the 
speeches,  and  the  post-chaise  came  to  the  door ;  the 
bride  took  leave,  and  was  handed  in,  and  now 
occurred  a  scene.  The  stepmother  rushed  across 
the  pavement  to  the  carriage,  and  with  tears  hugged 
and  kissed  the  poor  bride,  and  exclaimed  : 
'  Oh,  you  poor  victim  !' 

At  last  I  was  permitted  to  get  in,  and  we  drove 
away  amid  acclamations.  As  soon  as  we  got  out  of 
the  town,  I  got  out  and  made  the  post-boy  dismount 
and  get  rid  of  his  bouquet  and  anything  that 
indicated  a  wedding,  and  we  drove  to  Darlington, 
sixteen  miles,  and  there  got  the  railway  to  Stockton  ; 
then  chaise  again  by  Stokesley  to  Helmsley,  in 
pouring  rain  and  darkness.  Here  we  found  a  com- 
fortable country  inn,  and  remained  a  fortnight,  I 
sketching,  and  Charlotte  reading  aloud  '  The  Vicar 
of  Wakeneld.'  Then  to  pay  my  dear  friends  the 
Atkinsons  a  visit  at  Little  Woodhouse,  where  we 
were  treated  like  their  own  children  ;  and  the  old 
servants,  who  had  known  me  long,  thought  us  'a 
very  nice  couple.'  After  a  few  days  there  we  took 


142  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

the  railway  to  London,  and  at  Euston  found  my 
friend  Sulivan's  carriage,  and  were  driven  to  his 
house  at  Ashford.  The  bride  was  terribly  nervous 
at  meeting  such  total  strangers,  and  would  fain  have 
shirked  appearing  at  dinner.  H'owever,  the  effort 
was  made,  and  Sulivan's  chivalrous  delicacy  and 
politeness  soon  put  her  at  ease. 

We  stayed  here  many  weeks  ;  for  accompanying 
Sulivan  one  day  to  attend  a  meeting  of  the  Staines 
Board  of  Guardians,  of  which  he  was  chairman,  I 
amused  myself  in  making  little  sketches  of  character 
of  the  members  and  applicants,  and  these  resulted  in 
my  determination  to  make  it  the  subject  of  a  largish 
picture.  I  sent  for  a  canvas  and  began  it  at  once. 
A  large  table  occupied  the  centre  of  the  room.  The 
various  guardians  sat  on  each  side,  the  chairman  at 
the  farther  end,  where  was  the  window.  At  the 
near  end  a  widow  with  two  children  was  seeking 
for  aid,  and  was  being  questioned  by  a  clergyman 
(Sulivan)  opposite.  The  fireplace  was  to  the  right, 
where  stood  a  jolly  country  squire  (Harrison,  of 
Stubb  House),  warming  his  back,  and  seated  near 
him  was  a  roue  captain  (Captain  Blathwaite) 
trimming  his  nails.  There  were  other  figures,  a 
deaf  farmer,  a  beadle,  etc.  I  painted  the  greater 
part  of  this  picture  at  Ashford,  in  what  used  to  be 
called  the  nursery.  I  sent  it  to  the  Royal  Academy 
the  spring  following,  where  it  was  placed  '  on  the 
line,'  and  seemed  to  be  considered  a  great  success, 
always  being  surrounded  by  an  interested  crowd. 
It  happened  that  there  was  a  fierce  political  struggle 


D    £ 

o 


O 

OQ 

UJ 

I 
I- 


POOR  LAW  GUARDIANS  143 

on  the  subject  of  the  Poor  Law  at  the  time  ;  and  in 
a  long  article  on  the  question  in  the  Times  news- 
paper my  picture  was  referred  to  and  minutely 
described,  as  exemplifying  the  Times  opinion. 
This  greatly  added  to  its  popularity,  and  I  received 
abundant  praise  and  many  compliments  ;  and  it 
helped  to  establish  my  growing  reputation.  But, 
alas  !  '  what  will  honour  do  for  a  man  ?'  At  the 
close  of  the  exhibition  it  came  home  unsold,  and  in 
the  following  spring  I  sent  it  to  the  British  Institu- 
tion, with  the  same  result.  '  Abundant  praise,  but 
no  solid  pudding.'  But  I  have  anticipated. 

When  at  last  we  returned  to  town,  I  took  a  first- 
floor,  furnished,  in  Lisson  Grove,  just  opposite  my 
studio,  which  was  in  a  side  street,  and  there  for  a 
time  we  settled  ;  for  the  house  I  was  building  at 
Kensington  was  only  half  finished.  We  were  very 
happy,  frequently  walking  to  Kensington  across  the 
park  to  inspect  the  rising  edifice,  and  discussing  the 
use  the  various  rooms  were  to  be  put  to.  While  at 
Lisson  Grove  I  received  a  visit  from  Lord  Lans- 
downe,  who  had  purchased  a  small  picture  of  mine, 
of  a  blind  old  woman  and  girl  entering  the  Church 
of  St.  Mark  at  Venice,  and  touching  the  holy  water  ; 
and  he  now  commissioned  me  to  paint  a  replica  of 
Mr.  Beckford's  '  Mother  and  Child.'  This  I  did, 
with  variations.  We  moved  to  Kensington  in  1841, 
and  I  believe  the  first  pictures  I  painted  there  were 
two  commissions  given  me  by  the  brothers  John 
and  William  Gott,  of  Leeds — I  dare  say  in  recognition 
of  my  presentation  altar-piece.  That  for  John  Gott 


144  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

was  a  group,  a  female  and  children  seated  round  a 
table,  at  the  end  of  which  sat  a  venerable  old  man 
reading  'the  Book';  three-quarter  length  figures 
the  size  of  life.  The  other,  for  William  Gott,  was 
the  '  Cottar's  Saturday  Night.'  Interior,  evening 
meal,  Jenny  letting  in  her  lover  : 

'  But,  hark  !  a  rap  comes  gently  to  the  door. 
Jenny,  wha  kens  the  meanin'  o'  the  same, 
Tells  how  a  neighbour  lad  cam  o'er  the  moor 
To  do  some  errands  and  convoy  her  hame.' 

The  cottar,  with  his  child  on  his  knee,  two  laugh- 
ing brothers,  and  the  mother  preparing  the  food, 
completed  the  group.  These  two  were  both  exhi- 
bited at  the  Royal  Academy.  The  latter  was  placed 
low  down  under  a  landscape  in  the  centre  of  the 
great  room,  where  it  was  well  seen  ;  but  friends 
complained  to  me  that  they  had  broken  their  backs 
stooping  to  see  it.  This  picture  descended  to  the 
Rev.  J.  Gott,  late  Vicar  of  Leeds,""  and  son  of 
William,  and  I  believe  it  is  highly  esteemed  by  him. 
Shortly  after  our  settlement  at  Kensington  two 
gentlemen  called :  one  of  them  was  Mr.  William 
Gott,  and  he  introduced  his  brother-in-law,  Mr. 
Ewart,  M.P.  The  latter  asked  to  be  introduced  to 
my  wife,  and  when  she  came  into  the  room  he  said 
that  he  had  '  come  to  apologize.' 

'  For  what  ?'  said  she. 

'  Because  at  a  very  interesting  period  I  was  so 
careless  as  to  detain  your  husband's  portmanteau, 
containing  the  ring  and  all  his  money,'  he  replied. 

*  Now  Bishop  of  Truro. 


THE  BRITISH  PUBLIC  145 

It  seemed  that  he  had  heard  of  the  accident  from 
William  Gott,  who  received  it  from  me,  I  not  know- 
ing the  connection  between  them. 

On  the  2ist  of  August,  1841,  my  eldest  son  was 
born.  The  non-pecuniary  success  of  the  picture  of 
the  '  Board  of  Guardians  '  was  a  great  blow  to  me, 
and  entirely  shook  my  confidence  in  the  taste  of  the 
British  public.  That  a  most  successful  work,  written 
about  in  the  papers  and  admired  by  crowds,  should 
be  allowed  to  come  home  unsold  was  a  new  experi- 
ence to  me.  I  felt  that  I  had  done  my  best  with  a 
highly  dramatic  subject,  and  that,  with  the  prospect 
of  an  increasing  family,  it  would  be  risky  to  spend 
time  and  money  which  might  not  be  repaid  with 
interest.  Why  go  on  repeating  such  pictures  ?  If 
the  picture  had  been  badly  painted  or  uninteresting 
in  subject,  I  might  hope  to  do  better  ;  but  this  was 
not  the  case.  One  day  my  wife  and  I  were  garden- 
ing, when  our  maid  brought  a  gentleman's  card 
—Mr.  Cousins.  He  apologized  for  what  he  feared 
was  impudence  on  his  part ;  but  he  was  only  a  clerk 
in  some  office,  and  he  ventured  to  say  that,  having 
heard  that  I  had  not  sold  the  '  Board  of  Guardians,' 
he  hoped  I  would  pardon  him  if  he  made  an  offer 
for  it,  not  according  to  the  merits  of  the  picture, 
but  to  his  poverty.  I  parted  with  the  picture  to 
him  for  ^105,  £100  of  which  was  an  Art  Union 
prize.  For  aught  I  know  he  has  the  picture  still. 


10 


[  146] 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    FRESCO-PAINTING    MOVEMENT. 

ABOUT  this  time  the  Royal  Commission  on  the  Fine 
Arts  was  instituted,  under  the  presidentship  of  the 
Prince  Consort,  and  with  Sir  Charles  Eastlake  as 
secretary,  with  the  object  of  inquiring  whether 
advantage  might  be  taken  of  the  building  of  the  new 
Houses  of  Parliament  to  promote  the  arts  of  paint- 
ing and  sculpture  in  their  decoration  ;  and  one  of 
its  first  acts  was  to  publish  an  invitation  to  painters 
and  sculptors  to  compete  for  employment.  They 
offered  three  prizes  of  ^300  each,  three  of  ^200, 
and  five  (or  more  ?)  of  ^100  each,  for  the  best 
cartoons  of  historical  subjects  ;  the  figures  to  be  not 
less  than  life-size,  and  the  drawings  to  be  exhibited 
publicly  in  Westminster  Hall. 

The  effect  of  this  appeal  was  electrical,  and  aroused 
an  enthusiastic  response.  Having  myself  no  com- 
missions on  hand,  and  the  picture  of  the  '  Board  of 
Guardians '  not  having  proved  a  pecuniary  success, 
I  thought  that  this  appeal  might  open  a  new  field  of 
employment  for  me,  in  the  direction  of  a  nobler  kind 
of  art,  and  I  determined  •  to  become  a  competitor. 


WESTMINSTER  HALL  CARTOONS  147 

Sitting  one  day  in  my  studio,  a  composition  occurred 
to  me,  of  which  I  at  once  made  a  slight  sketch.  The 
subject  was  'An  Early  Trial  by  Jury,'  and  I  scarcely 
altered  a  line  from  this  first  scrawl.  In  order  to  be 
secure  of  a  model,  I  engaged  a  guardsman*  to  come 
to  me  three  or  four  hours  a  day,  and  he  got  leave  to 
be  on  furlough  for  a  month.  During  the  rest  of 
each  day  he  sat  to  two  other  competitors — Towns- 
end  and  Horsley.  It  is  amazing  to  think  how  im- 
provident these  men  frequently  are  ;  for  although 
he  earned  about  I2S.  a  day,  at  the  end  of  the 
month  he  had  no  money  left,  and  had  to  borrow 
to  enable  him  to  go  to  his  native  parish.  After 
sitting  as  a  model  all  day,  he  spent  a  great  part  of 
the  night  in  card-playing  and  'standing  treat.' 

Each  of  the  works  sent  in  competition  was  marked 
with  a  motto  or  sign,  and  accompanied  by  a  sealed 
letter  with  a  similar  mark,  containing  the  artist's 
name,  which  was  only  opened  after  the  decisions 
were  arrived  at.  The.  judges  were  :  Rogers  the 
poet,  Lord  Lansdowne,  and  Etty  the  painter. 

Having  despatched  my  effort,  and  wanting  rest, 
I  accepted  an  invitation  to  visit  Sulivan  in  Ireland 
for  some  salmon-fishing  in  the  Blackwater  at  Lis- 
more.  I  took  a  steamer  from  Bristol  to  Waterford, 
and  then  on  by  coach  to  Lismore.  I  got  the  box- 
seat  ;  and  sitting  there  before  starting,  I  found  my- 
self the  centre  of  a  crowd  of  such  beggars  as  I  had 
not  seen  even  at  Naples,  and  their  begging  and 
wheedling  were  most  amusing.  If  I  moved  my 

*  Life  guardsman  (?) 


148  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

hand — '  Ah,  look  !  The  gentleman's  going  to  put 
his  hand  in  his  pocket !'  '  He's  a  charitable  gentle- 
man, sure !  and  he's  got  a  feeling  heart  for  the  poor  ! 
God  bless  him !'  etc.,  etc.  And  if  the  very  poor 
were  so  eager,  not  less  so  were  the  young  squireens 
in  paying  attention  to  Eugenie  Sulivan,  who,  they 
guessed,  had  a  nice  fortune,  and  who  was  persecuted 
in  consequence. 

I  must  not  dwell  upon  my  Irish  experiences  ;  but 
I  may  say  that  I  liked  the  real  natives  far  better 
than  the  Anglo-Irish,  who  were  overbearing  and 
arrogant,  and  treated  them  like  slaves.  It  was  a 
sad  sight  to  see  the  cathedral  at  Lismore  occupied 
on  Sunday  by  two  or  three  dozen  people  only  in  its 
vast  space,  ministered  to  by  three  or  four  parsons  ; 
while  outside  the  churchyard  was  crowded  with 
natives  visiting  their  relations'  tombs,  and  quietly 
gazing  on  the  '  gentlefolks '  making  their  visiting 
arrangements  for  the  coming  week  and  driving 
away  in  their  jaunting  cars.  The  natives  seemed 
genial,  kind  and  witty.  Sulivan  one  day  volunteered 
to  carry  me  on  his  back  across  a  tributary  of  the 
Blackwater,  rather  a  rapid  stream,  about  three  or 
four  feet  deep  in  places.  His  foot  slipped,  and  his 
wading  boot  tripped  him  up,  and  he  fell  backwards, 
I  being  undermost.  Some  Irish  women,  washing, 
had  joked  and  screamed  at  the  fun,  but  when  we 
fell  their  mirth  changed  into  lamentations.  '  Och 
sure !'  and  they  rushed  into  the  water  to  rescue 
hats  and  rod  that  were  floating  down  the  current, 
and  they  tried  to  rub  us  dry  with  their  aprons. 


FISHING  IN  IRELAND  149 

One  morning  early  I  hooked  a  fish.  I  supposed 
myself  quite  alone,  when  I  heard  a  voice  out  of  the 
mist,  which  was  thick,  on  the  opposite  bank. 

'  Well  done  then,  and  now  you  can  pay  your 
footing.' 

He  was  a  watcher,  and  had  been  observing  all 
my  movements  as  he  lay  in  the  long  grass.  I  threw 
some  silver  across/  and  then  I  heard  his  cheery 
4  Thank  yer  honour,  long  life  to  ye !' 

As  Sulivan  and  I  sat  one  morning  making  salmon- 
flies,  the  postman  arrived,  and  a  large  envelope  was 
given  to  me  with  the  royal  arms  on  the  seal. 

'  Hallo !'  said  Sulivan,  '  news,  good  news,  from 
the  Royal  Commission.' 

And  so  it  was.  I  was  informed  that  I  had  been 
adjudged  one  of  the  three  first  prizes  0^300.  (The 
Commission  were  not  asked  to  distinguish  the  rela- 
tive merits.)  Sulivan  jumped  about  and  called  for 
his  wife  and  daughter,  and  all  hastily  congratulated 
me  ;  and  then  Sulivan  said  grumblingly  : 

'  Alas  !  you  must  go,  hang  it  all !' 

So  I  got  driven  to  Dublin,  and  took  steamer  to 
England.  Here  I  was  presented  to  a  daughter, 
Emily,  born  July  i,  1843. 

The  Cartoon  Exhibition,  now  forgotten,  made  a 
prodigious  sensation.  All  England  went  to  see  it. 
All  the  omnibuses  were  covered  with  placards 
advertising  it.  There  was  always  a  dense  moving 
multitude.  Reputations  were  made  and  wrecked. 
Poor  R.  B.  Haydon  had  sent  two  designs,  which  I 
thought  very  striking  ;  but  he  was  unsuccessful.  He 


150  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

was  surrounded  by  a  listening  group  of  disciples, 
pointing  out  merits.  I  had  never  seen  him  before. 
It  must  have  been  a  cruel  blow  to  him  ;  for  half  his 
life  he  had  been  writing  up  the  claims  of  history 
painters,  and  when  the  time  came  he  was  '  nowhere.' 
The  '  brothers  Foggo '  were  equally  unfortunate. 
My  colleagues  were  Watts,  with  a  noble  design  of 
'  Caractacus,'  and  E.  Armitage,  with  the  '  Landing  of 
Julius  Csesar  in  Britain,'  excellent,  and  vigorous  in 
action.  There  was  a  second  competition — in  oil- 
painting  ;  but  to  this  I  did  not  contribute,  as  I  set 
to  work  at  once  to  learn  and  practise  the  art  of 
fresco-painting.  I  contributed  a  '  Jacob  and  Rachel,' 
and  this,  with  the  previous  cartoon,  caused  my  per- 
manent employment  in  the  new  palace  at  West- 
minster; 

I  ought  to  mention  that  at  this  time*  I  thought  it 
advisable  to  revisit  Italy,  in  order  to  examine 
critically  the  workmanship  of  Italian  frescoes,  and 
to  ascertain  their  '  dodges '  for  concealing  the  joints 
between  each  day's  painting.  Horsley  accompanied 
me,  and  we  spent  about  three  months,  visiting 
Florence,  Lucca,  Padua,  etc.,  and  making  many 
studies  from  Giotto,  Andrea  del  Sarto,  and  other 
frescanti.  We  joined  three  Englishmen,  G.  B. 
Maule,  a  barrister,  Cyril  Page,  a  priest  at  West- 
minster, and  Chorley,  the  musical  critic  and  writer  ; 
and  we  travelled  partly  with  them  across  the 
Apennines.  I  met  Dyce  on  the  same  errand  at 
Florence.  Mr.  Chorley  was  rather  bumptious.  He 

0  Rather  later,  1849. 


ITALY  REVISITED— MUNICH  151 

had  red  hair  and  eyelashes,  a  red  necktie,  and 
reddish  leather  boots  ;  and  Charles  Landseer  said, 
'  Everything  about  Chorley  was  red  but  his  books' 
Maule  was,  unfortunately,  travelling  in  a  diligence 
on  the  east  coast  of  Spain  the  following  year,  and  a 
mountain  torrent  overwhelmed  it,  and  all  the  horses 
and  passengers  were  washed  over  the  cliff  into 
the  sea  beneath,  and  were  drowned.  He  was  a 
great  loss  to  his  country,  and  would  have  attained 
the  highest  position  in  the  law.  He  took  a  double 
first  at  Oxford,  and  was  the  most  thoroughly  exact 
man  I  ever  knew.  He  had  wished  me  to  accom- 
pany him  in  his  Spanish  tour. 

[The  following  account  of  a  visit  to  Munich,  on  a 
separate  sheet,  the  date  of  the  year  not  being  given, 
probably  belongs  to  this  tour : 

'  Munich,  Monday,  September  i .  -  -  Visited  a 
modern  collection  of  pictures  exhibited  in  a  building 
erected  for  the  purpose  of  showing  works  of  genius 
and  industry.  This  was  in  consequence  of  an  invi- 
tation extending  to  the  artists  of  all  nations.  Among 
them  were  many  works  of  merit  in  the  lower  depart- 
ments of  art,  particularly  some  by  the  Dutch  painters, 
who  seem  to  inherit  a  portion  of  their  ancestors'  love 
of  finish  and  execution.  Among  the  most  prominent 
pictures  were  two  portraits  by  Kaulbach  in  oil ;  a 
capital  small  picture  by  Beveren,  of  a  sick  girl  visited 
by  a  monk  confessor — tone  and  execution  excellent ; 
Biard,  a  powerful  picture  of  Jane  Shore  fainting  at 
the  bottom  of  some  steps  ;  a  night  scene,  people 
looking  out  of  a  doorway  with  a  light,  guards  look- 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


ing  on  ;  also  a  very  clever  picture  of  a  scene,  in 
Lapland  among  icebergs  :  two  Esquimaux  are  love- 
making  in  their  canoes.  Coignet,  of  Paris,  has  a 
clever  picture  of  the  Dutch  coast.  Geyer,  of  Augs- 
burg, a  clever  picture  of  a  concilium  medicum,  the 
doctors  of  different  theories  in  hot  dispute,  the  poor 
patient,  in  a  back  room,  being  distracted  the  while 
with  their  noise.  Hess  (Peter),  of  Munich,  a  retreat 
from  Moscow  ;  large  figures,  numerous,  and  strong 
expression  and  incidents  of  horror.  Hove,  of 
Amsterdam,  a  gipsy  party  brought  before  a  magis- 
trate. Schendel  (Holland),  a  good  night-market 
scene.  Steinbrud  (Dusseldorf),  an  '  Invitation  to 
the  Marriage  Feast  '  (St.  Luke  xiv.).  Among 
the  sculptures,  the  best  was  a  group  of  a  centaur 
teaching  a  youth  —  excellent  composition. 

'  In  the  afternoon  visited  Hess,  and  found  him  at 
work  in  the  Basilica  of  St.  Boniface  —  the  best 
modern  frescoes  I  have  yet  seen.  Subjects  :  the 
life  of  the  saint,  a  series  of  twenty-two  designs, 
which  have  occupied  him  twenty-seven  months  in 
the  painting  only,  being  the  summers  of  five  years, 
the  designs  occupying  the  winter  time.  Some  of 
them  are  very  interesting.  The  first,  where  the 
future  saint,  a  boy,  is  leaving  home  on  his  father's 
death,  is  very  good.  He  then  goes  to  a  convent  ; 
takes  the  vows  ;  becomes  a  missionary  ;  is  presented 
:  to  the  Pope  ;  preaches  to  the  savage  islanders  ;  is 
made  a  Bishop,  etc.,  etc.  ;  is  finally  murdered,  and 
buried. 

'Between  the  principal  subjects  are  smaller  designs 


HESS  OF  MUNICH  153 

in  brown  chiaroscuro,  with  blue  in  the  sky — simple 
and  beautiful. 

'Had a  long  conversation  on  the  subject  of  frescoes 
with  the  Professor  Hess.  He  is  sure  fresco  is  alone 
adapted  for  decoration  of  buildings  ;  that  the  room 
or  church  to  be  decorated  should  be  by  one  head 
and  hand  only,  in  order  to  preserve  unity  ;  makes 
generally  only  small  designs  or  cartoons,  figures 
about  one  foot  high.  These  are  afterwards  enlarged 
by  his  pupils,  and  he  then  goes  over  the  lines 
previously  to  painting  on  the  walls,  and  works  on 
the  part  to  be  painted  mostly  from  his  own  head, 
without  reference  to  drawings.  Much  depends  on 
the  wall  being  in  the  proper  state.  In  the  early 
spring  it  is"  not  dry  enough,  and  he  usually  begins 
before  the  middle  of  May,  after  the  warm  air  has 
been  admitted,  and  finishes  at  the  end  of  September. 

'  With  regard  to  colours,  his  palette  is  composed 
almost  entirely  of  earths.  His  blue  is  not  French 
ultramarine,  but  cobalt  only  ;  his  strong  red  is  col- 
cotha,  or  burnt  vitriol.  This  is  boiled  some  time 
on  a  fire  till  it  becomes  a  white  powder  on  the  top  ; 
this  is  then  taken  out  and  put  into  a  crucible  well 
covered  with  clay,  and  burnt  for  seven  hours.  His 
violets  are  made  of  two  native  Bavarian  earths  got 
of  some  dealer  here.  He  promised  us  to  get  some 
for  us.  His  bright  green  is  chrome  green.  He 
does  not  consider  that  vermilion  stands,  as  the  air 
(not  the  lime)  discolours  it ;  but  he  has  occasionally 
used  it  mixed  with  lime.  His  black  is  burnt  Cologne 
earth  ;  his  shadow  of  yellow,  raw  sienna.  He  has  a 


154  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

man  constantly  at  work  to  grind  and  mix  his  tints, 
prepare  his  colours,  and  lay  the  ground,  etc.  Is 
sure  that  Michel  Angelo  must  have  had  some  means 
of  keeping  the  plaster  wet,  as  parts  are  finished  and 
modelled  that  would  have  required  a  pair  of  hands 
a  day  only  to  cover.  He  never  retouches.  Thinks 
the  Italian  frescoes  would  not  stand  out  of  Italy,  as 
they  are  much  worked  on  in  tempera. 

'  Tuesday,  September  2. — Again  a  visit  to  Hess 
about  half-past  nine.  He  had  already  been  some 
time  at  work,  and  had  laid  in  the  head  of  a  monk, 
his  day's  work.  It  was  done  with  the  positive  flesh- 
colour,  lime  being  mixed  with  all  his  tints.  He  was 
using  small  brushes,  and  tells  me  that  he  uses  small 
ones  even  to  paint  the  large  draperies.  He  pays 
the  greatest  attention  to  the  mixing  of  his  tints, 
and  contrives  to  make  every  face,  etc.,  be  varied  in 
colour  from  its  neighbour,  partaking,  more  or  less, 
of  the  brown,  fair,  rosy  or  sallow  ;  and  also,  in  his 
light  draperies,  he  varies  them  continually.  No  two 
whites  are  alike,  and  this  produces  great  distinct- 
ness, without  destroying  breadth.  Spoke  about  the 
fresco  by  Gigenbower  (?)  at  Gwydyr  House.  It  is 
not  pure  fresco.  He  is  known  to  use  milk  with  his 
colours,  and  also  paints  on  the  wet  plaster  with  oil 
of  turpentine  in  his  colours.  He  also  uses  lake 
mixed  with  oil,  etc.,  and  has  various  other  devices. 
Professor  Hess  thinks  that  they  will  all  be  soon 
faded.  He  gave  me  a  specimen  of  his  vitriolo  rosso ; 
his  other  two  reds  for  the  violet  draperies  he  could 
not  procure  me,  as  he  gets  a  pound  or  two  by  favour 


PICTURES  AT  MUNICH  155 

from  a  person  who  found  some  accidentally  and 
kept  a  tubful.  It  is  a  natural  earth,  and  he  may 
be  able  to  send  some. 

'  The  old  pictures  in  the  Pinacoteca  are  nearly  all 
destroyed,  having  been  rubbed  down  and  repainted. 
The  Titian  glazings  are  nearly  all  rubbed  off,  and 
the  original  tone  underneath  is  now  visible.  For 
the  deep  lake  draperies  there  is  a  positive  red  earth  ; 
for  the  rich  brown-greens,  raw  greenish  whites ; 
flesh  is  all  pale  in  the  lights,  the  upper  glazing  tints 
being  generally  left  in  the  shadows.  There  is 
scarcely  a  perfect  picture  left. 

'  The  Rubens  sketches  have  been  rubbed  down, 
or  washed  with  some  strong  medium,  and  the  brown 
markings-out  of  the  forms  washed  off,  so  that  it 
would  seem  that  they  had  been  done  in  water-colour, 
the  oil  colour  alone  remaining.  Likewise  some 
pictures  by  Paul  Veronese  have  nothing  but  raw 
colours  left  in  the  lights,  the  deep  glazings  being 
untouched  in  parts,  so  that  the  pictures  are  entirely 
out  of  harmony,  and  destroyed,  while  modern  re- 
paintings  of  neat  extremities,  dark  lines  round  eye- 
lids, etc.,  make  the  matter  still  worse  ! 

'  Visited  the  modern  Gothic  church  over  the 
bridge.  The  interior  beautiful  ;  the  windows  very 
rich,  of  modern  stained  glass  of  Munich.  This 
process  is  kept  secret  by  command  of  the  king,  he 
having  spent  large  sums  of  money  in  investigating 
the  manner  of  doing  it.  Leave  has  been  asked  by 
the  kings  of  France  and  of  Prussia,  and  refused, 
although  the  works  are  shown  ;  but  they  will  not 


156  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

allow  anyone  to  enter  as  a  student.  Met  here  at 
dinners,  etc.,  Mr.  Ford  and  son.  I  believe  he  is 
the  author  of  the  ''  Handbook  of  Spain,"  which 
created  such  a  sensation  in  town.  A  most  intelli- 
gent, spirited  man.  He  had  been  fishing  in  the 
Traun,  near  Lambach,  not  far  from  Linz,  and  about 
eleven  hours  from  Nuremburg.] 

William  Dyce  was  the  first  to  break  the  ice  in 
fresco-painting.  He  executed  the  centre  fresco  in 
the  House  of  Lords,  over  the  throne.  It  was  done 
under  fearful  disadvantages,  for  the  room  was  only 
half  finished,  and  he  was  subjected  to  all  the  noises 
inseparable  from  building  ;  hundreds  of  hammers 
were  at  work  on  the  roof  overhead  ;  below,  the 
carpenters'  ceaseless  din — bang  !  bang  ! — and  the 
dust  was  stifling  ;  but  in  spite  of  it  all,  Dyce,  with 
marvellous  pluck,  went  steadily  on,  although  '  em- 
ployed in  a  kind  of  work  which  requires  a  man's 
utmost  cool  judgment.  On  the  success  or  failure  of 
this  first  experiment  the  future  of  fresco-painting 
depended.  At  length  it  was  finished  ;  and  the  Com- 
missioners, with  Prince  Albert,  met  to  view  it.  It 
was  considered  a  great  success,  and  Dyce  well  de- 
served all  the  praise  he  received. 

I  had  been  commissioned,  with  others,  to  execute 
a  trial  fresco  on  a  wall  in  the  Upper  Waiting  Hall  ; 
but  before  this  was  begun  I  was  requested  to  paint  a 
fresco  of  '  Edward  the  Third  conferring  the  Order  of 
Knighthood  of  the  Garter  on  his  Son  the  Black 
Prince,'  at  the  throne  end  of  the  House  of  Lords, 

• 

in    line   with    Dyce's   centre   of    the    '  Baptism    of 


FRESCO  PAINTING  157 

Ethelbert.'  Maclise  had  assigned  to  him  at  the 
other  end  the  subject  of  '  Chivalry/  and  Horsley 
that  of  '  Religion '  in  the  middle  space  opposite 
Dyce.  I  was  engaged  for  many  years  in  fresco- 
painting  ;  the  winters  being  occupied  at  home  in 
preparing  the  studies  and  cartoons,  and  the  summers 
in  executing  them,  in  fresco,  on  the  walls  ;  in  conse- 
quence of  which  I  had  little  time  left  for  oil-painting, 
and  what  I  did  execute  consisted  mostly  of  small 
pictures  of  a  domestic  character,  done  from  my  own 
children,  so  that  Mr.  Tom  Taylor  in  his  criticisms 
dubbed  me  '  Poet- Laureate  of  the  Nursery.' 

I  was  elected  Associate  of  the  Royal  Academy  in 
November,  1843.  After  finishing  the  fresco  of 
'  Edward  III./  etc.,  I  painted  one  of  the  spaces  in 
what  was  called  the  '  Poets'  Hall '  (Upper  Waiting 
Hall),  to  illustrate  Chaucer,  the  subject  being  'The 
Trial  of  Griselda's  Obedience/  Other  artists  also 
had  spaces  assigned  to  them.  Herbert  painted  a 
beautiful  fresco  from  Shakespeare  of  '  Lear  and 
Cordelia';  Watts  a  subject  from  Spenser;  Horsley 
illustrated  Milton  ;  Tenniel,  Dryden  ;  Armitage,  two, 
Pope  and  Scott.  I  also  painted,  in  the  same  corner 
as  the  Chaucer  subject,  a  fresco  of  '  The  Death  of 
Lara/  from  Byron.  All  the  frescoes  in  this  hall  are 
now  wrecks,  although  scrupulously  free  from  re- 
touchings in  distemper.  When  the  Prince  Consort 
came  to  inspect  them,  he  asked  me,  '  if  I  would  allow 
those  I  had  done  to  be  sponged/  I  willingly 
assented,  and  had  them  sopped  and  sponged  with 
water,  without  a  trace  of  colour  being  removed.  As 


i $8  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

the  theory  was  that  lime  walls  were  for  ever  harden- 
ing, it  was  concluded  that  these  works  were  im- 
perishable. Alas  !  after  about  four  years,  some  of 
the  colours  began  to  blister  ;  and  then  the  blister 
burst,  and  the  colour  came  off  in  powder.  This 
was  especially  the  case  with  earthy  colours,  such  as 
ochres  of  all  sorts  ;  and  this  notwithstanding  that 
all  the  writers  on  fresco  assured  us  that  they  were 
the  safest  of  all  colours.  Although  they  were  sealed 
up  by  a  film  of  carbonate  of  lime  (flint,  in  short),  yet 
our  climate  is  so  damp  that  in  changeable  weather 
the  wet  ran  down  the  surface  in  streams.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  the  frescoes  were  painted  on  lime  and 
plaster  spread  on  a  framework  of  laths,  and  there 
was  a  space  at  the  back,  of  some  inches,  to  separate 
them  from  the  outer  wall  of  stone  ;  and  in  this  space 
the  damp  accumulated,  and  had  no  exit  or  ventila- 
tion. Besides  injury  caused  by  damp  there  came  a 
deposit  of  London  dirt  on  the  surface,  of  a  yellow- 
brown  colour,  which  obscured  the  freshness  of  the 
colours.  Prince  Albert  tried  rubbing  with  stale 
bread  to  remove  this,  but  all  proved  unavailing. 
The  pictures  are  destroyed,  owing  to  the  constant 
change  of  temperature  and  the  filth  of  the  London 
climate.  The  full  effects  of  these  deleterious  in- 
fluences were  not  discovered  until  after  some  years  ; 
and  in  the  meanwhile  other  frescoes  were  painted 
in  various  parts  of  the  building,  all  of  which  have 
suffered  in  a  less  degree,  but  some  much  more  than 
others.  My  fresco  of 'Judge  Gascoigne  and  Prince 
Henry,'  in  the  House  of  Lords,  finished  in  1849,  is 


PARTRIDGE  SHOOTING  159 

much  less  injured  than  '  Edward  III.'  on  the  same 
wall,  and  I  believe  that  I  protected  it,  when  finished, 
with  a  thin  covering  of  size. 

In  1841,  my  wife  being  delicate,  we  went  on  a 
visit  to  Mr.  Bacon,  at  Cossey,  Norfolk,  whose 
daughter,  Miss  Rose  Bacon  (afterwards  Mrs.  Red- 
grave), had  stayed  with  us  at  the  time  of  my  eldest 
son's  birth.  Mr.  Bacon  was  proprietor  and  editor 
of  a  Norwich  paper,  a  very  intellectual  man,  a  keen 
politician,  and  also  a  good  sportsman.  With  him  I 
was  initiated  into  the  sport  of  partridge-shooting  ; 
and  many  pleasant  tramps  we  had  with  dog  and 
guns  through  the  stubble  and  turnips,  diversified 
with  political  discussions  and  small  luncheons  of  a 
biscuit  each  and  two  small  apples  ;  more,  my  host 
said,  would  spoil  our  sight  in  shooting.  We  had 
excellent  music  in  the  evenings,  Mrs.  Barwell 
especially,  a  married  daughter,  having  a  grand 
voice  and  perfect  execution.  Her  rendering  of 
Moore's  '  By  Bendemere's  Stream '  I  shall  never 
forget.  When  I  was  married  at  Barnard  Castle 

o 

(I  might  have  mentioned  sooner),  the  clergyman 
there  was  quite  a  '  character,'  a  Mr.  Davidson.  He 
was  respected,  but  his  oddities  were  laughed  at.  I 
was  warned  not  to  appear  in  church  after  my 
wedding,  or  I  should  have  to  listen  to  a  sermon 
on  '  Matrimony,'  which  was  always  addressed  to 
married  couples.  I  was  once  present,  however,  on 
another  occasion,  and  did  hear  it,  though  not  meant 
for  us.  It  was  very  picturesque,  and  described  in 
detail  the  wifely  duties,  down  to  her  '  mending  little 


i6o  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Jackie's  breeches,'  the  colour  of  the  patch  being  of 
no  importance  ! 

One  day  a  parishioner  asked  him  to  sign  a  law- 
paper  to  certify  that  he  was  alive  on  a  certain  day. 
Mr.  Davidson  said  he  could  not  do  it,  as  he  had  not 
seen  him  on  that  day. 

Parishioner  :  '  But,  sir,  you  see  me  now.' 

Mr.  Davidson  :  '  I  can  sign  the  paper  that  you 
are  alive  now,  certainly  ;  but  as  I  did  not  see  you  on 
that  date,  I  am  not  in  a  condition  to  make  a  state- 
ment on  the  subject.' 

His  successor,  Canon  Dugard,  was  a  genial,  kind, 
burly  man  ;  and  we  became  cronies  in  fishing  excur- 
sions in  the  Tees  and  Greta.  Once  he  drove  me 
down  to  Winston  Bridge,  on  the  Tees.  We  were 
to  fish,  and  go  in  to  the  parsonage  to  an  early 
dinner.  I  had  fair  sport.  Mr.  Dugard  elected  to 
fish  on  the  opposite  bank  to  gain  the  wind.  He 
waded  across.  I  heard  a  loud  splash  :  he  had  fallen 
into  a  hole,  and  came  back  dripping  ;  went  to  the 
parsonage,  and  when  I  joined  him  he  was  sitting  by 
the  fire,  clothed  in  blankets,  and  imbibing  hot  brandy 
and  water.  He  drove  home  covered  with  blankets. 
He  was  an  excellent  parish  priest.  When  the 
cholera  broke  out  at  Barnard  Castle,  he  was  inde- 
fatigable in  visiting  his  people  : 

'  Beside  the  bed  where  parting  life  was  laid, 
And  sorrow,  guilt  and  pain  the  soul  dismayed, 
The  reverend  champion  stood.' 

He  ran  great  risks,  but  he  braved  them.  For 
his  devotion  he  was  made  an  honorary  Canon  of 


NORTH-COUNTRY  CLERGYMEN  161 

Durham.  He  was  a  most  pleasant  companion  in 
fishing-trips,  for  his  good  wife  always  provided  a 
substantial  lunch,  generally  of  a  boiled  fowl,  lettuce, 
and  delicate  bread.  He  settled  where  we  were 
to  meet,  and  there  undid  his  basket  on  some 
primrose  bank.  Luncheon  being  nearly  over, 
he  slily  went  to  the  river's  bank,  and  brought 
up  from  the  cool  water  a  bottle  of  Dublin  stout. 
He  was  a  kindly,  hospitable  man,  and  a  good 
Christian. 

A  very  different  character  was  a  man  who  also 
devoted  himself  to  cholera  patients,  and  helped  to 
bury  them.  He  was  asked  if  he  was  not  afraid  of 
contagion. 

•  Nay,  nay,'  said  he,  '  whaever  heard  tell  of  a  man 
having  cholera  who  took  his  three  pints  of  brandy  a 
day  ?' 

But  he  was  carried  off,  notwithstanding. 

Amongst  the  odd  characters  I  have  known  was 
a  very  kind  bachelor  clergyman,  who  at  that  time 
resided  in  a  solitary  farmhouse  on  the  moors  beyond 
Romaldkirk  in  Teesdale.  He  was  about  forty  years 
old,  over  six  feet  high,  a  Devonshire  man,  the  Rev. 
Wilse  Brown.  He  weekly  walked  in  to  Barnard 
Castle,  on  market  days,  clad  in  a  long  blue  cloak 
flying  behind  him,  and  carrying  a  large  basket  in 
which  to  bring  back  his  weekly  supplies.  He  had 
a  taste  for  mechanics,  and  in  a  room  on  the  ground- 
floor  of  his  house  had  fitted  up  lathes  for  turning  : 
the  latter  he  called  his  '  wife.'  He  made  his  own 
rifle-barrels,  and  even  telescopes.  Finding  that  his 

ii 


162  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

scattered  parishioners  paid  largely  for  very  poor  tea, 
he  arranged  with  Twinings  to  supply  him  with  chests 
of  tea,  which  he  retailed  at  cost  price  to  his  people  ; 
and  gradually  neighbouring  gentry  got  their  supply 
through  him.  This  practice,  of  course,  damaged  all 
the  retail  dealers,  and  roused  their  anger,  and  to 
show  this,  they  had  a  large  board  attached  to  his 
cottage,  with  an  inscription  :  '  Rev.  W.  Brown, 
Unlicensed  Dealer  in  Tea.'  As  this  had  no  effect, 
they  appealed  to  the  Bishop,  who  wrote  to  Wilse 
Brown,  saying  that  he  thought  it  an  unwise  pro- 
ceeding, and  recommending  its  discontinuance  ;  but 
this  had  no  effect  either. 

He  was  fond  of  shooting  with  his  rifle  at  fish, 
which  he  mostly  missed.  He  played  the  flute, 
but  too  often  said  his  '  lips  were  dry,'  when  no 
sounds  came.  He  was  a  great  admirer  of  the  fair 
sex,  and  made  many  offers,  but  no  conquests.  He 
afterwards  inherited  from  his  father  a  family  living 
in  Devonshire,  joined  a  rifle-corps,  and  came 
annually  to  Wimbledon  to  shoot  for  prizes — which 
he  never  succeeded  in  winning — and  brought  with 
him  a  cask  or  two  of  Devonshire  cider,  which  he 
distributed  amongst  his  acquaintances  in  his  tent. 
On  occasions  of  his  annual  visits  he  usually  came  to 
see  and  dine  with  me.  On  one  of  these  visits  he 
told  us  of  a  grand  dinner  at  Wimbledon,  at  which 
he  was  present,  and  said  that  he  had  sat  next  to  a 
very  charming  lady,  who  remarked  to  him  that  it 
was  impossible  to  guess  what  people  were  when 
dressed  in  uniform. 


A   QUEER  PARSON  163 

Said  Wilse  Brown  :  '  I  dare  say  now  you  are 
wondering  what  I  am  ?' 

She  :  '  I  can't  guess.' 

He  :  '  Do  you  think  me  a  carpenter  ?' 

She  :  '  No.' 

He  :  '  A  blacksmith  ?' 

She  :  '  N-n-no,'  doubtfully,  glancing  at  his  huge 
fist  on  the  table. 

He  :  'A  lawyer  ?' 

She  :  '  No/  decidedly  ;  '  but  as  you  have  asked  me 
so  many  questions,  may  I  ask  you  one  ?  What  are 
you  ?' 

Wilse  Brown  said  :  '  I  will  tell  you  in  reply  a 
conversation  I  overheard  in  passing  a  tent  where 
two  men  were  talking. 

'  Said  one  :  "  Who's  that  queer-looking  fellow  ?" 

'The  other  said:  "Why,  he  calls  himself  a  parson."' 

The  lady  laughed,  and  said  :  '  I  don't  believe  it.' 

Wilse  Brown  :  '  But  I  am.' 

The  lady  :  '  Really  !' 

The  last  time  I  saw  him  he  passed  through  the 
railway-station  at  Exeter.  He  wore  a  rough  broad- 
peaked  cap,  a  greenish  jacket,  brown  with  sun, 
rough  gaiters,  and  broad,  heavy  boots  ;  many  cross- 
belts  and  ammunition  pouches,  a  telescope  in  its 
case,  and  a  rifle  carried  over  his  shoulder.  He 
looked  like  the  pictures  of  Robinson  Crusoe,  and 
was  on  his  way  to  the  rifle  butts.  He  seemed 
popular,  as  all  the  officials  touched  their  hats  to  him 
respectfully. 

In  1844,  after  finishing  the  winter's  work,  I  went 


164  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

northwards  to  join  my  wife  at  Barnard  Castle,  but 
found  that  she  had  gone  with  Mrs.  Benning  to 
Tynemouth,  and  I  took  an  early  morning  train, 
and  arrived  there  before  breakfast.  I  met  a  New- 
castle fish-wife,  who  was  selling  '  fresh-gathered 
cherries,'  and  having  bought  some,  I  remarked  that 
they  didn't  look  fresh-gathered.  She  declared  that 
they  were  fresh  that  morning,  having  come  from 
'  Loonon  '  in  the  steamboat.  I  asked  was  this  a 
neighbouring  village  ?  On  this,  with  Newcastle 
vernacular,  she  screamed  out  : 

'  Whaar  have  ye  lived  not  to  know  Loonon  ?' 
I  then  saw  what  she  meant,  and  suggested  that 
they  were  the  refuse  of  Covent  Garden  a  fortnight 
ago,  and  then  her  fury  became  voluble  and  rich. 

We  boated,  and  occasionally  went  to  a  sort  of 
smugglers'  cave  under  the  cliff  (Marsden  Rocks), 
where  dwelt  a  strange  wild  seafaring  man,  whose 
wife  supplied  good  tea  and  girdle-cakes.  One  day 
we  called  on  some  old  family  friends  of  my  wife,  the 
Greens,  of  South  Shields.  In  the  drawing-room  sat 
a  circle  of  ladies,  mostly  rather  advanced  in  years. 
The  one  I  sat  next  to  was  a  geologist,  and  would 
give  me  specimens  of  flexible  limestone,  and  she 
called  a  small  old  lady  '  mother.'  My  friend  was  the 
'  eldest  girl '  (aged  seventy) ;  the  mother  was  ninety, 
bright,  erect  in  her  chair,  and  talkative.  The 
'  youngest  girl '  might  be  about  forty.  They  were 
a  remarkably  long-lived  family  ;  we  used  to  call 
them  '  the  Evergreens.'  The  mother  lived  till 
ninety-eight  or  ninety-nine,  and  then  departed 


LONGEVITY-THE  l  EVER  '-GREENS  165 

simply  from  old  age  ;  felt  disinclined  to  leave  her 
bed  one  morning,  took  no  food,  and  died  next  day, 
falling  quietly  asleep. 

[Two  of  the  daughters  were  reported  this  year 
(1890)  as  being  still  alive,  and  very  keen  whist- 
players,  together  with  two  other  old  friends,  the 
united  ages  of  the  quartette  amounting  to  342.  The 
oldest  living  Miss  Green,  ninety-three  ;  the  second, 
Mrs.  Benning  (third  wife  and  widow  of  Mr.  Benning, 
of  Barnard  Castle),  ninety.] 

In  1844  the  Etching  Club  published  a  volume 
called  '  Etched  Thoughts.'  I  painted  some  small 
pictures,  three  of  which  were  sent  to  the  Royal 
Academy  Exhibition  :  '  Palpitation,'  a  young  lady 
waiting  for  her  letter,  while  the  postman  and  servant 
are  gossiping  on  the  doorstep  ;  '  The  Cup  of  Cold 
Water ;'  and  '  Genevieve,'  from  Coleridge.  This 
picture  was  ruined  by  using  too  much  asphaltum, 
and  ultimately  was  destroyed. 

In  1845  I  completed  the  cartoon  of  '  King  Edward 
III.  receiving  the  Black  Prince  as  a  Knight  of  the 
Garter '  for  the  decoration  of  the  House  of  Lords.* 
In  the  autumn  I  went  with  Horsley  to  Italy  to 
examine  the  technical  methods  of  the  fresco-painters, 
as  already  mentioned.  My  second  daughter,  Mar- 
garet, was  born  April  30. 

In  1846  I  painted  '  The  Young  'Mother'  (nursing), 
sold  to  J.  Sheepshanks  ;  '  Pastorella,'  sold  to  Sir  J. 
Wigram,  the  Vice-Chancellor ;  and  a  small  repetition 

*  The  cartoon  was  approved  by  the  Commissioners  on  March  20, 
1846. 


166  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


of  Mr.  Minshull's  portrait,  for  Mr.  Morgan."3"  Wife 
at  Cheshunt  ;  and  in  the  autumn  wife  and  I  joined 
my  dear  friend  J.  Atkinson  in  a  tour  to  Switzerland. 
The  party  consisted  of  J.  Atkinson  and  wife,  John 
William  Atkinson,  Rev.  Samuel  Hey,  and  our  two 
selves.  J.  Atkinson  was  in  poor  health,  and  took 
with  him  a  well-filled  medicine-chest,  which  was  lost 
in  a  railway-carriage  in  Belgium,  and  he  managed  to 
do  without  it.  We  crossed  the  channel  to  Ostend 
in  the  royal  mail  steamer,  commanded  by  my  old 
friend  Captain  Zachary  Mudge.  He  had  been  fifty 
years  in  the  navy,  and  of  that  time  had  been  forty 
years  afloat.  In  Switzerland  we  made  the  usual  round 
on  mules  ;  I  walked.  It  was  late  in  the  autumn, 
but  the  weather  was  favourable  except  at  Rosenlaue. 
We  left  our  party  at  Vevey,  and  returned  home  with 
a  very  nice  German  governess,  who  kindly  acted  as 
pay  mistress  to  England,  and  we  travelled  both  com- 
fortably and  economically. 

In  1847  I  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy  a 
small  head,  '  Maiden  Meditation,'  now  in  the  Sheep- 
shanks Collection,  and  a  small  group,  '  The  Robe  of 
Righteousness  '  purchased  by  a  Mr.  Collier.  My 
third  daughter,  Florence,  was  born  March  30.  We 
were  this  year  at  Barnard  Castle  ;  I  forget  details. 

[An  old  diary  of  this  year  affords  the  following 
particulars  : 

'January  i. — At  Leeds,  staying  with  J.Atkinson, 
at  Little  Woodhouse. 

[*  The  latter  not  exhibited.  '  Young  Mother '  well  hung  in  corner  of 
great  room.  Small  cartoon  of  the  '  Second  Order  of  Garter '  exhibited 
in  the  miniature  room— N.  Bk.] 


DYCE'S  FRESCO,  OSBORNE  167 


'  Sunday,  ^rd. — Visited  St.  Saviour's  in  afternoon 
(Puseyite).  A  well-placed  church  ;  dim  light  through 
coloured  glass.  Decorated  with  evergreens  and  pro- 
perties. Old  church  in  evening.  Fine  anthem 
(Kent's)  ;  Wesley  at  the  organ.  Excellent  sermon, 
by  Dr.  Hook,  on  the  difference  between  a  willing 
and  a  wishing  mind. 

'  Monday,  /^th. — Got  home  to  my  dear  wife  at  nine, 
and  found  all  well  and  the  house  walls  all  pulled 
about  for  the  new  studio. 

'  Wednesday,  6tk.  —  Attended  at  Kensington 
Church  as  godfather  to  Cole's  boy,  christened 
Allan  Summerly. 

'  Wednesday,  13^. — In  the  evening  had  a  pleasant 
meeting  at  the  Graphic  Society's  conversazione. 
Some  admirable  calotypes  exhibited.  Dyce  in- 
formed me  of  his  reception  on  presenting  his  sketch 
for  the  fresco  at  Osborne  House.  Most  graciously 
received  and  approved  of.  Prince  thought  it  rather 
nude  ;  the  Queen,  however,  said  not  at  all.  He 
stayed  to  lunch,  and  is  to  begin  it  as  soon  as  possible. 
Subject :  "  Neptune  resigning  his  Sceptre  to  Brit- 
annia." He  is  also  engaged  in  an  altarpiece  (for 
All  Saints',  Margaret  Street  ?)  .  .  . 

'  Saturday,  i6tk. — Called  on  Dyce,  and  saw  his 
sketch  for  Osborne  House  fresco  ;  clever  and  agree- 
able, in  the  style  of  Raffaelle's  Galatea  ;  Britannia 
too  rustic.  Also  a  sketch  for  his  altarpiece,  "  a  deposi- 
tion," in  the  Bellini  or  Perugino  manner,  colour  like 
stained  glass.  Went  with  him  to  meet  Barry  at 
House  of  Lords  to  consult  about  filling  up  five  feet 


168  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

below  the  frescoes.  Dyce  proposed  something  in 
the  way  of  an  altar  front  with  figures,  but  Barry 
seemed  most  disposed  to  keep  the  centre  as  it  is, 
and  lower  those  on  each  side,  so  that  the  centre  one 
would  look  as  if  just  higher  purposely  to  avoid  the 
throne.  Met  Richmond  at  Severn's  ;  Etching  Club 
in  evening.  .  .  . 

'Monday,  February  i. — Cole  called  in  the  evening, 
and  talked  about  prospects  of  revival  of  the  Society 
of  Arts,  and  his  new  scheme  of  exhibiting  the  works 
of  one  modern  painter  annually.  .  .  . 

'Monday,  22nd. — Leslie  called  about  his  mad  model 
"James."  .  .  . 

'  Tiiesday,  2$rd. — Had  "James  "  (a  madman)  to  sit. 
Fine  head  and  hair.  Struck  me  as  Shakespeare's 
"  Mad  Tom "  over  again.  Sleeps  in  fields  and 
hayricks,  stables,  etc.  Calls  himself  a  Mohammedan 
Jew.  .  .  . 

'  March  18. — Got  into  my  new  study.  .   .  . 

'  Wednesday,  2^th. — General  fast  and  humiliation 
of  the  nation  before  God  for  repentance  of  sins,  and 
prayer  to  be  delivered  from  the  scourges  of  famine 
and  pestilence  raging  in  parts  of  the  kingdom, 
especially  in  Ireland.  Church  crowded,  shops  all 
closed.  .  .  . 

'  Saturday,  2jt/i. — Sir  William  Fremantle  called  to 
place  his  protege,  Smith,  as  a  pupil  and  assistant  for 
a  year.  .  .  .  Attended  last  conversazione  at  Marquis 
of  Northampton's.  Prince  Albert  was  there,  and 
about  600  visitors.  .  .  . 

'  Tuesday,  April  6. — Sent  pictures  to  the  Academy. 


ORDER  OF  THE  GARTER  169 

Spent  the  day  in  a  ramble  to  Barnes,  with  Redgrave, 
Creswick,  Stonhouse,  Gary,  and  C.  Lewis.  Dined 
and  played  quoits  at  Roehampton.  Lovely  situation. 
Played  at  rounders  on  Putney  Common  afterwards. 
Rainy  walk  home,  very  tired.  ... 

'  Thursday,  July  8. — Prince  Albert  called  to  see 
his  picture,  accompanied  by  the  brave  Prince  Wal- 
demar  of  Prussia,  equerries,  etc.  A  most  agreeable 
interview.  The  Princes  very  much  pleased  and 
complimentary,  and  stayed  nearly  an  hour.  .  .  . 

'  Friday,  August  20. — Fastened  up  tracing  of 
"  Order  of  Garter  "  in  its  place  in  House  of  Lords. 
Spent  the  day  in  ruling  and  correcting  architectural 
and  perspective  lines.  Found  the  space  ten  and  a 
half  inches  higher  and  one  inch  narrower  than  the 
size  given  me.  Cut  the  cartoon  tracing  in  the 
centre  to  get  more  length.  Mulready,  Boxall,  and 
Winstanley  to  dinner.  Made  some  amber  varnish 
in  the  evening.  Richmond  came  in.' 

(Each  day  from  this  point  till  Saturday,  November 
13,  contains  details  of  the  fresco,  painted  daily, 
without  a  break  except  Sundays,  illustrated  here 
and  there  with  little  ink  sketches  of  parts  painted. 
Most  of  these  have  only  technical  interest.  The 
following  entries,  therefore,  alone  are  given.) 

'  Wednesday,  September  15. — Painted  Bishop's 
mitre  and  crosier.  Dined  with  Maclise  at  the 
Rainbow,  on  soles  and  hashed  venison,  and 
returned  at  eight  to  the  House  of  Lords,  to  see 
the  effect  of  gaslight  on  the  frescoes  and  on  the 
stained  glass,  gas  being  laid  on  outside  as  well. 


170  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

The  frescoes  looked  very  brilliant,  and  much  im- 
proved, particularly  that  by  Dyce.  The  glass,  being 
more  strongly  illuminated  inside  than  out,  looked 
negative  and  inky,  and  like  old  paintings  on  an 
opaque  surface.  .  .  . 

'  Tuesday,  September  21. — Much  interrupted  by 
preparations  for  the  ceremony  of  proroguing  Parlia- 
ment, which  ceremony  in  itself  only  occupied  half 
an  hour !  .  .  . 

'  Tiiesday,  2%th. — Began  the  Queen's  face,  but  by 
one  o'clock  a  sort  of  sub-incrustation  seemed  to 
occur,  and  the  upper  colour  did  not  seem  to  unite 
with  the  under  ;  the  suction  most  irregular.  At  two 
got  disgusted,  and  cut  it  all  out.  Afterwards  dis- 
covered that  the  cause  of  this  was  some  new  intonaco 

made  with  wrong  loamy  sand,  got  by  Mr.  L 's 

directions  from  P 's  yard  for  cheapness  !  !  ! 

Oueen  Dowager  visited  House  of  Lords.  .  .  . 

-^^  O 

'Monday,  October  n. — Painted  the  Prince's  face 
and  neck.  Dyce  returned  from  Osborne  House 
after  finishing  his  fresco.  Lord  Morpeth  came  on 
our  scaffolds  for  a  visit. 

'  Tiiesday,  1 2.th.— Painted  the  Prince's  right  hand 
and  sword-hilt.  Parliament  prorogued.  The  same 
absurd  farce  repeated.  Painted  very  quietly  the 
while.  .  .  . 

'  Saturday,  November  6. — Painted-in  the  right  leg 
of  Garter  man.  Eastlake  called,  and  thought  I  had 
not  improved  my  figure  by  altering  it,  and  I  was 
quite  unsettled.  At  last  cut  it  all  out  below  the 
head,  except  the  right  leg.  .  .  . 


FRESCO  DETAILS  171 

'  Thursday,  \\th. — Finished  the  painting  of  the 
fresco,  viz.,  the  step  and  floor  (begun  by  Smith  and 
finished  by  self).  .  .  . 

'Friday,  i2tfc — Worked  on  the  Queen's  face  with 
wax  crayons,  and  succeeded  in  doing  it  very  easily, 
softening  and  going  over  it  with  lines  ;  but  in  cases 
where  time  is  allowed,  I  should  prefer  cutting  out 
and  redoing  any  part  that  requires  it.  Lightened 
the  green  sleeve  also  in  tempera,  and  Smith  painted 
in  the  diaper  on  cloak.  Boxall  and  Townsend 
called  on  us,  Eastlake  also,  who  seemed  pleased, 
and  suggested  that  I  should  think  over  the  subject 
of  Judge  Gascoigne  in  the  corresponding  space  in 
House  of  Lords,  in  case  the  Commissioners  required 
me  to  fill  it. 

'  Saturday^  i$th. — Smith  and  I  finished  the  cloak, 
and  I  then  had  a  gilder,  and  gilt  the  cloak,  part  of 
the  Queen's  robe,  and  a  few  touches  about  the 
knight's  armour.  Maclise  was  so  pleased  with  the 
effect  that  he  also  began  gilding  ;  but  we  both 
regretted  it,  as  it  looked  rather  vulgar  and  staring, 
from  the  gold-size  lines  becoming  too  wide  and 
spreading.  Webster,  C.  Landseer,  and  Barry  on 
scaffold.  I  dislike  tempera  or  wax  retouchings.'] 

[The  following  extracts  from  letters  belong  to 
this  year. 

'  Osborne,  Aug.  13,  1847. 
'  MY    DEAR    COPE, 

'  Having  put  on  bag- wig  and  sword,  I  have 
indited   to   Mr.  S.  Redgrave  my  full-dress  reply  to 


172  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


his  anriouncement ;  but  I  don't  think  I  can  do  any- 
thing in  the  way  of  etching  till  my  return  to  town. 
So  you  begin  to  work  in  the  Peers'  House  on 
Monday.  Much  success  to  you.  Only  when  you 
are  about  to  paint  a  sky  seventeen  feet  long  by 
some  four  or  five  broad,  I  don't  advise  you  to  have 
a  Prince  looking  in  upon  you  every  ten  minutes  or 
so — or  when  you  are  going  to  trace  an  outline,  to 
obtain  the  assistance  of  the  said  Prince  and  an 
Archduke  Constantine  to  hold  up  your  tracing  to 
the  wall,  as  I  have  had.  It  is  very  polite,  con- 
descending, and  so  forth,  and  very  amusing  to 
Princes  and  Dukes,  but  rather  embarrassing  to  the 
artist.  However,  all  that  trouble  has  passed  away, 
and  I  now  have  a  quiet  house,  the  Court  having 
migrated  northward.  .  .  .  Alas  for  mundane,  and  in 
particular  rural,  felicity  in  thatched  cottages  !  It 
was  announced  to  me  the  other  day  that  Lady 
Littleton  had  taken  the  cottage  for  her  daughter, 
and  that  I  must  be  transplanted  into  new  quarters. 
So  I  was  constrained  to  pack  up  and  ....  have 
moved  to  Victoria  Cottage  over  the  way. 

'  Faithfully  yours, 

'W.  DYCE.' 

'East  Cowes,  Aug.  31,  1847. 

'  MY  DEAR  COPE, 

'  I  was  glad  to  have  the  divertimento  of  your 
note  this  morning.  I  am,  however,  again  moved 
out  of  my  quarters  "over  the  way."  ...  So  your 
note  came  to  Osborne.  If  you  write  again,  which 


INTERRUPTED  WORK  173 


I  hope  you  will,  address  "  Osborne,"  as  I  get  the 
letters  sooner.  My  present  quarters,  in  which  I 
suppose  I  shall  remain  till  I  return  to  town,  are 
the  Medina  Hotel,  East  Cowes,  the  cottages  being 
either  occupied  at  present,  or  engaged  for  the 
Queen's  return.  ...  I,  too,  find  fresco  hard  work 
— so  much  "getting  up  ladders "- —but  I  contrive 
always  to  finish  about  five  at  the  latest.  When  I 
was  at  work  where  you  are,  I  was  turned  out  by 
Barry  at  four  ;  or,  rather,  I  should  say,  his  masons 
and  carpenters  and  smiths  and  plasterers  were 
turned  on  at  that  hour,  and  drove  me  off  in  despera- 
tion. I  think  the  best  way  is  to  take  a  little  at  a 
time — no  more  than  you  can  conveniently  and  easily 
get  through  in  five  or  six  hours.  ...  I  hope  to 
complete  my  work  within  two  months.  To-day  I 
have  just  been  a  month,  and  I  have  completed  the 
group  of  Britannia  and  attendants,  Neptune  and 
Amphitrite.  ...  So  that  I  have  now  only  the  sea- 
nymphs,  tritons  and  horses — in  fact,  the  picture  is 
rather  more  than  half  done.  The  nursery-maids 
and  French  governesses  have  been  sadly  scandalized 
by  the  nudities,  especially  when  bits  only  of  figures 
were  done,  but  I  think  they  have  now  become 

accustomed  to  the  sight 

'  Yours  very  truly, 

'W.  DYCE.' 

' .  .  .  I  quite  agree  with  you  that  a  painter  must 
be  animated  with  the  confident  belief  that  his  works 
are  to  live  in  future  ages,  if  he  means  to  succeed  or 


174  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


raise  his  art  above  the  mercenary  level  of  a  trade. 
I  never  entertained  any  other  sentiment.      I  am  now 
fast  following  this  to  town,  when  I  hope  I  shall  see 
you  and  Horsley,  and  talk  this  over  fully. 
'  Very  faithfully  yours, 

•B.   HAWES.']* 

In  1848  I  exhibited  a  large  picture  of  '  Cardinal 
Wolsey's  Reception  at  Leicester  Abbey  ;'  two  com- 
panion pictures,  '  L'Allegro  '  and  '  II  Penseroso  ;' 
and  the  cartoon  of  the  '  Trial  of  Griselda's  Patience.' 
The  former  was  a  commission  from  the  Prince 
Consort,  and  is  now  at  Osborne.  The  two  latter 
pictures  were  secured  by  Mr.  Sheepshanks,  and  are 
now  in  his  gallery  at  South  Kensington. 

[The  following  extracts  are  from  a  diary  for  1848  : 

'  Monday,  January  3. — The  last  touch  put  to 
Wolsey. 

'  Wednesday,  $th. — The  picture  of  Cardinal  Wolsey 
.  .  .  went  this  morning  to  Windsor  at  seven  o'clock. 

'  Saturday,  zgtk. — Sent  a  bound  copy  of  "  WTatts's 
Hymns"  to  H.R.H.  Prince  Albert,  per  coach  to 
Windsor. 

'  Monday,  ^ist. — Prince  Albert  accepted  "  Watts  " 
with  thanks,  and  expressed  his  approbation. 

'  Thursday,  February  10. — Elected  member  of  the 
Royal  Academy  :— 


Scratches:  Watson  Gordon  7 


Cope 


Ballotted  for:  Cope  18 
W.  Gordon  10. 


*  Afterwards  Lord  Llanover. 


Z 

o 

h- 

Q. 
LU 

O 

LU 

cc 

V) 

>- 

LU 
CO 

_! 
O 


ELECTED  A  MEMBER  175 

'Friday,  \\th.  --Called  on  Uwins,  Mulready, 
Webster,  and  Herbert,  to  acknowledge  the  honour. 

'Saturday,  \2th. — Called  on  most  of  the  other 
members  of  the  Royal  Academy. 

*'  Monday,  i^t/i. — Finished  calls. 

'  Saturday,  (April]  22. — First  day  of  touching  up 
at  Royal  Academy.  Wolsey  occupies  the  west  end 
of  large  room,  below  the  line.  "  L'Allegro "  and 
"  Penseroso  "  on  right  of  entrance  door.  Exhibition 
a  good  one.  Striking  pictures — Linnell,  Danby, 
Leslie's  "  Lady  Jane  Grey  Reading,"  Landseer, 
Eastlake,  a  repetition.  No  Turner. 

'  Monday,  i^th. — Grayed  shadow  on  carpet  and 
deepened  shadows  on  Cardinal  very  considerably. 
E.  Landseer  worked  on  my  mule's  head  for  me. 

'  Wednesday,  z6tk. — Finished  touching  up  at  Royal 
Academy  the  picture  of  Wolsey :  it  looks  much 
improved. 

'Friday,  2%th. — Private  view  of  Royal  Academy. 
Jenny  Lind  present.  Herbert's  picture  very  clever, 
but  superficial.  The  Herod  like  a  Venetian  senator  ; 
the  wife  good  in  expression,  but  coarse.  The  dancer 
very  poor  ;  St.  John  good. 

'  Satiirday,  2gtk. — Made  designs  (for  Lear)  in 
morning.  Royal  Academy  dinner  in  evening, 
pretty  well  attended.  Jones  in  chair.  .  .  .  Speakers: 
Lords  Lansdowne,  J.  Russell,  Duke  of  Wellington, 
Hallam,  etc.  .  .  .  Went  after  to  the  opera  with 
Hart — "  Barber  of  Seville,"  Lablache. 

'  Friday,  (June)  2. — Called  on  Eastlake,  and 
showed  him  first  sketch  of  Judge  Gascoigne,  for 


176  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

the  House  of  Lords.  He  seemed  much  pleased 
with  it.  Prince  Albert  had  made  a  sketch  also. 
Begged  to  keep  mine  to  show  the  Commissioners. 
.  .  .  Went  to  Roberts',  R.A.,  where  a  company 
was  assembled  to  see  a  mummy  opened  by  Mr. 
Pettigrew — a  person  of  no  importance  (the  mummy, 
I  mean).' 

(The  sketch  above  mentioned  is  referred  to  in  a 
letter  from  Eastlake,  of  May  31  :  'I  have  duly 
received  your  note  respecting  the  commission  for 
the  House  of  Lords.  Some  time  since,  the  Prince, 
finding  that  many  had  tried  their  hands  at  the 
subject  without  much  success,  took  some  pains  in 
considering  it,  and  made  a  sketch,  which  by  taking 
too  much  care  of,  I  regret  to  say,  has  been  mislaid. 
But  if  you  can  call  on  me  some  day — giving  me 
notice,  so  that  I  may  be  in  the  way — I  can  describe 
the  general  idea,  which  was  good.'  The  diary  from 
July  31  to  September  18  is  occupied  continuously 
with  painting  of  fresco  of  Griselda).] 

In  the  autumn  Sam  Redgrave  went  with  me  to 
Weymouth.  On  our  way  there  we  stopped  at  some 
place,  I  forget  where,  and  had  some  fishing  in  a 
good  little  stream.  I  set  Sam  Redgrave  to  work 
dapping,  and  to  his  own,  and  perhaps  the  fish's, 
surprise,  he  caught  a  half-pounder,  and  was  so 
pleased  that  he  ran  all  the  way  home  to  our  inn  at 
once,  for  fear  of  not  securing  it. 

[The  diary  supplies  forgotten  details  : 

'  September  19. — Left  town  at  ten.  Arrived  at 
Bath,  and  found  coach  waiting,  which  took  me  on 


WELLS  CATHEDRAL  177 

to  Wells,  twenty  miles.  Splendid  day,  the  valley 
very  beautiful.  First  appearance  of  the  cathedral 
attractive.  Great  simplicity  and  propriety.  The 
west  front,  so  much  spoken  of,  disappointed  me  as 
to  the  early  English  sculptures — so  much  ruder  than 
I  expected,  and  not  to  compare  with  G.  Pisano. 

'  Wednesday,  2otk. — Another  fine  day.  Spent  the 
morning  about  and  in  the  cathedral.  Interior  very 
perfect  and  pleasing,  and  in  process  of  complete 
restoration.  Capitals,  foliage,  carvings  to  seats,  etc., 
very  remarkable  for  beauty  and  variety  and  finish. 
Lady  Chapel  exquisite,  also  chapter-house  and  stairs 
up  to  it.  Attended  service.  Then  lunched  at  our 
inn  (Somerset  Arms),  and  walked  on  to  Cheddar, 
skirting  the  hills  all  the  way.  The  village  of 
Hookey,  near  Wells,  very  beautiful. 

'  Thiirsday,  21  st. — Before  breakfast  visited  the 
church.  Fine  stone  pulpit  ;  made  sketch.  After 
breakfast  (Bath  Arms,  comfortable  and  cheap) 
walked  up  to  Cheddar  Cliffs.  Exquisite  scenery. 
Beautiful  cottages  and  gardens  with  water,  cliffs 
bold  and  rocky  in  distance.  Full  of  material  for 
landscape.  Cliffs  very  bold  and  fine,  400  feet 
perpendicular.  Walked  to  Wedmore,  and  dined. 
Walked  on  to  Glastonbury.  A  pastoral,  flat  country, 
full  of  cows  and  milkmaids,  like  Cuyp.  Skirted 
river  for  miles,  twelve  long  miles  from  Cheddar. 

'Friday,  22nd. — Glastonbury,  White  Hart.  Rainy 
morning.  Visited  ruins  of  abbey,  fine  Norman. 
Shocking  modern  Gothic  edifice  of  the  proprietor, 
an  agent  of  Lord  Ashburton  ;  lets  out  the  abbey  for 

12 


178  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

£20  a  year  ;  kitchen,  ditto,  to  another  party.  Each 
charges  6d.  a  head  admission.  Pleasant  drive  to 
Yeovil  ;  dined  ;  mail  to  Dorchester  in  the  evening. 
Left  Dorchester  at  half-past  ten  ;  took  lodgings  at 
Weymouth  for  a  week — 253. — two  bed  and  one  sitting 
room.  Strolled  about  and  inspected  gun  practice, 
thirty-eight  pounders  at  a  mark.  Made  sketch.'] 

While  here  I  made  many  trips  to  Portland  Island, 
and  walked  all  over  it.  The  great  prison  was  not 
then  built ;  but  navvies  were  digging  foundations. 
The  south  side  of  the  island  was  most  romantic  ; 
the  cliffs  craggy,  and  much  broken  into  wild  shapes. 
There  was  a  ruined  castle  called  King  John's 
Castle,  and  a  deserted  churchyard,  filled  with  old 
tombs  falling  into  decay,  and  wild  trees  blown  into 
one  direction  by  the  gales.  Here  was  the  family 
residence  of  Penn,  an  early  settler  in  America.  It 
was  a  deserted  seclusion,  in  which  a  visitor  could 
indulge  in  fancies  of  bygone  ages,  when  the  land 
was  not  defaced  by  '  marine  villas.'  At  low-water 
I  occasionally  returned  by  the  Chesil  Bank,  very 
interesting  geologically.  On  the  north  side  of  the 
island,  opposite  Weymouth,  was  the  inn  where 
George  III.  occasionally  dined,  and  where  he  was 
so  much  puzzled  to  know  '  how  the  apples  got  into  ' 
their  famous  dumplings.  I  begged  for  the  recipe, 
as  the  dumplings  were  excellent,  but  they  assured 
me  that  hundreds  before  me  had  asked  for  the  same 
favour,  which  was  refused  invariably.  A  daughter, 
Mary,  was  born  August  4,  but  died  October  24.  I 
was  elected  a  Royal  Academician,  also  Dyce,  '  in 


ETCHING  CLUB  '  U ALLEGRO'  179 

the  twelfth  year  of  our  reign — Victoria  Regina.'  A 
picture  of  '  Griselda's  Marriage,'  sold  to  Brunei, 
obtained  the  100  guinea  prize  at  Manchester. 

[Diary  :— 

^Thursday,  (December]  2ist. — Dined  with  Rich- 
mond, and  went  to  see  Margaret  Street  church. 
Life-Academy  afterwards  ;  seemed  well  arranged. 
Went  to  Boxall's  and  sat  till  eleven.  Then  to 
Wooley's  (Campden  House)  to  fetch  wife.  A  ball ; 
very  stupid  ;  many  fops.  Left  at  supper  time. 

'  Friday,  22nd. — Richmond  called.  Went  with  him 
to  see  Mr.  Rogers'  pictures.  The  small  Titian  very 
beautiful,  "  Christ  in  the  Garden."  Seems  done 
over  a  warm  transparent  ground,  flesh  cool,  gray 
preparation,  finished  with  glazing. 

'  Friday,  2^th. — Took  Miss  Bleaymire  and  wife  to 
Windsor  to  see  state  apartments.  Presented  the 
Etching  Club  "  L' Allegro  "  to  the  Prince.  He  was 
much  pleased.  Etching  Club  in  the  evening.  Pro- 
posed Frost  for  election,  and  divided  "  Penseroso." 

'  Saturday,  ysth. — Made  a  sketch  in  colour  for 
Lear  .  .  .  Dined  at  Royal  Academy  to  meet  the  old 
council  and  take  seat  at  table  on  the  new.'] 

In  1849  I  executed  in  fresco  the  design  of 
'  Griselda '  in  the  Upper  Waiting  Hall.  When 
finished,  it  was  repeatedly  sponged  as  a  test  of  the 
firmness  of  the  colours,  which  seemed  irremovable  ; 
but  yet  (as  mentioned  above)  time  and  damp  have 
almost  effaced  this  work,  as  well  as  the  '  Lara '  in 
the  same  angle  of  the  room.  At  the  Royal 
Academy  I  exhibited  a  small  coloured  sketch 


i8o  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

in  oils  of  '  Griselda,'  the  property  of  Mr.  Monro, 
of  Novar ;  a  small  'Fireside  Musings/  bought  by 
J.  Gibbons,  Esq.,  before  exhibition  ;  and  (life-size) 
'  The  First-born,'  sold  to  Mr.  Dewhurst,  of  Man- 
chester, whose  son  still  possesses  it.  It  was 
engraved  by  Vernon,  in  line,  for  the  Art  Union 
of  Glasgow. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

EXCURSION    WITH    GEORGE    RICHMOND. 

I  THINK  it  must  have  been  about  this  time  that 
Richmond,  who  was  not  well,  accompanied  me  in 
an  excursion  to  Barnard  Castle,  to  be  initiated  into 
the  mysteries  of  fly-fishing.  We  started  on  the 
Tees  at  Pierce  Bridge,  a  few  miles  above  Darling- 
ton, and  he  worked  hard  learning  to  throw  his  line, 
and  we  fished  up  to  Gainford,  where  we  slept  in  a 
modest  country  inn.  Next  day  we  were  to  work  up 
the  river  to  Barnard  Castle,  some  seven  or  eight  miles. 
I  got  interested  in  my  own  sport,  but  about  two  o'clock 
I  got  anxious,  as  I  could  not  see  my  companion  ;  and 
there  was  some  rough  country  and  deep  water  to 
pass.  I  shouted  ;  went  back,  went  forward  ;  could 
find  no  trace  of  him.  The  horrible  thought  sug- 
gested itself :  '  Had  he  fallen  in  and  been  drowned  ?' 
No  more  fishing  for  me  that  day  ;  so  I  put  up  my 
rod,  and  walked  and  ran  to  Barnard  Castle,  to  my 
father-in-law's  house,  in  a  frantic  state  of  dread, 
excitement,  and  heat.  I  rushed  upstairs  to  the 
drawing-room,  and,  lo !  there  sat  Richmond,  calmly 
sipping  his  tea,  and  chatting  with  Lizzie,  my  wife's 
sister.  I  was  overjoyed,  and  then  angry. 


i8z  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

'  Why,'  I  asked,  '  did  you  desert  me  without 
notice,  causing  me  all  this  anxiety  ?  It  was  not 
considerate  nor  fair.' 

'  Well,  said  he,  '  I  was  very  tired  ;  so  I  got  on  to 
a  road  and  sat  down,  and  a  gentleman  in  a  gig 
passed  me,  and  looked  hard,  and  then  stopped.  I 
asked  the  way  to  Barnard  Castle.  "  I'm  going 
there,"  said  he  ;  "jump  in,  and  I'll  drive  you,  which 
is  better  than  walking."  He  set  me  down  at  the 
Doctor's  house,  where  I  have  been  most  kindly 
received  and  entertained  by  Miss  Lizzie.' 

We  remained  about  a  fortnight,  visiting  the  Tees 
and  Greta  with  our  rods.  Richmond  was  long 
unable  to  see  where  his  flies  were  on  the  water,  as 
the  rapid  stream  floated  them  down  while  he  sup- 
posed they  were  in  the  same  place  where  he  had 
first  thrown  them.  The  Greta  is  a  very  difficult 
river  to  fish,  being  full  of  great  boulders,  between 
which  the  water  is  deep  and  the  current  strong, 
besides  being  much  overhung  with  trees  ;  and  all 
this  makes  it  very  hard  work,  especially  for  beginners. 
However,  he  was  well  initiated  for  our  next  river, 
the  Coquet,  in  Northumberland,  where  we  pro- 
ceeded, and  put  up  at  Weldon  Bridge  Inn.  Here 
we  had  a  visitor,  the  Rector  of  Felton,  who,  hearing 
of  our  arrival,  wished  to  be  hospitable,  and,  finding 
that  we  were  bent  on  fishing,  gave  us  a  note  to 
Major  Cadogan,  of  Brinkburn  Priory,  and  he  sent 
his  curate  to  drive  us  over.  The  family  were  away, 
but  we  had  a  pleasant  afternoon's  sport,  and  I 
believe  I  beat  the  curate  in  fish  caught,  although  he 


THE  COQUET  183 

knew  the  river  well.  The  Felton  Rector  invited  us 
to  dinner,  and  there  was  a  pleasant  party  of  men. 
He  had  at  one  time  kept  hounds,  I  was  told.  He 
was  a  most  hospitable,  kindly  old  gentleman  of  the 
old  school,  and  gave  his  guests  excellent  port  wine.* 

We  then  went  on  to  Harbottle,  and  Richmond 
got  a  pony  to  go  up  to  our  destination,  Burra  Burn, 
as  he  was  unwell.  I  walked.  We  had  to  ford  the 
Coquet  more  than  once,  but  the  walk  was  mostly  on 
the  soft  green  turf.  When  we  arrived  at  the  solitary 
small  farm-house  the  mistress  was  out,  and  a  girl 
told  us  to  sit  down  and  wait  by  the  peat-fire.  At 
last  we  heard  the  sound  of  a  pony's  hoofs  clanking 
at  the  door,  and  in  came  the  mistress,  niece  to  the  old 
farmer,  a  strikingly  handsome  woman  of  about  twenty- 
five.  Her  voice  and  manners  were  perfect,  and 
quietly  dignified.  She  much  regretted  that  the 
room  her  uncle  built  on  as  an  additional  bedroom  for 
the  accommodation  of  fishermen  was  not  very  dry, 
but  would  we  go  and  look  at  it.  The  walls  were  un- 
mistakably damp,  and  my  friend  declared  nothing 
would  induce  him  to  sleep  in  it,  and  he  was  too  ill 
to  go  back.  During  this  colloquy  she  moved  about 
with  singular  grace,  and  stepping  into  the  middle 
of  the  room,  she  undid  a  string,  and  down  fell  her 
riding-skirt  on  to  the  floor,  out  of  which  she  gently 
stepped,  as  out  of  a  nest.  What  was  to  be  done  ? 

'  Weel,'  she  said,  '  there's  anither  cottage  up  the 
glen,  and  the  folks  are  unco  guid,  and  mayhap  would 
accommodate  ye.' 

*  Rev.  James  Allgood. 


1 84  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Richmond  groaned  and  said  he  should  come  back, 
but  he  was  persuaded  to  remount  his  pony  and  go  on 
to  try,  and  we  recrossed  the  river. 

The  house  was  a  large  one-storied  stone  structure ; 
the  door,  in  the  centre,  opened  into  the  kitchen,  from 
which  two  doors  led  into  bedrooms  at  each  end.  It 
was  now  getting  dusk.  The  inmates  received  us 
kindly,  and  said  they  would  do  the  best  they  could 
for  us,  and  hoped  we  were  '  no  particklar.'  A  peat- 
fire  was  at  once  lighted  in  the  left-hand  room,  where 
two  small  bedsteads  were  against  the  side-wall  foot 
to  foot,  and  the  linen  spotlessly  clean.  So  here  we 
remained,  and  were  very  comfortable.  Our  food  was 
mostly  boiled  eggs,  tea,  oat-cake,  and  good  butter, 
and  also  some  very  fine  white  bread.  After  the  first 
day  trout  was  added,  and,  indeed,  so  great  was  our 
sport,  that  we  sent  it  to  the  neighbours  around. 
Richmond  here  improved  vastly  in  fly-fishing,  and,  I 
think,  caught  upwards  of  twenty  in  one  day.  The 
fishing  was  excellent  and  easy.  The  sportsman 
could  wander  for  miles  on  the  banks,  walking  on  soft 
short  grass,  and  not  hindered  by  a  tree  or  even  a 
bush,  while  there  was  a  continuous  succession  pf 
pools  and  swift  runs,  and  an  occasional  waterfall.  In 
the  afternoon  Richmond  put  on  gaiters  (for  dress), 
and  wandered  about  with  a  volume  of  Chaucer, 
which  we  also  read  aloud  in  the  evenings.  It  was  a 
pleasant  rest  and  change. 

We  sent  fish  to  the  beauty  at  '  Burra  Burn.1  I 
had  supposed  that  Richmond  was  too  unwell  to 
have  noticed  her,  but  on  my  remarking  one  day  on 


A  NORTHUMBRIAN  BEAUTY  185 

her  gracefulness  and  beauty,  to  my  surprise  he  said 
quietly,  '  Yes,  she  might  have  been  a  duchess,  her 
manner  was  so  good  ;  but  she  had  a  spot  on  one 
of  her  teeth.'  Oddly  enough,  either  then,  or  sub- 
sequently on  a  second  visit,  while  we  were  marching 
away  'o'er  the  pathless  grass,'  a  farmer  on  his  pony 
joined  us  and  chatted  about  her,  and  he  said,  '  She 
does  na  seem  quite  weel.  I'm  thinking  it's  her 
teeth !'  This  jolly  man  hoped  we  would  visit  him 
some  other  time,  and  assured  us  of  a  hearty 
welcome  and  good  sport.  We  went  back  and,  I 
think  at  Roth  bury,  hired  a  trap  to  take  us  to  Felton 
Bridge.  We  soon  found  that  the  mare  was  unfit  for 
work,  and  we  got  out  and  walked  up  hills,  etc.,  the 
hulking  fellow  who  drove  remonstrating  with  us, 
while  he  never  moved  from  his  seat,  in  spite  of  the 
poor  mare's  sufferings.  I  was  very  angry  alto- 
gether, and  gave  vent  to  my  indignation  audibly, 
when  my  companion  gave  me  a  lesson  which  has 
lasted  my  life.  '  My  dear  Cope,'  said  he,  '  there's 
no  road  so  rough  but  it  has  flowers  on  its  banks,  if 
we  will  only  look  for  them.' 

We  returned  by  way  of  Carlisle  and  Penrith  to  the 
Lakes,  and  near  Eamont  Bridge  and  Ullswater,  at 
the  village  of  Temple  Sowerby,  we  called  on  an  old 
lady,  a  friend  of  my  wife's  family,  who  had  also  visited 
us  in  London,  a  Miss  Bleaymire,  very  tall  and  stately, 
with  a  dark  moustache  on  her  upper  lip,  a  very 
amusing  character.  As  we  drove  into  her  garden, 
her  factotum  had  just  raked  the  gravelled  drive,  and 
seemed  in  doubt  about  admitting  us.  We  inquired 


1 86  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


if  his  mistress  was  at  home.  'Ay,'  said  he  ;  and  I 
observed  in  one  of  the  upper  windows  her  tall, 
gaunt  form,  clad  in  a  sort  of  bedgown,  and  when  she 
saw  us  she  gradually  lowered  herself  and  disap- 
peared. We  waited  for  half  an  hour  before  she 
appeared  '  en  grande  tenue  '  and  welcomed  us.  We 
stayed  to  luncheon,  on  sweetbread  and  rook  pie. 
She  informed  us  that  a  lady  friend  had  sent  her  the 
former,  but  would  we  take  the  latter  ?  It  was  cold, 
and  rather  mousy,  and  after  some  misgiving  she 
gave  Richmond  a  small  bit  of  her  dish.  Then  about 
beverages,  would  we  like  some  bottled  beer?  It 
was  a  hot  day,  and  we  said,  '  Yes,  of  all  things  the 
best.'  So  she  produced  from  the  depths  of  a  deep 
pocket  a  large  key  and  gave  it  to  the  factotum,  who 
speedily  returned  and  filled  all  our  tumblers,  and 
afterwards  he  asked  would  Richmond  have  some 
more.  '  Thank  you,'  said  he.  Said  the  factotum, 
'  There  is  none.'  Again  the  key  was  very  slowly 
produced,  after  the  factotum's  veiled  suggestion,  and 
again  she  partook  herself  largely.  She  then  made 
me  sit  with  her  in  her  little  carriage,  and  told  Rich- 
mond he  might  go  in  our  trap  by  himself,  as  she 
wanted  to  talk  privately  to  me,  and  I  was  subjected 
to  a  close  cross-examination  about  family  matters. 
We  left  her  at  the  lake,  took  a  boat  to  the  inn  at 
Patterdale,  and  thence  to  Lancaster,  where,  on 
account  of  Richmond  being  still  not  quite  well,  we 
were  to  sleep. 

We  arrived  about  mid-day,  and,  having  nothing  to 
do,    I    suggested  that  we  should   try  and   find  out 


LANCASTER  187 


some  relatives  of  my  wife  who  resided  there,  and 
whom  I  had  never  seen.  He  assented,  and  we 
wandered  up  the  main  street  and  observed  an  old- 
fashioned  chemist's  shop,  with  the  name  of  Ross. 
Now,  Miss  Harrison,  my  wife's  aunt,  had  married 
a  person  of  that  name.  So  we  went  in.  The  at- 
tendant said  that  Mr.  Ross  was  engaged  on  some 
chemical  experiment,  but  he  took  in  our  names.  We 
were  then  shown  in,  and  found  a  tall,  pleasant- 
looking  man  with  a  long  pinafore  on,  busy  with 
retorts  and  bottles.  I  mentioned  my  name,  and 
said  I  did  not  like  to  be  in  Lancaster  without 
asking  if  he  was  connected  with  my  wife  by  mar- 
riage. 'Yes,'  said  he,  'and  I  am  heartily  glad  to 
make  your  acquaintance.'  His  wife  was  staying  at 
Morecambe,  and  he  proposed  to  drive  us  over  there 
to  see  her,  and  sent  to  order  a  carriage.  '  But,'  said 
he,  '  should  you  not  also  call  on  Mrs.  Cope's  uncle  ? 
He  may  feel  hurt  if  neglected.'  He  took  us  to 
Dallas  Place.  Was  Dr.  Harrison  at  home  ?  '  Yes.' 
The  servant  showed  us  into  a  back  room,  in  which 
the  carpet  was  rolled  up,  the  chairs  placed  on  each 
other,  and  everything  in  disorder.  Richmond  seated 
himself  on  the  roll  of  carpet. 

Presently  in  came  Mr.  Harrison,  and  stared  at  two 
strangers  with  Mr.  Ross,  who  immediately  made  us 
known.  The  uncle  was  effusively  civil.  He  was 
'  quite  shocked '  to  receive  us  in  such  a  room,  but 
things  were  put  away  on  account  of  leaving  for  the 
seaside.  '  Dear  me  !  dear  me  !'  And  for  the  same 
cause  he  could  not  offer  refreshment ;  but  yet  perhaps 


1 88  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

he  could  procure  some  soda-water,  as  we  confessed 
to  thirst.  One  bottle  was  unearthed,  which  Richmond 
drank.  '  But,'  said  Mr.  Harrison  to  me,  '  if  you  will 
accompany  me  to  the  railway-station,  I  will  ask  for 
the  best  place  for  you  to  sleep  and  break  the  journey 
to  London  ;  and  you  can  have  soda-water  as  well.' 
The  manager  recommended  Crewe.  I  declined  the 
soda-water,  and  we  returned  to  his  house.  The 
back  room  opened  into  the  garden.  Where  was 
Richmond  ?  '  Oh,  there  he  is  ;  dear  me !'  And,  true 
enough,  Richmond  had  wandered  into  the  garden, 
and,  finding  no  chair,  had  seated  himself  on  the  gravel 
walk.  '  Oh,  how  shocking !' 

We  then  began  to  take  our  leave  in  the  front  hall, 
saying  we  were  going  to  our  inn  to  get  some  tea. 
'  Oh,  take  tea  here  ;'  and,  to  our  surprise,  he  opened 
a  door,  and  there  was  a  comfortably-furnished  tea- 
table,  with  Mrs.  Harrison  presiding ;  and  she  and 
her  sister,  Miss  Noble,  waiting  impatiently  for  the 
departure  of  the  strangers. 

Mr.  Harrison  introduced  us  apologetically,  and  we 
sat  down.  Mrs.  Harrison  was  in  dudgeon  with  me, 
she  informed  me ;  for,  being  in  London,  she  had 
called  at  my  house.  We  were  all  away,  and  the 
servant  had  refused  to  show  her  my  studio,  and  said 
it  was  locked  up.  I  thought  her  rude,  and  explained 
that  the  order  could  not  be  intended  to  exclude  her, 
seeing  that  I  knew  nothing  of  her  calling.  Rich- 
mond came  to  the  rescue  with  bland  gentleness,  and 
the  breeze  subsided. 

At  last  Mr.  Ross  arrived  with  the  carriage,  and  we 


THE  DOCTOR  AND  THE  CHEMIST  189 

drove  away  to  Morecambe  ;  and  there  our  reception 
was  as  kind  and  cordial  as  the  other  was  cold.  Mrs. 
Ross  was  a  sweet,  lovable  woman,  and  her  two 
daughters  were  nice  young  girls.  We  spent  a 
pleasant  evening,  Richmond  conversing  with  Mr. 
Ross,  and  I  answering  all  his  wife's  kind  inquiries 
about  her  niece  (to  whom  she  had  been  for  years  as 
a  second  mother).  We  took  leave  reluctantly,  and 
drove  back  to  our  inn. 

Next  morning  we  found  Mr.  Harrison  at  the 
rail  way -station  bustling  about,  with  the  kindest 
intentions  of  being  civil  and  useful  (offering  more 
soda-water).  Perhaps  I  should  explain  that  Mrs. 
Harrison  was  a  proud  woman,  and  highly  disapproved 
of  her  sister-in-law's  marriage,  and  thus  there  was  a 
coolness  on  her  part.  But  the  truth  is  that  Mr.  Ross 
was  a  very  superior  man,  a  good  classical  scholar,  and 
a  scientific  chemist,  reading  Herodotus,  Virgil,  and 
Horace  as  a  recreation  ;  and,  moreover,  he  was  a 
good  Christian  man.  Mr.  Harrison  was  really  a  most 
kind-hearted  man,  but  not  quite  a  free  agent,  and  his 
reception  of  us  showed  how  sadly  he  was  deficient  in 
tact.  We  stopped  at  Crewe,  as  he  had  recommended, 
but  sleep  was  out  of  the  question,  owing  to  the  cease- 
less shrieks  of  the  engines  and  the  noise  of  trains 
coming  and  going  all  night  long. 

1850. — Pictures:  'King  Lear  and  Cordelia, 'painted 
for  I.  K.  Brunei,  Esq.,  for  his  Shakespeare  Room ; 
two  coloured  sketches  for  the  frescoes  in  the  House  of 
Lords,  '  Order  of  the  Garter  '  and  '  Judge  Gascoigne  ' 
—  to  illustrate  Chivalry  and  Justice;  small  head 


1 9o  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

of  my  boy  Charles  ;  '  Milton's  Dream,'  for  J.  Gibbons, 
Esq.  ;  '  Evening  Prayer,'  for  Mr.  Newsham,  of 
Preston.  All  sent  to  the  Royal  Academy. 

I  think  it  was  in  this  year  that  we  all  went  to 
Margate  in  the  autumn,  to  join  the  Richmonds  and 
family.  The  mothers  consorted  together ;  the  chil- 
dren met,  and  played,  and  '  tiffed ' ;  and  Richmond 
and  I  usually  sketched  from  Nature  out-of-doors  in 
the  morning,  and  played  bowls  in  the  afternoon,  and 
read,  or  rather,  listened  to  Mr.  Giles's  reading  of,  the 
'Mysteries  of  Udolpho'  in  the  evenings.  On  my 
way  home  I  visited  Canterbury,  Knowle,  etc. 

[The  following  letter  was  written  at  this  time  : 

'  White  Hart  Inn,  Sevenoaks, 
'Oct.  12,  1850. 

'  MY  DEAR  RICHMOND, 

'  I  heard  from  my  wife  to-day  that  your  poor 
little  infant  escaped  from  her  sufferings  on  Thursday. 
I  am  sure  I  need  not  say  that  I  feelingly  sympathize 
with  you  both  under  the  bereavement ;  for,  however 
short  a  time  these  little  ones  are  lent  us,  we  cannot 
help  feeling  a  twitch  at  our  deepest  heart-strings  at 
their  departure.  She  reminded  me  so  much  of  our 
own  little  one  in  her  illness  that  we  both  lived  over 
again  in  mind  that  period  of  suspense  and  anxiety. 
Your  poor  wife  will  .feel  it  very  much.  However,  I 
do  not  wish  to  dwell  on  this  sad  subject  ;  but  as  I 
was  on  the  point  of  writing  to  you,  I  do  not  see  why 
I  may  not  yet  do  so,  if  only  to  thank  you  for  sending 
me  into  this  beautiful  country.  I  am  delighted  with 
it !  The  timber,  particularly  the  beeches,  is  finer 


SEVENOAKS  191 


than  any  I  ever  saw,  and  you  cannot  conceive  any- 
thing more  beautiful  than  the  colour  lit  up  by  the 
afternoon  sun.  The  stems  are  getting  bare  here  and 
there,  and  this  adds  to  their  grandeur  greatly. 

'  On  Thursday  I  went  over  Knowle  interior,  and 
strolled  about  the  park.  On  Friday  I  went  to 
Ightham,  but,  by  self-conceit  and  the  map,  walked 
twelve  miles  before  I  got  there,  and  then  found  the 
moat  two  or  three  miles  further.  However,  I  was 
most  interested  in  it.  Mrs.  Bigge  was  out,  but  a 
canny  Scotch  valet  did  the  civil.  I  made  a  few  lines, 
but  the  high  wind  and  rain  drove  me  off. 

'  To-day  I  walked  over  to  Hever  Castle,  and  spent 
four  hours  there  most  diligently — in  fact,  I'm  learning 
these  castles  ;  they're  quite  Spenserian.  The  walk 
back  to-day  was  splendid  :  the  setting  sun  on  the 
autumn  woodsides,  the  deep  quiet  green  shades,  and 
the  orange  finding  its  way  among  them,  and  hinting 
at  all  the  inmost  anatomy  of  the  trees,  was  something 
for  you  to  feed  on.  You  must  come,  and  I  really 
believe  that  you  ought,  as  a  duty.  Nothing  is  so 
wholesome,  after  over-anxiety  and  suspense,  as  the 
quiet  induced  by  the  beauty  of  Nature.  You  owe  it 
to  yourself  and  family.  I  might  here  be  eloquent, 
but  I  am  writing  against  time,  as  a  man  is  waiting 
for  my  scrawl. 

1  The  inn  here  is  very  quiet,  the  people  new-comers 
— some  six  weeks  or  so — the  landlord  a  character,  a 
lifeguardsman  or  gamekeeper  spoiled,  rejoicing  in  the 
name  of  Adolphus  Francis  !  They  charge  me  thirty 
shillings  a  week.  I  inhabit  a  perfect  salone  (after 


192  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Margate) :  three  windows,  and  red  curtains,  side- 
board, stuffed  fox,  portrait  of  a  bishop  and  a  'worthy,' 
and  a  good  fire.  Bedroom  at  the  top  of  the  house. 
I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  join  me.  Forgive  this 
scribble,  and,  with  most  kind  and  sincere  condolences 
and  good  wishes  for  your  wife  and  self, 
'  Believe  me,  dear  Richmond, 

'  Yours  ever  and  most  faithfully, 

1  C.  W.  COPE.' 

Another  letter  of  recent  date  refers  to  this,  and 
both  have  been  preserved  by  Mr.  Richmond,  who 
has  kindly  allowed  me  to  use  them. 

'  Maidenhead,  Dec.  13,  1886. 

'  MY  DEAR  RICHMOND, 

'  Thank  you  heartily  for  your  kind  letter  re- 
calling old  friendships,  and  also  for  the  letter  which 
you  have  sent  for  perusal,  and  which  I  return,  as  you 
desire.  My  wife  sends  her  kind  regards,  and  thanks 
you  for  letting  her  see  mine  (!).  She  said  it  was 
"  very  nice,"  and  also  that,  in  the  matter  of  hand- 
writing, I  had  improved  since  then.  .  .  .  Curiously 
enough,  although  I  have  sketches  made  at  the  date 
of  my  letter  of  autumnal  foliage  at  Sevenoaks,  yet  I 
cannot  remember  the  inn  with  its  three  windows,  and 
the  portrait  of  a  bishop,  and  a  fox's  head.  The 
"good  fire"  in  the  sitting-room  in  the  evening  reminds 
me  how  cold  the  weather  was  for  sketching  out  of 
doors. 

'  I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  you  have  been  a  prisoner 
from  ill-health    for  some    time ;    I   sympathize  with 


'MANAGED  BY  A  COMMITTEE'  193 

you,  being  also  a  sufferer  in  some  similar  way.  My 
doctor  advises  never  to  go  out  about  sunset  at  this 
time  of  year,  and  not  at  all  in  cold  east  winds — good 
advice  for  you  also.  I  remember  dear  old  Palmer 
used  to  complain  pathetically  that  he  was  "  managed 
by  a  committee  of  women  "  ;  so,  I  dare  say,  are  you. 
I  am  in  that  position  ;  even  the  maid  Julia  rushes 
up  to  tell  my  wife,  "  Please,  master's  gone  out." 
When  I  come  in,  I  get  into  my  own  den  as  quickly 
as  may  be,  but  do  not  escape  ultimate  remon- 
strances. .  .  . 

'  I  am  glad  that  you  think  there  is  something  in  the 
little  design  by  Angelica  Kauffmann.  The  mys- 
terious, spirit-like  look  of  the  principal  figure  is  a 
distinct  conception,  and  is,  I  think,  worthy  of  being 
carried  out  by  such  a  pencil  as  that  of  Correggio,  and 
the  suggestion  of  light  emanating  from  him  is  like 
him.  Thanks  for  offering  to  send  it  to  Miss  J.  Sass, 
whose  address  I  enclose,  and  to  whom  I  have  written 
to  say  that  a  friend  would  leave  it  in  two  or  three 
days. 

'  Accept,  my  dear  old  friend,  my  hearty  good 
wishes.  We  are  both  getting  (have  got)  very  old. 
How  many  are  our  blessings,  and  have  been  "  all  the 
days  of  our  life,"  thanks  be  to  God ! 

'  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

'  C.  W.  COPE.'] 

1851. — Sent  to  the  Royal  Academy:  i.  'The 
Sisters,'  life-size — a  gay  sister  tempting  her  graver 
sister  to  join  a  festive  party ;  sold  at  Manchester,  to 

13 


194  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Mr.  Watt.  2.  '  Laurence  Saunders'  Martyrdom,'  in 
three  compartments  in  one  frame  :  (i)  his  wife  and 
child  at  the  prison  door  (she  brought  him  a  long  robe 
to  be  burnt  in)  ;  (2)  the  gaoler  bringing  the  child  to 
see  his  father  in  prison  ;  (3)  Saunders  going  to  the 
stake.  3.  I  sent  a  portrait,  life-size,  of  a  child  (little 
Hallam).  painted  previously  at  Florence.  4.  Small 
head  of  wife's  cousin,  Lizzie  Benning. 

In  the  autumn  I  joined  Sulivan  at  Aboyne  for 
some  salmon-fishing.  The  fishing  was  not  a  success  ; 
all  my  sport  was  one  pike  that  took  my  salmon-fly. 
Lord  Aboyne  was  staying  at  the  inn,  and  I  fancied 
his  eye  twinkled  when  he  asked  me  about  my  sport 
(he  had  let  Mr.  Sulivan  the  fishing).  The  weather 
was  also  against  sport,  being  hot  and  dry.  I  amused 
myself  by  sketching,  in  oil,  a  blacksmith's  forge. 
The  blacksmith  was  a  very  interesting  man,  and  an 
antiquary,  having  a  collection  of  stirrups  and  horse- 
shoes of  all  dates.  I  had  many  talks  with  him  ;  but 
for  some  days  his  fire  was  out,  and  he  was  absent. 
One  evening  I  strolled  out  in  the  starlight  with  a 
pipe.  In  the  road  opposite  our  house  was  a  large 
space  of  grass.  As  I  walked  across  it,  I  stumbled 
over  something  in  the  dark  :  it  was  soft  and  warm, 
although  frost  was  on  the  ground.  It  was  a  human 
body !  I  went  into  the  house,  and  Sulivan  and  his 
man  came  out  with  a  lantern.  It  was  my  friend  the 
blacksmith !  We  carried  him  to  his  cottage  door,  at 
which  we  hammered,  His  old  wife,  from  an  upper 
window,  screamed  out,  '  Wha's  there  ?'  She  would 
not  take  him  in  ;  but,  hoping  that  if  we  left  him  at  the 


SALMON-FISHING  AT  ABOYNE,  ETC.  195 

door  she  would  relent,  we  left  him  propped  up. 
Said  she,  '  I'll  have  nae  drunkards  in  my  house.'  In 
half  an  hour  I  went  out  again,  and,  as  he  was  not  at 
the  door,  I  supposed  he  had  been  admitted.  But 
no  ;  he  had  gone  back  to  the  cold  grass,  and  he  slept 
there  till  morning.  The  poor  man  was  a  teetotaler, 
but  in  a  weak  moment  he  was  beguiled  to  take  a 
glass  of  beer  with  some  carters  ;  and,  once  having 
tasted,  he  drank  for  a  fortnight,  and  then  became  sad 
and  sober ;  and  it  was  said  that  probably  he  would 
abstain  for  many  months  afterwards,  and  be  sober 
and  most  respectable.  The  Dee  as  a  salmon  river 
was  worthless.  On  November  19  a  daughter, 
Charlotte  Ellen,  was  born. 

1852.  —  Exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy: 
i.  'Marriage  of  Griselda,'  for  Mr.  Betts,  for  a 
dining-room  at  Preston  Hall,  Kent.  There  were 
there  also  pictures  by  Edwin  Landseer,  Maclise, 
Stanneld,  Herbert,  etc.  2.  A  small  picture, 
'  Creeping  like  Snail  unwillingly  to  School,'  for  Mr. 
Bashall,  of  Preston.  3.  '  Portrait  of  Florence  Cope 
at  Dinner-time.'  4.  A  drawing  of  a  child  (Christo 
pher)  after  death. 

I  may  here  mention  that  Mr.  Betts  incited  us 
painters  annually  for  two  days'  visit  to  his  mansion 
in  Kent,  which  was  for  that  time  en  fete,  a  continual 
feast  of  merriment  and  hospitality — '  a  feast  of  reason 
and  a  flow  of  soul ' — luncheons,  garden-parties,  and 
sumptuous  dinners.  On  the  first  day  were  neigh- 
bours; on  the  second,  '  swells  '  from  longer  distances. 
In  the  evenings  E.  Landseer  and  Dr.  Herring 


196  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

travestied  Lablache  and  Rubini  inimitably,  although 
neither  of  them  knew  a  note  of  music,  except  by  ear. 
The  painter  Lance  and  Frith  were  also  of  the 
party. 

One  morning  Maclise,  Frith,  Thomas  the  sculptor, 
and  I  were  sitting  in  a  summer-house,  and  we  saw 
Lance  approaching  us  along  the  gravel-path. 

Said  Frith:  'Here  comes  Lance!  I'll  lay  a 
wager  that  in  five  minutes  he'll  talk  of  Blenheim 
and  the  Duke  of  Maryborough.' 

'  Done,'  said  (I  think)  Maclise,  'for  half  a  crown.' 

Lance  sat  down,  and  someone  took  out  his  watch 
and  placed  it  on  the  rustic  table,  and  all  looked  at  the 
time.  We  were  talking  of  M  r.  Betts'  gardeners  and  his 
cucumbers,  when  Lance  broke  in  with,  '  When  I  was 
at  Blenheim  last,  the  Duke's  grapes,'  etc.,  etc.  Not 
two  minutes  had  elapsed.  The  watch  was  quietly 
taken  up,  and  a  half-crown  handed  over — in  silence. 
It  was  irresistible ;  and,  in  order  not  to  wound 
Lance's  feelings,  as  he  was  entirely  innocent  of  the 
fun,  we  were  obliged  to  disperse. 

In  the  summer  I  took  my  boy  Charlie,  then  eleven 
years  old,  to  Aberlour,  in  Scotland,  after  visiting  Mr. 
Thurburn  at  Murtle,  near  Aberdeen.  [We  went 
from  London  to  Aberdeen  by  sea  in  a  steamer,  City 
of  Aberdeen  (or  London],  commanded  by  Captain 
Cargill,  who  had  been  employed  with  this  steamer  in 
the  Crimean  War  to  carry  stores  for  the  troops  ;  and 
his  was  the  only  ship  that  successfully  rode  out  a 
very  severe  gale  off  Balaclava.] 

The  fishing  in  the  Spey  was  excellent :  salmon  in 


LANCE  AND  THE  DUKE—SPEY  FISHING  197 

the  main  stream  and  trout  in  a  feeder  (the  Fiddich  ?), 
and  the  sport  was  good.  In  the  small  burn  was  a 
waterfall  into  a  deep  pool  :  here  I  went  to  sketch  ; 
and  Charlie  said  he  had  heard  that  '  if  a  fellow  struck 
out  fearlessly  '  he  would  swim.  '  I'll  try,'  said  he.  I 
sat  quietly  sketching,  and  he  plunged  into  water 
waist-deep.  He  rose  again,  eyes  shut,  mouth  open, 
gasping ;  then  he  fell  forward  again  into  deep,  deeper 
water,  and  did  not  rise,  and  all  was  still.  I  became 
alarmed,  took  off  my  coat,  and  dashed  in,  and  brought 
him  out,  sick  and  full  of  water,  and  laid  him  down  on 
some  grass  in  the  sun,  and  he  gradually  came  round  ; 
but  it  was  an  anxious  time,  and  he  gave  me  a  great 
scolding. 

A  pleasant  Highland  lady,  an  authoress,  Miss 
Harriet  Skene,*  came  to  stay  with  our  hostess.  She 
took  an  interest  in,  and  was  most  kind  to,  my  boy, 
and  looked  well  after  him.  One  day  Charlie  play- 
fully suggested  that  they  should  have  a  little  quarrel, 
little  dreaming  of  the  consequences.  Miss  Skene 
took  no  further  notice  of  him,  and  repelled  his 
approaches  to  friendship,  and  this  went  on  for  days. 
Charlie  became  very  unhappy.  He  had  heard  her 
admire  a  splendid  cock,  with  a  fine  dark-green  tail, 
in  the  village,  and  wish  for  such  a  plume  for  her 
hat ;  so  he  went  to  an  old  woman,  the  owner,  and 
made  friends  with  her ;  and  after  two  or  three  visits 
he  asked  for  the  cock's  tail.  She  could  not  resist,  so 
with  scissors  she  cut  off  the  fine  feathers  of  her  bird  ; 
and  Charlie  took  it  joyfully,  and  presented  it  to  his 

0  She  wrote  a  clever  novel  called  '  Martha  Bethune  Balliol.' 


198  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

goddess,  and  hoped  she  would  be  his  friend  once 
more.  '  What !'  said  she  ;  '  do  you  think  affection 
can  be  gained  by  bribery  ?'  She  would  have  none 
of  it.  He  went  away  in  a  rage,  and  threw  the 
plume  into  his  bedroom  fireplace. 

After  some  days,  as  she  was  going  to  leave,  she 
said  to  him,  '  Charlie,  let  this  be  a  warning  to  you  : 
never  begin  a  quarrel  with  a  Highlander,  and  never 
hope  to  make  it  up  by  bribery.  I'll  forgive  you  this 
time.  And  now,  as  we  are  friends  once  more,  you 
may  give  me  the  feathers.' 

Charlie  said  he'd  thrown  them  away. 

'  Where  ?'  said  she,  in  consternation. 

'  In  the  grate,'  was  his  reply. 

But  now  she  was  as  eager  to  recover  them  as 
before  she  had  disdained  them.  Luckily,  they  were 
recovered  from  the  empty  grate.  It  was  a  severe 
punishment  for  a  little  playful  joke. 

I  was  not  very  successful  in  salmon-fishing.  One 
day  I  hooked  one  and  landed  two  ;  this  was  my  best 
day.  I  generally  preferred  trout-fishing,  both  be- 
cause I  was  a  better  fisher,  and  because  I  disliked 
always  being  attended  by  an  old  Scotch  gillie,  usually 
'  a  wee  bit  fou.'  I  one  day  laughingly  asked  Sulivan 
to  cease  whistling  the  endless  tune  of  '  Over  the 
water  to  Charlie,'  sung  in  discord  from  morning  till 
night.  The  last  note  was  always  far  too  high  to  be 
in  tune.  It  turned  out  to  be  a  blackbird  in  a  cage  ! 
How  he  laughed  at  the  bad  compliment  I  paid  him  ! 

We  returned  by  Edinburgh,  where  I  purchased 
a  cairngorm  bracelet  for  my  wife. 


SIR  JOHN  COLERIDGE— '  CHRISTIAN  YEAR'      199 

[The  following  letters  belong  to  this  year.  My 
father  appears  to  have  wished  to  illustrate  Keble's 
'  Christian  Year,'  to  which  the  first  two  refer. 

George  Richmond  to  C.  W.  Cope. 

1  10,  York  Street, 

'Jan.  14,  1852. 

1  MY  DEAR  COPE, 

'  The  Judge*  sent  me  yesterday  the  enclosed, 
and  I  have  told  him  that  if  you  have  further  occasion 
to  consult  him,  you  must  do  it  without  my  interven- 
tion, as  I  know  you  would  like  him  and  he  would 
like  you.  ...  I  hope  you  have  more  light  at  Kens- 
ington than  visits  this  parish  of  Marylebone,  or  you 
will  never  get  your  pictures  done  for  the  exhibition. 
I  think  Boxall  must  be  as  nearly  mad  as  possible 
over  his  sunny  subject ;  but  this  is  only  conjecture. 
'  Ever,  my  dear  Cope, 

'  Most  faithfully  yours, 

'  GEO.   RICHMOND.' 

(ENCLOSURE.) 
frtdge  Coleridge -to  G.  Richmond. 

'Jan.  ii,  1852. 

'  MY  DEAR  RICHMOND, 

'  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  my  mission  to  Hursley 
in  respect  to  the  illustrations  has  not  been  successful. 
I  cannot  send  you  Mrs.  Keble's  letter  just  now,  as  I 
want  it  for  another  purpose,  on  business,  which  I  am 
sorry  for,  as  she  does  herself  more  justice,  or  makes 
a  better  excuse  than  I  can  very  well  make  for  her. 
It  is  a  matter  of  feeling,  however,  in  which  J.  Keble's 

*  Sir  John  Coleridge,  father  of  Lord  Coleridge. 


200  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


sister  and  some  others  participate.  With  the  "Lyra," 
however,  there  would  be  far  from  any  objection,  and 
I  do  wish  Mr.  Cope  would  think  of  it.  Of  course  it 
takes  some  time  to  insense  one's  mind  and  feelings, 
as  they  are  in  regard  to  the  "  Christian  Year  "  ;  but  if 
it  was  taken  up  now  and  then,  and  looked  at  by  an 
artist  of  his  feeling,  with  that  thought  in  his  mind,  I 
feel  pretty  sure  the  result  would  be  that  he  would 
think  it  even  better  suited  for  illustration  than  the 
"  Christian  Year."  And  as  to  the  Church  services,  I 
think  a  complete  set  might  be  selected  from  it — nay, 
even  a  fuller  one  than  from  the  "  Christian  Year,"  as 
Keble  has  allowed  himself  somewhat  of  a  greater 
latitude  than  in  the  "  Christian  Year."  Perhaps  the 
beautiful  set  on  white  apparel  would  not  suit ;  but 
you  will  see,  by  reference  to  the  contents,  what  a 
series  might  be  selected.  I  do  not  know  Mr.  Cope  ;* 
I  wish  I  did.  I  should  very  much  like  to  talk  it  over 

with  him. 

'  Yours  ever  most  truly, 

'  J.  T.  COLERIDGE.' 
W.  Dyce  to  C.  W.  Cope. 

1  The  Oaks,  Norwood, 

'Jan.  31,  1852. 
4  MY    DEAR    COPE, 

'  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  kind 
note,  which  I  found  particularly  consoling ;  for  I  also 
strolled  the  other  day  into  the  Queen's  robing-room, 
and  took  quite  a  different  view  of  the  matter.  How- 
ever, I  have  done  my  best :  I  have  aimed  at  a  certain 

*  He  did,  later,  and  was  extremely  kind  to  his  son  at  the  beginning 
of  his  Oxford  career. 


STARCH  IN  FRESCO-PAINTING 


obvious  truthfulness  of  effect  ;  and,  from  what  you 
say,  I  suppose  I  have  been  to  a  certain,  extent  suc- 
cessful. I  am  now  going  to  peg  away  at  these  works, 
and  (what  I  ought  to  have  done  at  first)  make  the 
room  my  studio,  and  work  at  them  continuously,  pre- 
paring cartoons  and  all  on  the  spot.  Barry  is  to 
facilitate  this  by  giving  me  a  door  to  myself .  .  .  and 
I  move  my  traps  there  on  Wednesday — the  day  after 
the  ceremony  of  opening  Parliament.  There  is  a 
good  deal  of  distemper  and  semi-distemper  on  the 
picture,  but  the  best  parts  are  entirely  in  fresco.  By 
semi-distemper  I  mean  colour  put  on  with  a  tempera 
before  the  intonaco  is  dry — i.e.,  on  the  second  day  — 
the  tempera  being  a  weak  solution  of  starch.  The 
use  of  starch  is  my  grand  discovery.  It  forms  with 
lime  an  insoluble  compound,  and  may  be  used  with 
all  the  colours.  It  really  removes  all  difficulty  in  the 
use  of  ultramarine,  which  was  wont  to  drive  me 
frantic  ;  it  causes  ultramarine  to  adhere  even  when  it 
has  no  lime  mixed  with  it,  and  when  the  intonaco 
has  become  half  dry,  which  you  know  is  out  of  the 
question  if  water  only  be  used,  and  nearly  as  much 
so  with  egg  and  vinegar.  .  .  .  By-and-by  I  hope  you 
and  Mrs.  Cope  will  come  and  see  us  for  a  day  or  two, 
for  of  course  this  is  too  far  for  a  day  and  dinner  ;  and 
we  have  a  spare  room  for  pilgrims.  .  .  . 

'  Yours  faithfully, 

•W.  DYCE.'] 

1853. — Pictures  :  i.  'Othello  relating  his  Adven- 
tures to  Desdemona ' — a  commission  from  Mr. 
Barlow,  of  Ardwick,  near  Manchester.  2.  '  The 


202  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Page  ' — a  girl  giving  a  (love)  letter  to  a  page  ;  com- 
mission from  Mr.  Phillips,  Heath  House,  Stafford- 
shire. 3.  '  Mother  and  Child,'  for  Mr.  Sheepshanks. 
4.  '  The  Mother's  Kiss  ' ;  not  sold.  4  and  5.  Small 
heads,  of  Eugenie  Sulivan — painted  in  Italy  in  1834, 
when  she  was  seven  years  old — and  of  '  Greta '  Bell, 
her  daughter,  aged  five  :  presented  to  my  friend 
Sulivan.  All  these  were  exhibited  at  the  Royal 
Academy. 

The  Cadogans,  of  Brinkburn  Priory,  had  most 
kindly  and  hospitably  pressed  me  to  make  use  of 
their  house  in  the  North  whilst  they  were  absent  in 
town  for  the  season,  as  the  fishing  was  at  its  best  ; 
and  as  I  should  feel  dull  all  alone,  to  ask  a  friend  to 
go  with  me.  My  old  friend  Arthur  Glennie  was  in 
England,  and  he  accompanied  me.  We  had  a  most 
enjoyable  excursion.  We  lived  mostly  in  the 
library,  and  the  housekeeper  looked  after  our  com- 
forts. I  spent  the  day  chiefly  in  trout-fishing,  with 
the  keeper,  Stobie,  as  a  companion  and  rival  with 
the  rod.  I  think  he  could  beat  me  at  minnow- 
trolling,  and  I  was  best  with  fly-fishing.  One  day, 
when  we  stopped  for  lunch,  I  asked  Stobie  to  show 
his  catch,  and  he  turned  out  a  fine  lot,  to  which  I 
added  nearly  a  basketful.  Finding  that  the  mail- 
cart  would  pass  by  in  an  hour,  I  got  him  to  pack 
them  up  all  together  with  primroses  and  grass  in  his 
basket,  and  we  sent  them  to  the  Cadogans  at  Eaton 
Square,  London,  where  they  arrived  next  morning. 
They  lasted  three  days.  Glennie  sketched  mostly, 
not  being  a  sportsman. 


BRINKBURN  PRIORY— CHEVIOT  HILLS  203 

After  about  a  fortnight  at  Brinkburn  we  made  our 
way  to  our  old  quarters  in  the  hills  at  Burra  Burn, 
where  we  lived  at  the  farmer's  cottage,  with  the 
handsome  niece  as  housekeeper.  She  was  still 
bonny,  and  gave  us  nice  wheaten  bread  and  oat- 
cake, tea,  eggs,  milk,  and  butter  in  abundance,  and 
I  provided  fish.  After  about  a  week  we  began  to 
long  for  meat,  so  we  walked  over  (five  miles)  to 
Allington  (?)  on  Sunday  to  church,  and  afterwards 
adjourned  to  the  little  inn,  and  dined  sumptuously 
on  small  chops  (about  a  dozen)  and  drank  some 
beer ;  and,  oh,  how  renovated  we  were !  We  took 
long  walks,  and  being  one  day  on  the  Cheviot  Hills, 
Glennie  began  a  panoramic  outline  of  the  distance 
northwards,  which  was  very  clear.  I  was  lying  on 
my  back  in  the  sun,  and  I  remarked  to  him  that  I 
smelt  smoke — did  he  ?  '  No,'  he  said  ;  '  but  during 
the  last  half-  hour  a  mist  has  spread  over  the 
northern  outlines.'  This  was  from  the  smoke  of 
Newcastle,  some  fifty  miles  distant !  We  stopped  at 
Warkworth  Castle  en  route,  and  visited  the  hermit's 
cave  in  the  rocky  cliff  of  Coquet.  Warkworth  was 
the  stronghold  of  the  Percys  in  the  Border  wars 
with  Scotland,  and  the  Percy  lion  still  threatens  its 
enemies. 

It  was  in  this  year,  in  the  autumn,  that  I  had  a 
critical  and  severe  illness  from  an  internal  tumour. 

My  usual  medico  was  absent,  and  a  Mr.  S came 

instead,  a  homoeopath.  My  pains  were  severe,  and 
for  a  fortnight  I  got  no  better,  but  grew  thinner  and 
weaker,  as  I  could  swallow  no  food  without  renewing 


204  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

the  pain.  I  daily  crawled  to  a  sofa,  and  was  much 
interested  in  seeing  the  reflection  of  my  face  as  I 
passed  a  looking-glass.  All  the  fat  was  absorbed, 
my  eyes  looked  larger  and  sunk,  the  cheek  bones 
were  prominent,  and  I  realized  how  I  should  look 
when  dead.  One  day  my  friend  Boxall  called,  and 
seemed  shocked.  He  went  away,  and  asked  Henry 
C.  Johnson,,  of  St.  George's  Hospital,  to  come  and 
see  me.  The  two  doctors  met.  Johnson  pressed 

firmly  and  gently  the  swelling,  and  said  to  S 

'It's  compressible.'  S said,  'Yes,  very  sen- 
sitive !'  Johnson  prescribed  a  strong  dose,  and 

departed.     S remained,  and  begged  me  not  to 

take  more  than  half,  or  I  should  be  a  dead  man.  It 
was  awkward  :  one  said  if  I  did  not  take  the  full 
dose  I  should  die  ;  the  other,  that  if  I  did  it  would 

kill  me.      I  decided  to  take  it,  so  S retired  from 

the  case,  and  consequently  I  gradually  recovered. 
Johnson's  kindness  I  can  never  forget.  Three 
times  a  day  he  came  at  first,  and  (after  my 
recovery)  Boxall  told  me  he  was  not  sanguine  that 

I   should  survive.      I  sometimes  met  S in  the 

streets  afterwards,  and  he  called  me  the  'prodigy.' 
I  continued  to  see  Johnson  weekly  for  months,  till 
he  pronounced  me  'safe,'  and  sent  me  to  Worthing. 
What  kindness  I  received  from  friends !  How  I 
recollect  the  beautiful  clove-carnations  in  the  sunny 
window,  sent  by  Lady  Caroline  Lascelles,  and  the 
fruit,  and  how  sweet  returning  strength  and  life 
seemed,  and  how  pleasant  the  drives  with  my 
dearest  wife  in  the  parks,  and  her  silent  thankful 


DOCTORS  DIFFER  205 


happiness  !  It  was  a  blessed  time  !  When  I  was 
able  to  sit  up,  I  asked  for  palette  and  colours,  and 
painted  for  about  an  hour  a  day,  and  finished  a 
small  picture,  called  '  Baby's  Turn,'  from  my 
children  Emily  and  Charlotte  Ellen.  A  daughter, 
Beatrice,  was  born  July  20  ;  died  August  15. 

1854. —  Pictures  exhibited:  i.  'The  Friends,' 
Charlie  and  Charlotte  Ellen  looking  over  the  pictures 
in  '  Robinson  Crusoe';  bought  by  J.  H.  Robinson  to 
engrave,  but  he  did  not  live  to  complete  it.  2. 
'  Baby's  Turn/  done  on  recovering  from  illness. 
Cartoon  and  fresco  of  '  Lara,'  from  Byron,  for  Upper 
Waiting  Hall  ;  and  small  sketch  in  oil,  sold  to 
Glasgow  Art  Union.  These  were  not  exhibited. 

In  the  autumn  wife  and  I  took  our  usual  holiday 
together,  and  went  to  Swanage.  Whilst  there, 
young  Mr.  Bankes,  of  Studland,  fresh  from  Cam- 
bridge, found  us  out,  and  used  to  ride  over  to  see  us. 
He  pressed  us  to  go  to  his  uncle's  seat  at  Kingston 
Lacy  to  see  his  fine  collection  of  pictures.  We 
sailed  over  in  the  revenue  cutter  to  Poole  Harbour, 
and  then  went  on  to  meet  young  Bankes,  and 
enjoyed  seeing  the  gallery  much.  After  luncheon  ( I 
think)  we  went  over  to  Wimborne  Minster,  and 
then  to  Poole,  where  the  revenue  cutter  waited  to 
take  us  home.  Through  my  recommendation,  many 
of  the  finest  pictures  were  afterwards  kindly  lent  to 
the  Old  Masters  Exhibition  at  the  Royal  Academy. 
1855. — Exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  :  i.  'Royal 
Prisoners,'  Charles  I.'s  daughter,  Princess  Eliza- 
beth, discovered  by  her  young  brother  and  a 


206  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

guard  lying  dead  in  the  prison  window  at  Caris- 
brooke,  her  head  resting  on  an  open  Bible.  2. 
'  Penserosa,'  a  gentle  girl  reading  as  she  walks. 
This  picture  I  presented  to  Henry  Johnson,  Esq., 
as  a  slight  acknowledgment  of  his  great  and  gra- 
tuitous skill  and  kindness.*  3.  '  Consolation,'  a 
child  trying  to  wipe  the  tears  from  her  mother's 
face,  a  map  of  Sebastopol  on  the  table  ;  a  commis- 
sion from  Mr.  Arden.  Painted  a  repetition  of 
'  Othello  and  Desdemona '  for  the  Duchess  of 
Sutherland,  for  placing  at  Cliveden.  When  this 
was  completed,  I  wrote  to  her  grace  to  say  so.  A 
gentleman  called  one  day,  a  Mr.  Leather,  of  Leeds, 
and  saw  it  in  my  studio  and  wished  to  possess  it.  I 
told  him  it  was  a  commission,  and  not  to  be  had, 
and  that  I  had  written  to  the  future  possessor  to  say 
the  picture  was  finished,  but  I  had  as  yet  received 
no  answer.  Said  he,  '  How  long  will  you  wait — a 
month  or  two  ?'  I  said,  '  Yes,  six.'  I  meant  this 
for  a  negative,  but  he  quickly  said,  '  I'll  wait  for  six 
months.'  After  that  time  had  elapsed  he  came 
again  and  claimed  my  promise,  and  I  let  him  have 
the  picture.  Some  months  later  I  received  a  note 
of  apology  from  the  Duchess,  regretting  that,  owing 
to  my  note  having  been  mislaid,  etc.  Of  course 
I  told  her  the  whole  truth,  and  so  the  matter  ended. 
A  son,  Henry  Benning,  born  August  18,  1855. 

1856. — Did  not  exhibit  at  Royal  Academy  (being 
one  of  the  Hanging  Committee  this  year).     I  painted 

*  Left  by  him  to  the  present  possessor,  Edmund  Charles  Johnson, 
Esq.,  of  Eaton  Place. 


THE  'PILGRIM  FATHERS'  207 

in  oil  a  picture  of  the  '  Embarkation  of  a  Puritan 
Family  for  New  England'  (Pilgrim  Fathers),  to  be 
placed  in  one  of  the  compartments  in  the  Peers' 
Corridor  ;  but  as  it  was  discovered  that  the  windows 
caused  a  shine  on  the  surface,  it  was  decided*  to 
substitute  the  dull  surface  of  fresco.  I  therefore 
repainted  the  subject  in  fresco.  The  original  picture 
(exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy  the  following  year) 
and  a  smaller  repetition  were  sold  to  Lloyd,  a  dealer, 
who  failed,  and  the  picture  was  returned  to  me. 
From  the  repetition  a  very  bad  engraving  was  made 
for  Lloyd  (or  Graves  ?).  Possibly  Lloyd  sold  the 
copy  and  engraved  plate  to  Graves  for  publication. 
The  only  impression  I  ever  saw  was  exhibited  in 
Graves'  window.  [The  large  picture  was  afterwards 
sent  to  America,  where  it  excited  great  interest ;  and 
Mr.  Cope  was  made  an  honorary  member  of  the 
Philadelphian  Academy  of  Arts,  and  had  some  cor- 
respondence with  a  Mr.  Caleb  Cope  of  that  place, 
who  wrote  to  inquire  whether  he  could  claim  any 
family  connection  with  him.]  Subsequently  (in  1 864) 
it  was  purchased  by  the  Government  of  Victoria,  to 
form  the  beginning  of  a  national  gallery  at  Mel- 
bourne, and  was  removed  from  Kensington  on 
August  1 8. 

[The  diary  for  this  year  contains,  amongst  other 
entries,  the  following:  '  Began  to  serve  on  the  Council 
of  the  Royal  Academy.  Paintings  in  hand  :  "  Pilgrim 
Fathers,"  nearly  completed ;  "  Open  your  Mouth  and 
shut  your  Eyes  "  ;  "  Cordelia,"  commenced. 

*  See  letters. 


208  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

'  Wednesday,  Jamiary  23.  —  General  meeting, 
Royal  Academy.  Appointed  select  committee  to 
consider  state  of  schools,  to  arrange  an  architectural 
class,  etc. 

'  Thursday,  2^tk. —  Dined  at  Sulivan's.  Lady 
Shakerly. 

'Friday,  2$th. — Lady  Shakerly  called  with  Mrs. 
Sulivan. 

'  Saturday,  261/1.  —  Left  London  by  railway  to 
Tring.  Walked  to  Dunstable.  On  the  top  of  the 
downs  a  heavy  storm  of  rain.  Sheltered  for  an  hour 
under  a  quickset  hedge.  Beautiful  effect  of  cloud 
passing  away  and  light  gradually  increasing  till  sun 
broke  out. 

'Monday,  2%th. — Drove  to  Dagnall.  Walked  by 
Ashridge,  Northchurch,  and  Berkhampstead  to 
Bovingdon.*  Saw  the  church ;  modern  flint. 
Beautiful  morning  and  frosty,  afterwards  cloudy 
and  soft,  and  miry  roads.  Dined  at  Boxmoor,  and 
home  in  the  evening  by  rail.  .  .  . 

'  Saturday,  February  2. — First  meeting  of  Royal 
Academy.  Select  committee  to  inquire  into  state 
of  schools,  etc.  Members  :  Eastlake,  Dyce,  Cope, 
Mulready,  McDowell ;  R.  Westmacott  and  Leslie 
added.  Barry,  Cockerell,  and  Hardwick,  archi- 
tects. .  .  . 

'  Wednesday,  \^th. — Dined  with  Mr.  Anderdon, 
a  party  of  ten  gentlemen.  Anecdotes  of  Cobbett 
and  his  times.  Sat  next  to  Mr.  -  —  (?),  whom  I 

*  Where  he  had  been  asked  to  design  a  memorial  window. 


ROYAL  ACADEMY  REFORMS,  ETC.  209 

promised  to  call  upon  and  see  some  of  his  Turners 
and  Gainsborough  drawings. 

'  Sunday,  24^. — Church  in  morning.  After  four 
Eastlake  called,  and  criticised  picture  ;  suggested 
various  little  changes.  Remarked  on  the  necessity 
of  luminous  reflections,  if  a  picture  is  to  be  warm 
and  sunny  and  warmer  than  the  lights,  and  so  to 
support  them ;  and  said  that  Leonardo  da  Vinci 
added  red  in  the  depths  of  his  shadows  in  drawing, 
but  not  on  lips  and  cheek.  Stanhope  Busby*  to 
tea. 

'  Wednesday,  27 th. — Committee  meeting  in  evening. 
Sir  C.  Barry  read  a  report  of  the  architect's  sub- 
committee on  the  School  of  Architecture  and  the 
reforms  necessary. 

'  Thursday,  i%th. — Called  at  National  Gallery  with 
wife  to  see  the  new  Paul  Veronese.  Then  went  on 
to  Somers  Clarke,  the  architect,  and  visited  a  glass- 
stainer  about  the  window  (Bovingdon).  Saw 
Clarke's  building  for  the  straw  bonnet  merchants  in 
Wood  Street,  Cheapside.  Sale  of  Mr.  Birch's 
pictures  realized  ,£10,000.  Maclise's  'Baron's  Hall,' 
1,000  guineas. 

'  Friday,  igtk. — Worked  on  design  of  window  for 
Bovingdon  in  the  evening. 

'  Wednesday,  March  5. — Council  meeting,  Royal 
Academy.  Report  of  the  second  reading  of  Hotel 
Bill  to  be  erected  on  site  of  National  Gallery. 
Discussion,  and  determination  to  leave  President  to 

*  Son  of  his  old  friend  at  Brighton,  and  afterwards  Town  Clerk  of 
Derby. 

14 


2io  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

act  according  to  circumstances.  Also  the  Turner 
Will  case  came  on,  and  he  was  authorized  to  claim  a 
share  in  the  compromise. 

'  ^Saturday,  %th. — Called  on  Richmond.    He  poorly, 
and  would  not  show  his  pictures. 

'Monday,  iot/1. — Etching  Club.  Received  Holman 
Hunt  into  the  club.  Interesting  evening.  Details 
of  Sebastopol,  Jerusalem,  etc. 

'  Tuesday,  i  \th. — Mr.  Grant,  of  Elchies,  called  with 
Mr.  Sulivan.  Committee  meeting  of  Royal  Aca- 
demy. Heard  amended  report  of  architect's  sug- 
gestions ;  then  discussed  details  of  School  of 
Painting,  but  could  not  agree,  Leslie  and  I  differing 
greatly  about  the  teaching  of  painting ;  I  in  favour 
of  one  master  only. 

<'Th^lrsday,  \$th. — -Painted  in  the  morning.  After- 
wards attended  Athenaeum  Club  general  meeting, 
and  rejected  unanimously  both  plans  for  enlarging 
the  club.  Went  with  Boxall  to  National  Gallery, 
and  discussed  the  new  P.  Veronese,  etc. 

'Friday,  \^th. — Council,  Royal  Academy.  The 
President  reported  proceedings  taken  to  oppose 
Imperial  Hotel  Company.  The  Prince  disapproved 
of  our  taking  legal  steps,  and  the  Secretary  to  the 
Treasury  assured  him  that  there  was  no  intention  to 
allow  the  Bill  to  pass,  and  that  we  had  no  reason  for 
the  least  disquiet,  as  the  Royal  Academy  had  the 
Government's  pledge  that  we  should  have  an  equi- 
valent. Also  decided  the  Turner  Will  question. 
The  nation  to  have  the  pictures  and  drawings  also 
(through  the  stipulation  of  the  Royal  Academy),  the 


^   TURNER'S  WILL,  ETC.  211 

Royal  Academy  to  have  ^"20,000,  and  the  rest  to  go 
to  the  next  of  kin. 

'Saturday,  \$th. — Dined  with  Horace  Watson. 
D.  Burton,  Mr.  Twopenny,  Pemberton-Leigh,  etc., 
present.  .  .  . 

'Monday,  April']. — Visitors  dropped  in  all  day, 
although  I  do  not  exhibit  this  year.  Mr.  Christie 
asked  me  to  paint  him  a  picture  of  moderate  size. 

'  Titesday,  %th. — 'Rainy  day.  Joined  Etching  Club 
in  an  excursion  to  Maidenhead.  Staghounds  meet- 
ing at  the  thicket.  Poor  stag  quite  tame  and  feeble, 
a  sad  failure.  Walked  to  Bray.  Conversation  with 
Redgrave.  We  agreed  about  the  necessity  of  some 
coalition  between  Government  and  Royal  Academy, 
and  he  said  he  was  sure  it  could  be  arranged. 

'  Wednesday,  C)th. — Commenced  sitting  on  pictures 
for  exhibition  at  Royal  Academy.  Sir  C.  Eastlake 
spoke  to  me  privately  of  his  wish,  and  that  of  the 
Treasurer,  that  I  should  take  the  office  of  Keeper, 
and  proposed  an  increase  of  salary  of  ^50,  making 
it  ^250  and  the  house  and  coals,  etc.,  worth  ^450 
altogether.  After  dinner  proposed  visitors  (to  the 
banquet),  and  I  named  Carlyle,  and  Barlow  of 
Manchester. 

'  Thursday,  \o>th. — Council  sitting  all  day.  Had  a 
discussion  with  Sir  R.  Westmacott,  and  Sir  C. 
Eastlake  joined  us.  The  former  strongly  opposed 
to  any  connection  with  Government.  The  latter 
seemingly  in  favour  of  it  to  a  very  limited  extent, 
viz.,  that  we  should  be  referred  to  on  questions 
of  art. 


212  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

'Friday,  I  \th. — Sat  on  pictures  all  day.  Enormous 
number  of  small  bad  landscapes. 

'  Saturday,  i2th, — Council  of  Royal  Academy;  sat 
on  pictures  and  sculpture  till  two  o'clock.  After 
luncheon  commenced  hanging  (self,  Ward,  and 
Cousins,  Hanging  Committee).  After  dinner  dis- 
cussed affairs  of  Royal  Academy.  Lee  acceded  to 
my  view  of  a  coalition  between  School  of  Design 
and  Royal  Academy. 

'Monday,  \\th. — Began  to  hang  the  Royal  Aca- 
demy pictures.  Ten  or  eleven  members'  works 
absent,  so  more  room  for  non-members'  pictures.  .  .  . 

'Friday,  2$th. —  Finished  hanging  the  pictures. 
Ward  and  Cousins,  my  colleagues,  done  up.  We 
agreed,  however,  very  well  together,  and  tried  to  do 
justice.  Steamed  to  Chelsea  and  back  before 
dinner. 

'Monday,  2%tk.  —  At  the  Royal  Academy,  mem- 
bers' private  view  for  four  days.  Everyone  seemed 
contented  with  the  hanging,  with  one  very  small 
exception. 

'  Thursday,  May  I. — The  Queen  and  suite  visited 
Royal  Academy.  Duke  of  Cambridge  there  pri- 
vately first,  indignant  at  the  rejection  of  his  portrait. 
Prince  Albert  arranged  to  come  to  my  studio.  Very 
cold,  windy  day  ;  went  off  very  well,  however. 
Discussions  afterwards  about  admitting  dealers. 

'  Friday,  2nd.  —  Private  view,  Royal  Academy. 
People  seemed  all  pleased  with  arrangement  and 
look  of  exhibition.  Gave  cards  of  admission  to 
Miss  Skene,  Lizzie  Benning,  and  Miss  McPherson- 


PICTURE  HANGING  213 

Grant,  who  did  not  go.  Lunched  at  Royal  Aca- 
demy, and  met  Mrs.  Richmond. 

'  Saturday,  yd. — Dinner  at  the  Royal  Academy. 
Sat  next  to  Lords  Grey  and  Stanhope,  and  opposite 
Lord  Redesdale.  Talked  with  the  first  a  good  deal 
about  Royal  Academy  matters.  .  .  . 

'  Tuesday,  6tk. — Prince  Albert  came  in  the  after- 
noon (to  see  picture  of  '  Pilgrim  Fathers ') ;  stayed 
about  an  hour,  seemed  pleased. 

'Saturday,  \Qth. — Lord  Stanhope  called  to  see 
picture  for  Westminster  ('  Pilgrim  Fathers  ')  Ob- 
jected historically  to  inscription  on  flag,  but 
approved  artistically.  '  Liberty  of  religion,'  he 
asserted,  had  not  then  been  discovered.  Talked 
about  the  other  subjects,  and  said  that  the  entrance 
of  Charles  I.  into  the  House  of  Commons  in  itself 
was  a  breach  of  privilege. 

'Friday,  i6t/i. — Committee  in  the  evening  at  Royal 
Academy.  Passed  proposition  relating  to  laws 
admitting  students,  and  discussed  various  sugges- 
tions. Mulready  in  favour  of  having  a  building  of 
our  own. 

'  Sunday,  \%th. — Band  stopped  in  the  park.  Great 
crowds  of  discontented  people,  and  many  snobs. 

'  Friday,  2$rd. — Went  with  Emily  to  Ramsgate. 
Rail  from  Fenchurch  Street  to  Tilbury,  then  steam- 
boat. 

'  Saturday,  2^tk. — Rambled  over  to  Pegwell  Bay 
and  made  sketch.  Captain  Hathorn*  dropped  in, 

*  Well  known  in  R.N.  as  'Gerry  Hathorn.'  Then  Harbour-master 
at  Folkestone,  afterwards  Admiral.  He  and  Mr.  Banning  of  Dunstable 
married  two  sisters  (McDouall). 


214  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

and  we  dined  together.     Saw  him  off  by  railway  in 
evening. 

'  Monday,  26tk. — Returned  from  Ramsgate  to  Lon- 
don. Beautiful  day.  Lord  Brougham  on  board  from 
Margate.  Council  of  Royal  Academy  in  evening. 

"  Thursday,  igtk.- — Grand  illuminations  and  fire- 
works in  evening  to  celebrate  the  Peace.  Charlie  and 
I  went  to  Primrose  Hill,  and  called  for  the  others 
afterwards  at  twelve  o'clock  at  Buckingham  Gate, 
at  Knight's. 

'  Saturday,  $ist. — Moved  fresco-traps  and  picture 
of  Puritans  to  Westminster  in  a  van. 

'  Monday,  June  2. — Had  the  first  of  the  portable 
wall-frames  fixed  up  in  new  studio  at  Westminster. 

'  Tuesday,  $rd.  —  Fixed  tracing  and  "  settled 
down,"  and  mixed  tints  for  sky,  etc. 

'  Wednesday,  \th.  —  Began  fresco  of  Puritans. 
Stevens,  the  plasterer,  had  laid  a  ground,  but  when  I 
arrived  it  was  too  wet  to  work  upon.  I  waited  till 
twelve  or  one,  and  then  gave  it  up.  The  floated  coat, 
being  mixed  with  Bristol  lime  and  strong  flinty  sand, 
was  like  rock,  and  would  not  absorb  any  water. 

'  Thursday,  $th. — Ground  very  wet,  but  began  sky 
and  buildings  to  the  left  about   eleven    or    twelve 
Ground  very  bad  ;  the  least  touch  in   the  morning 
tore  it  up,  and  then  afterwards  it  got  too  dry. 

'  Friday,  6tk. — Maybee  the  plasterer  has  had  the 
ground  made  harder  in  order  to  bear  the  carriage 
better.  Too  hard  for  working  on,  as  there  is  no 
suction.  The  old  grounds  were  composed  of  com- 
mon lime  and  loamy  sand. 


DETAILS  OF  FRESCO-PAINTING  215 

(Hence  onwards  to  August  21 — '  Finished  fresco' 
—are  details  of  the  daily  work,  mostly  technical.) 

'June  20. — Committee,  Royal  Academy.  Eastlake 
walked  a  little  way  with  me,  and  told  me  that  Hard- 
wick  thought  my  keepership  scheme  not  feasible. 
Eastlake  advised  me  not  to  take  it. 

'  Thursday,  Augiist  21. — Finished  fresco.  Put  in 
small  piece  of  black  apron  and  bands  (cut  out 
previously).  Touched  up  with  silicate  of  potass. 
Experiments  made  with  this  seem  successful.  If 
used  diluted  with  distilled  water,  the  colours  will  not 
adhere  well  without  a  varnish  afterwards  with  the 
same,  or  stronger  ;  but  if  undiluted,  it  shines. 

'  Friday,  22nd. — Designed  window  for  Bovingdon. 
Visited  National  Gallery  to  see  new  P.  Perugino, 
etc.  Then  to  Westminster.  Touched  on  fresco  with 
silicate  of  potass  (given  me  by  Prince  Albert).  It 
seems  to  stick  well  when  undiluted,  but  is  difficult  to 
use  without  dilution.  White  adheres  very  well,  and 
dries  without  shine. 

'  Tuesday,  26tk.  —  Poor  a  Becket*  in  greatest 
danger  from  typhus  ;  boy  dead.  .  .  . 

'Monday,  September  i. — Went  to  Sonning,  Berks, 
and  took  lodgings  for  self  and  wife.  She  to  come 
next  day.  Got  boat  of  Mr.  Field's  (which  he  lent 
me)  from  Sadler,  at  the  lock  -  house.  Drank  tea 
with  Mrs.  Haden  ;t  charming  woman,  and  nice 
children. 

*  Of  Punch.     They  lived  just  opposite  us,  and  we  saw  much  of 
them. 

f  Wife  of  Seymour  Haden  and  sister  of  J.  Whistler. 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


'  Tuesday,  2nd.  —  Wife  arrived.  Lodgings  very  old 
and  ruinous,  but  excellent  landlady  ;  close  to  river 
Thames.  Fished  and  read,  sketched  a  little  for  a 
fortnight. 

'Monday,  \^th.  —  Mr.  Pearson*  called.    Nice  fellow. 

'  Tuesday,  i6tk.  —  Left  for  Isle  of  Wight. 

'  Tuesday,  30^.  —  Returned  home  from  pleasant 
fortnight  at  Isle  of  Wight,  Sea  View. 

'  Wednesday,  October  i  .  —  Sat  a  figure  in  Life 
School  of  Painting  at  Royal  Academy  for  medal. 

'  Wednesday,  \$th.  —  Sat  a  second  figure  of  sleeping 
girl  in  School  of  Painting  for  medal  students.  Beau- 
tiful piece  of  colour.  .  .  . 

'  Thursday,  $otk.  —  Fine  day.  Went  to  Westminster 
to  see  the  fresco  of  "  Pilgrims  "  in  its  place  in  Peers' 
Corridor.  It  had  been  removed  without  any  injury, 
to  my  great  content.  I  suppose  the  slate  and  frame- 
work weighed  about  2  tons.  I  thought  it  looked 
very  well.  Eastlake  told  me  it  was  charming. 
Many  people  lingered  to  see  it,  so  I  escaped  from 
their  notice,  after  giving  the  principal  workman  IDS. 
WTife  was  with  me,  and  to  celebrate  the  day  I  took 
her  to  Oxford  Street  and  presented  her  with  a  sable 
boa  and  cuffs.  Home  in  great  spirits  and  thankful- 
ness, and  with  more  heart  to  go  on  with  next  fresco. 

'  Monday,  November  3.  —  Bad  cold  and  cough. 
Drew  mostly  all  day  studies  for  "  Burial  of  Charles 
I.,"  from  Rossi  (model).  General  meeting  of  Royal 
Academy  in  evening.  I  made  a  small  speech  in 
proposing  alteration  of  the  law  relating  to  the  form 

*  Vicar  of  Sonning. 


MOVABLE  FRESCO— R.A.  MATTERS       2.17 

of  candidates  expressing  their  desire  to  become 
members,  objecting  strongly  to  the  necessity  of  an 
annual  obligation.  Carried. 

'Saturday,  \$th. — Left  town  for  Brent  Pelham  Hall 
to  visit  Hallams  and  join  wife  and  two  children 
there.  Beautiful  sunny  day  ;  trees  full  of  leaves, 
and  rich  in  colour.  Rode  in  afternoon  on  horseback. 

'Sunday,  i6tk. — Capital  sermon  from  Vicar,  Mr. 
Gibson  (formerly  curate  of  Barnard  Castle),  on 
distinction  between  common  sorrow  and  godly 
sorrow  "  which  worketh  repentance."  Love  of  God's 
character  and  holiness  leads  to  sorrow  for  our  own 
impurity  ;  repentance  is  the  result  of  godly  sorrow. 

'Monday,  ijtk. — Left  Brent  Pelham  Hall.  Cold 
and  frosty  morning.  Wife  and  children  in  Hallam's 
carriage.  Arrived  home  in  a  fog.  Called  at  Lavers' 
to  see  window.  Colours  not  very  good.  Dined  at 
Athenaeum  Club,  and  attended  as  visitor  in  Life 
School.  Sat  Thompson  ;  tall  fine  fellow,  pose  not 
very  good  from  being  in  a  hurry.  Number  of 
students  about  sixteen,  and  very  bad  draughtsmen. 

'  Tuesday,  \%th. — Painted  on  Cordelia's  head  and 
.throat  from  a  model,  Miss  Mortimer — a  pretty  girl, 
but  not  Cordelia.  Answered  H—  — 's  note  about 
window,  and  wished  him  to  pay  Lavers  on  account 
^40.  This  window  is  a  troublesome  and  unprofit- 
able business.  Royal  Academy  Life  School  in 
evening.  Drawings  very  bad  indeed.'] 

Wifie  and  I  took  a  holiday  at  Sonning,  on  the 
Thames,  where  Seymour  Haden  had  taken  a  cottage 
for  the  summer  for  his  family.  He  and  I  occasion- 


2i8  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

ally  fished  for  chub  with  a  large  fly,  and  had 
success.  One  day  he  thoughtlessly  threw  his  fly 
over  some  ducks,  and  one  of  them  bolted  it,  and  a 
long  struggle  he  had  to  wind  it  in.  The  duck  was 
hurt,  and  the  owner  complained  and  showed  the 
poor  bird  suffering  in  its  shed,  and  his  children 
crying  over  it.  When  Haden  offered  to  pay  for  it, 
the  man  asked  whether  '  money  would  alleviate  the 
creature's  misery.'  It  was  a  brood  duck  and  too  old 
to  be  eaten,  and  was  a  great  favourite.  It  was  quite 
a  cottage  tragedy.  At  the  lock  lived  the  lock-keeper, 
Sadler,  a  noted  bee-master,  and  a  poet.  He  was  parish 
clerk  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Pearson,  a  most  excellent,  clever 
and  large-minded  clergyman,  who  was  very  kind  to  us. 
I  asked  the  clerk  whether  Sonning  was  not  a  very 
damp  place.  '  I  think  not  unhealthy,'  said  he,  'for 
we  get  very  few  funerals!  A  very  professional 
estimate.  I  used  to  let  the  boat  drift  down  the 
gentle  current,  and  fished  under  the  bushes  with  a 
long  fly-line,  and  caught  big  chub,  which  the  country 
folk  liked  to  cook  and  eat,  cut  into  slices  and  fried. 
We  tried  one,  but  thought  it  very  weedy,  notwith- 
standing Izaak  Walton's  directions  how  to  cook  it, 
which  we  followed.  We  went  from  Sonning  to  Sea 
View,  in  the  Isle  of  Wight,  for  a  fortnight  before 
returning  home  in  September. 

In  November  I  joined  my  wife  and  two  children 
at  Brent  Pelham  Hall,  the  residence  of  my  old  friends 
(of  Sorrento),  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hallam,  whose  infant 
son  I  had  painted  at  Florence.  I  used  to  have  him 
brought  to  my  rooms  by  his  French  nurse  (a  superior 


CHUB-FISHING—HARD  NUTS  219 

woman)  early  in  the  day.  She  brought  with  her  his 
breakfast  of  milk,  etc.  He  was  then  undressed  and 
placed  on  a  chamois  skin,  and  she  gave  him  his  meal 
cleverly  and  lengthily,  while  I  painted  him.  The 
picture  was  a  success,  though  finished  in  a  week. 
When  the  child  resumed  his  ordinary  life,  for  a  time 
he  refused  his  breakfast  unless  all  his  clothes  were 
taken  off.  Young  Hallam  grew  up  to  be  a  fine 
fellow,  entered  the  army,  and  died  of  illness  in  the 
Crimea  during  the  siege  of  Sebastopol.  While 
staying  with  the  Hallams,  we  had  to  go  out  to 
dinner  with  one  of  their  friends,  some  miles  distant. 
The  hostess  was  an  old  lady  of  eighty  or  more  years 
of  age.  At  dessert  a  question  was  asked  whether 
some  nuts  on  the  table  were  cob-nuts  or  filberts. 
The  old  lady  said,  '  Send  them  up  to  me.'  She 
declined  the  nut  -  crackers,  and  cracked  the  hard 
shells  with  her  teeth.  An  old  General  sitting  near 
her  said,  '  Good  God,  madam  !'  We  all  laughed,  as 
did  the  hostess. 


[    220    ] 


CHAPTER   VII. 

FRESCO-PAINTING,    DUDDON    VALLEY,    ETC. 

-  —  Besides  finishing  the  replica  of  'Pilgrim 
Fathers,'  I  exhibited  a  small  picture,  '  Breakfast- 
time,  Morning  Games,'  for  Mr.  Eaton,*  and  a  little 
sketch,  '  Affronted.'  (C.  E.  cross  with  her  dinner, 
because  the  meat  was  put  'on  the  wrong  side'  of 
her  plate,  as  a  lesson  to  her  not  to  be  dainty.) 
This  was  engraved  without  leave  for  Lloyd,  and 
bought  by  Mr.  Colls.  In  fresco  I  executed  the 
'Burial  of  Charles  I.'  at  Windsor — the  'White 
Funeral,'  as  it  was  called,  as  a  heavy  snowstorm 
fell  at  the  time. 

[Diary  for  1857  :  '  Saturday,  January  3. — Dined  at 
Sir  B.  Hawes'  at  eight.  Colonel  Tulloch  and  Lady  (?) 
Doyle  and  son,  etc.  ;  a  very  pleasant  evening  and 
capital  dinner. 

'Monday,  $t/i. — Glennieand  Samuel  Palmer  dined 
with  us  ;  children  rehearsed  "  Bombastes  Furioso"- 
C.  and  E.,  and  Willie  Richmond  and  More  Palmer. 

'Friday,  qth. — Council  meeting  of  Royal  Academy. 
My  plan  approved  of  for  "  form  of  candidates  sig- 

*  Now  Lord  Cheylesmore. 


ROYAL  ACADEMY  ASSOCIATES  221 

nifying  their  desire  for  membership."  Names  need 
now  be  entered  once  only  in  ten  years  instead  of 
annually.  Paid  visit  to  Life  Academy  and  Antique 
after  the  change  of  locality  on  my  suggestion.  A 
prodigious  improvement  to  both — a  great  success. 
A  plan  brought  forward  by  Government  for  en- 
larging our  sculpture-room  on  occasion  of  adding 
another  room  to  the  National  Gallery. 

'  Saturday,  lotk. — Spent  evening  at  the  Cropseys', 
American  artist  (landscape)  of  respectability. 

'Monday,  \2th. — General  meeting  of  Royal  Aca- 
demy. A  discussion  on  E.  Landseer's  proposition 
to  first  decide  on  the  class  to  be  elected,  which  was 
negatived  after  a  battle,  the  President  giving  the 
casting  vote.  Elmore  elected  after  a  contest  with 
S.  Smirke.  Plans  of  proposed  changes  and  enlarge- 
ments of  National  Gallery  and  Royal  Academy  laid 
on  the  table,  and  suggestions  given. 

'  Wednesday,  i^th. — Etching  Club  resumed  meet- 
ings at  each  others'  houses,  beginning  with  mine. 
Tea  at  seven,  supper  at  half-past  nine  ;  preferable  to 
our  late  dinners  at  King's  Arms.  Webster  sang  the 
old  Etching  Club  song  again,  much  to  the  amusement 
of  the  newer  members. 

'  Friday,  1 6tk.  —  Gave  up  my  large  study  to 
children,  who  prepared  it  for  our  children's  party,  I 
helping.  All  promised  well,  so  went  out.  At  seven 
the  guests  began  arriving,  and  about  eight  they  began 
"  Bombastes  Furioso,"  which  they  did  capitally  ; 
then  tableaux  and  charades  acted.  Supper  and 
dancing  concluded  a  very  merry,  enjoyable  evening  ; 


222  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

about  sixty-two  guests.  Robinson*  and  wife  staying 
with  us,  and  we  promised  to  visit  them  next  week. 

'Monday,  \<$th. — Preparing  for  workmen  to  lay 
down  hot  -  water  pipes.  They  came  and  began 
work. 

'  Tuesday^  20tk. — Fine  cold  day.  Bad  cold,  but 
took  rail  to  Berkhampstead  and  met  Mr.  Hutchin- 
son  ;  lunched,  and  drove  to  Bovingdon.  Window 
looked  pretty  well. 

'  Wednesday,  2\st. — Packed  up  and  went  to  Pet- 
worth  to  stay  with  Robinson  and  wife  (at  New 
Grove).  Bad  cold.  Arrived  at  five.  Comfortable 
oak-panelled  tapestried  bedroom,  with  good  fire,  and 
all  very  snug.  Capital  house. 

'  Thursday,  22nd. — Visited  gallery  at  Petworth 
House.  Very  interesting  collection.  Vandycks 
very  fine  ;  lady  in  blue,  and  two  young  men  arming. 

'  Friday,  2$rd.  —  Dined  at  Colonel  Wyndham's. 
Party  small,  conversation  nil ;  a  good  dinner,  and 
wines  excellent.  Walked  all  round  Petworth  during 
my  visit,  averaging  four  or  five  hours  daily. 

'Saturday,  31.57'. — Returned  home,  and  very  glad 
to  find  all  done  and  studios  very  comfortable. 

.'  Monday,  February  9.  —  Dined  at  Sulivans'  to 
meet  Wilmer,  whose  son  was  going  out  to  take  his 
brother's  place  (killed  at  Sebastopol)  in  the  regiment 
in  India. 

'  T^tesdayJ  i  *jtk.  —  Old  Captain  Mudge,  of  the 
packet  service  to  Ostend,  dined  with  us.  I  had  not 

*  H.  J.  Robinson,  engraver,  afterwards  R.A. 


PET  WORTH—  WINDSOR,  ETC.  223 

seen  him  for  eleven  years,  since  we  went  to  Switzer- 
land. 

'  Monday,  March  2. — Began  a  month's  visiting  in 
Life  Academy — a  tedious  drudgery.  Sat  Bartlett, 
as  piping  boy. 

'Wednesday,  ntk. — In  Life  Academy  sat  Miss 
Froud.  Arms  very  good. 

'  Wednesday,  \%th. — Sat  Thompson  in  Life  Aca- 
demy for  the  remainder  of  the  month. 

'  Tiiesday,  April  30. — Duchess  of  Gloucester  died 
at  five,  so  that  no  private  view  by  the  royal  party. 
Dinner  likewise  to  be  put  off.  Council  meeting  and 
lunch,  and  then  to  St.  James's  Park  to  watch  work- 
men in  the  new  ornamental  water,  Maclise  and  Hart 
with  me.  The  former  very  amusing  and  comic  in 
observations  and  jokes. 

'Friday,  May  i. — Worked  on  cartoon  of  "Charles 
I.'s  Funeral  "  in  morning  ;  joined  wife  at  private  view 
of  Royal  Academy  in  afternoon.  Tom  Taylor  and 
Forster  very  complimentary.  Gave  tickets  to  Mr. 
Eaton  and  wife,  Mr.  Burnand,*  and  one  to  Lloyd. 

'  Saturday >  2nd. — There  being  no  Academy  dinner 
to  detain  me,  went  out  with  Charlie  to  Windsor  to 
sketch  west  doorway  of  St.  George's  Chapel  for 
fresco.  Preparations  for  Duchess  of  Gloucester's 
funeral  going  on.  Rambled  about  the  castle,  and 
then  walked  up  the  river  to  Maidenhead,  where 
dined  and  train  back  to  London.  Bondsf  in 

*  Arthur  Burnand,  uncle  of  the  editor  of  Punch. 

f  Edward  Bond,  chief  librarian  of  British  Museum.  They  used  to, 
live  near  us,  and  we  went  much  on  the  river  together.  Mrs.  Bond 
a  daughter  of  the  author  of  the  '  Ingoldsby  Legends.' 


224  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


evening.  A  very  well-written  notice  in  Times  of 
the  exhibition  of  the  Royal  Academy,  in  which  self 
much  praised,  and  some  blame  (such  as  colour  of 
flesh  wanting  in  half-tones  and  rather  waxy,  and 
lights  too  white.  This  partly  true  in  "  Pilgrim 
Fathers,"  where  the  keynote  of  the  sky  is  rather  too 
white). 

'  Friday,  J^lly  1 7.  —  At  half-past  three  went  to 
Riverhead  for  a  day's  fishing  with  C.  Began 
about  seven  in  the  evening,  and  caught  four  trout, 
two  of  them  under  size,  so  threw  them  in  again. 
Next  morning  up  at  four,  and  we  fished  down  to 
Otford,  to  breakfast  at  eleven.  Caught  four  more, 
but  two  undersized.  Took  home  four.  Hot  day 
and  blazing  sun.  Found  that  for  very  fine  fishing 
one  fly  was  the  best,  especially  in  a  weedy  river 
encumbered  with  wood. 

'  Friday,  24^. — Eastlake  told  me  he  had  heard 
from  the  Prince  Consort.  I  was  at  liberty  to 
proceed  with  fresco  of  King  Charles's  funeral  without 
having  it  inspected.  Dined  in  the  picture-gallery  at 
Dulwich — large  party.  Council  of  Royal  Academy 
and  fellows  of  Dulwich  and  many  guests.  Lord 
Overstone,  Chancellor  Kindersley,  Dean  Trench, 
Tupper,  etc.  A  pleasant  evening ;  good  dinner  ; 
doors  open  into  a  nice  garden.  Dyce  tried  to  get 
me  to  assist  him  to  finish  Margaret  Street  Church. 
I  refused.  Finished  two  designs  for  Longmans'  new 
edition  of  selections  from  Moore,  and  sent  them  to 
Cundell  to  be  cut  in  wood. 

'  Saturday,  August  i . — Went  with  Cockerell  and 


ART  TREASURES,  MANCHESTER        225 

Webster  to  see  models  for  Wellington  monument  in 
Westminster  Hall.  Cockerell  one  of  the  judges,  I 
find.  He  took  notes,  I  saw,  of  remarks. 

'  Wednesday,  $th.  —  Finished  four  drawings  in 
Indian  ink  for  Cundell,  in  illustration  of  Burns' 
"Cotter's  Saturday  Night." 

'  Thursday,  6tk. — General  meeting  of  Royal  Aca- 
demy, to  award  travelling  studentship  for  two  years. 
A  show  of  hands  demanded,  whether  either  of  the 
candidates  (two)  should  be  sent.  Not  a  hand  held 
up  ;  so  it  is  lost,  and  the  sculptors  take  next  turn. 

'  Friday,  *]th. — Finished  sundry  odds  and  ends  and 
packed  up.  Wife  and  I  to  Sawley,  Derbyshire,  to 
the  vicarage. 

'Monday,  loM. — Left  Sawley  with  Samuel  Hey 
(Vicar),  who  accompanied  us  as  far  as  Crewe. 
Arrived  at  Preston  at  two,  and  visited  our  friends 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Newsham,  who  were  most  kind  and 
hospitable.  Mr.  Miller  came  in  to  tea. 

'Tuesday,  nth. — Our  host,  Mr.  Newsham,  accom- 
panied us  to  the  Art  Treasures  Exhibition  at  Man- 
chester. Took  a  day's  general  survey  previous  to  a 
second  visit  on  return.  .  .  .  Much  interested  with 
the  Portrait  Gallery,  which  is  full  of  historical 
interest.  Saw  our  old  curate  and  friend,  Mr.  West- 
more,  in  the  church,  or  cathedral.  He  kindly  asked 
me  to  visit  him  on  my  return. 

'  Wednesday,  \2th. — Wife  and  I  breakfasted  with 
Mr.  Miller.  Charming  collection  of  pictures ;  two 
of  mine  I  did  not  like — small  unimportant  things. 
Leslie's  and  Maclise's  best.  Linnell,  Landseer,  etc., 

15 


226  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

ditto.  Walked  up  Ribble  and  saw  the  nets  drawn 
four  times,  producing  one  '  sprod '  (sea-trout  ?). 
Longing  to  get  away  from  smoky  towns  to  the  open, 
wild,  fresh  country. 

'Friday,  i\th. — Left  our  kind  friends  at  nine. 
Rail  to  Fleetwood,  a  dull  place  and  dirty.  Steamboat 
across  to  Peel  ;  rainy,  drizzly,  and  dirty  passage. 
Rail  to  Broughton  by  Furness  Abbey  (full  of 
visitors)  ;  dined  at  the  inn,  and  hired  a  cart  to 
Ulpha,  six  miles.  Very  hilly,  and  the  journey  full  of 
hard  bumpings  to  wife.'] 

I  went  to  fish  in  the  Duddon  River,  which  Words- 
worth made  known  by  his  sonnets.  Lodgings  were 
not  to  be  had,  but  the  lady  of  the  squire,  Mrs. 
Rawlinson,  and  her  daughter,  kindly  found  quarters 
for  us  in  the  pretty  cottage  of  the  blacksmith  of  the 
village  at  a  short  distance  from  his  forge  ;  and  his 
good  wife  made  us  most  comfortable.  The  fishing 
was  a  failure,  to  my  surprise,  the  reason  being  that 
the  clear,  deepish  stream  runs  over  a  pebbly  bottom 
(small  round  pebbles),  so  that  there  is  no  food  for 
the  fish,  which  are  very  thin  and  small  and  half 
starved.  Sea-trout  come  up  in  floods  only,  and  the 
water  clears  and  subsides  too  rapidly  for  sport,  as 
they  can  only  be  taken  when  the  water  is  milky. 
Charlie  joined  us  here,  and  came  on  foot,  from  a 
visit  in  Westmoreland  (to  the  Gandys),*  over  the 
hills  by  Coniston  and  Seathwaite  Tarn.  [C.  and 
I  walked  to  Duddon  Hall  to  thank  Mrs.  Rawlinson 
for  her  kind  consideration  in  ordering  bread  and 

*  Oaklands,  Windermere. 


1  WONDERFUL  WALKER'  227 

meat  from  Broughton  for  us,  etc.  A  handsome, 
agreeable  woman,  grand  -  daughter  of  Romney, 
several  of  whose  pictures  were  on  the  walls.] 

Seathwaite  Church  and  village  were  the  scenes  of 
the  life  of  '  Wonderful  Walker,'  as  he  was  called,  a 
true  apostle  of  good  works,  immortalized  by  Words- 
worth. He  was  a  good  parson,  an  agriculturist,  and 
the  village  lawyer  and  schoolmaster.  He  educated 
his  class  of  boys  (and  girls  ?)  sitting  within  the  com- 
munion-rails, where  at  the  same  time  he  spun  wool 
for  his  clothes  and  rocked  the  baby's  cradle.  His 
stipend  was  about  £30  per  annum,  which  was 
increased  by  letting  himself  out  for  work  in  harvest- 
time,  etc.  Finding  that  his  flock  were  addicted  to 
dram-drinking,  he  brewed  good,  wholesome,  mild 
beer,  of  which  he  sold  only  a  limited  supply  to  each 
person.  He  saved  money,  and  sent  sons  to  the 
universities.  (I  heard  that  his  successor,  with  a 
stipend  increased  to  ^80,  could  not  live  in  such  an 
out-of-the-way  place.)  I  visited  the  church,  and 
saw  the  snug  parsonage,  and  thus  paid  my  small 
tribute  of  homage  to  so  really  great  and  good  a 
man.  We  frequently  toiled  up  the  steep  hill  to 
Seathwaite  Tarn,  where  wine  read  or  worked  while 
I  caught  a  few  small  trout  for  dinner.  [A  solitary 
lake  with  a  small  island,  a  ruined  boat-house,  and  a 
boat  stove  in. — Diary. ~\  Our  blacksmith's  family 
were  '  concernated,'  while  dining  one  day,  by  the 
appearance  of  a  constable.  The  son  (a  fine  young 
fellow)  had  joined  a  poacher  in  midnight  fishing  for 
sea-trout  in  preserved  water.  Great  was  the  dismay, 


228  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

and  in  spite  of  the  tears  of  the  mother  and  cries  of 
the  children,  he  was  taken  off  for  punishment.  The 
good  and  respectable  family  felt  the  disgrace  deeply. 

['Sunday,  August  16. — To  Ulpha  Church.  Clergy- 
man read  badly  and  preached  worse ;  old  and  worn 
out.  Congregation  nearly  all  men,  who  seemed 
serious  in  manner,  although  lazy  and  sleepy. 

'  Wednesday,  iqtk. — Began  a  sketch  of  stepping- 
stones  in  water-colour — a  pretty  subject.  Up  Walla- 
barrow  Crag  and  a  long  ramble  with  Charlie  over 
the  hills. 

'  Friday,  2\st. — Sketched  in  morning  the  stepping- 
stones  ;  sun  made  me  feel  quite  sick. 

'  Saturday,  22nd. — Unwell ;  could  not  get  up  from 
giddiness  and  sickness  [he  had  really  got  a  slight 
touch  of  sunstroke  the  Monday  before].  Charlie 
went  out  for  the  day  with  Mr.  Hird,  our  black- 
smith host,  for  a  day's  perch-fishing,  out  of  a  boat 
on  Devoke  Water. 

'  Monday,  i\th. — Sketched  stepping-stones,  which 
finished  pretty  little  subject  suggested  by  Words- 
worth's sonnet. 

'  Tuesday,  2$th. — With  Charlie  for  the  day  to 
Seathwaite  Tarn.  Strong  south  wind,  but  darkish. 
Took  only  sixteen  fish.  Enjoyable  excursion  ; 
effects  splendid  towards  evening  ;  low  evening  sun 
under  dark  clouds.  Got  home  both  rather  tired 
with  fishing  in  wind.  Found  wife  absent  at  Duddon 
Hall,  to  stay  the  night  and  visit  Silecroft  next  day. 

'  Wednesday,  26th. — Charlie  and  I  sketching  about 
all  day,  rather  lazily.  Wife  returned  in  even- 


DUDDON  HALL—SILECROFT  229 

ing,  very  jolly  after  her  visit  to  Mrs.  Rawlinson. 
Reported  Silecroft  excessively  quiet,  but  nice  lodgings, 
and  sea,  distant  nearly  a  mile,  fine  and  open,  but 
deserted. 

'  Thursday,  zjtk. — Walked  with  Charlie  to  Sile- 
croft, twelve  miles  off,  to  inspect  rooms  and  country, 
but  the  latter  seemed  so  dull  that  I  called  to  say  we 
should  not  go.  Took  train  to  Ravenglass,  at  the 
mouth  of  Eskdale.  Scawfell  fine  in  the  distance. 
Dined  at  Ravenglass  and  walked  across  the  '  fells  ' 
by  Devoke  Water  (eight  or  nine  miles)  back  to 
Ulpha.  Day  a  success. 

'Friday,  2%t/i. — Walked  with  Charlie  as  far  as 
Crossby  Gill  Bridge,  and  took  leave  of  him,  he 
going  back  to  school,  poor  fellow !']  Watched 
his  retiring  figure,  fishing-basket  on  back.  He  had 
got  over-heated  in  crossing  the  hills  to  join  us,  and 
had  sat  down  near  Seathwaite  and  got  a  chill,  and 
as  I  saw  him  walking  down  the  valley  on  his  de- 
parture and  heard  him  coughing,  I  had  a  sad  pre- 
sentiment that  his  lungs  were  affected  ;  and  although 
serious  damage  did  not  occur  for  some  years,  yet 
when  he  was  over-worked  at  St.  Peter's,  Eaton 
Square,  where  he  was  curate  to  Mr.  Wilkinson 
(now  Bishop  of  Truro),  the  disease  broke  out  again, 
and  he  was  only  saved  by  going  to  Tasmania  for  a 
sea  voyage. 

\^  Sunday,  30^. — Strolled  up  to  Seathwaite  Chapel. 
A  poor  old  parson  with  a  defect  in  his  speech.  Not 
bad  sermon,  very  badly  read  off.  Congregation 
lazy. 


230  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

'Monday,  $\st. — Walked  to  Duddon  Hall  to  say 
farewell  to  Mrs.  Rawlinson.  Saw  Mr.  Rawlinson. 
Lovely  day,  bright  and  clear  distance,  and  very 
sharp  outlines.  After  dinner  sketched  a  little,  in 
small  glen  near  house,  wife  reading  aloud  Lord 
Mahon's  History  of  England. 

'  Tuesday,  September  i. — Anniversary  of  my  wed- 
ding-day. Seventeen  years  of  unmixed  matrimonial 
happiness.  Sketched  variously  for  "  Crossing  the 
Brook."  Called  on  two  old  men  (brothers)  of  eighty 
and  eighty-four,  hale  and  vigorous.  One  spins  wool, 
and  showed  us  a  coat  of  his  own  spinning.  Per- 
fectly intelligent  and  vigorous.  There  is  an  old 
woman  near,  aged  ninety-seven,  and  various 
others.  Packed  up  for  departure. 

'  Wednesday,  2nd. — To  Silverdale  :  beautiful  and 
interesting  line  of  rail,  skirting  Morecambe  Bay,  and 
looking  up  to  the  Cumberland  hills  across  the  water. 
Silverdale  a  mistake,  dull  prettiness.  .  .  . 

'  Thursday,  ^rd. — To  Lancaster  to  call  on  wife's 
relations.  Settled  to  leave  Silverdale,  I  to  go  to 
Sedbergh,  and  pay  my  visit  to  Elams,  and  wife  to 
stay  with  her  aunt  Ross. 

'  Friday,  ^th.  —  Got  to  Sedbergh  by  Low  Gill. 
I  sent  in  my  name  as  "  Mr.  Brown  Smith,"  and  the 
squire  came  out  from  his  dinner  to  send  me  off! 
Poor  fellow !  he  looked  sadly  unwell,  and  is  really 
ill ;  however,  the  joke  stirred  him  up. 

'  Saturday,  ^th.  —  Rambled  about  Sedbergh. 
Lunedale  charming  ;  beautiful  rocks  and  streams  ; 
fishing  middling,  a  few  salmon  in  the  river. 


SEDBERGH— MANCHESTER          231 

'  Sunday,  6tk. — To  church.  Parson  stammers  so  he 
can  scarcely  read.  What  a  shame  for  such  defects  to 
be  allowed  to  obtrude  themselves  in  the  service !  .  .  . 

'Friday,  nth. — To  Hornby  Castle  by  railway. 
The  church  tower  octagonal  and  fine ;  church  itself 
restored,  and  modern,  and  bad.  Walked  back  to 
Caton,  and  stumbled  on  an  old  hall  (Claughton), 
and  while  sketching  there  the  occupant  (during  the 
summer)  made  my  acquaintance,  and  showed  me 
about  the  place,  and  I  lunched  there.  A  nice 
fellow,  a  Mr.  Fenwick,  a  barrister,  living  at 
Hornsey,  and  we  exchanged  cards. 

'  Saturday,  nth. — With  wife  and  Lizzie  and  Mr. 
Harrison  to  Bowick  Hall,  a  fine  old  place  newly 
done  up  (in  repair  merely)  ;  old  oak  panellings  in 
rooms.  A  pleasant  drive  and  fine  day.  Back  to  tea 
at  Mrs.  Harrison's,  who  was  hospitably  inclined.  .  .  . 

'Monday,  \^th. — Left  Lancaster  after  a  ramble  by 

aqueduct    bridge   and    call    on    F.    H ,   an   odd 

character,  looking  very  like  a  madman  ;  big  head, 
hair  on  end,  round  pot  body,  one  arm,  and  altogether 
eccentric.  Arrived  at  Westmore's  (Manchester) 
at  eight  o'clock.  They  had  given  up  expecting  me. 

'  Tuesday,  \$th. — To  Art  Treasures.  Much  in- 
terested, particularly  with  engravings  and  etch- 
ings. .  .  .  Turner  looks  great  here.  His  principle 
in  many  pictures  is  warm  yellowish  lights,  supported 
by  cool  grays  and  delicate  blues,  delicate  warm 
yellowish  browns,  focussed  by  a  little  touch  of  red, 
etc.,  toned  into  shade,  and  touches  (small  patches)  of 
black  or  blue. 


232  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

'Friday,  \%th. — Left  my  kind  host  and  hostess, 
the  Westmores,  for  Crewe.  There  met  wife,  and 
with  her  to  London.' 

('  Saturday,  i9th,  and  onwards,  derails  of  fresco 
painting  of  '  Burial  of  Charles  I.,'  till  about  Novem- 
ber 3Oth.) 

'  Wednesday,  October  7. — Went  to  hear  Spurgeon 
at  Crystal  Palace;  2,500  people  present.  Not  much 
impressed  with  his  eloquence.  The  looth  Psalm 
magnificent,  sung  by  all.  Spurgeon  told  Ferguson 
that  it  was  the  worst  sermon  he  ever  preached. 
The  space  was  too  great  to  make  himself  heard. 

'  Saturday,  iot/1. — Dined  at  club  with  Boxall ;  he 
threatened  with  paralysis,  taking  advice  and  medicine 
and  going  abroad. 

'  November  2. — A  son,  Arthur  Stockdale,  born. 

'  Sunday,  \$th. — Called  on  poor  Havell,  who  is,  I 
fear,  on  his  death- bed,  and  wrote  to  Treasurer  of 
Royal  Academy,  who  called  next  day  and  brought 
^lofrom  Academy,  which  I  sent  by  Charlie,  and  he 
accepted  it. 

'  Friday,  zyth. — Council  of  Royal  Academy,  in  the 
day-time,  to  inspect  works  for  medals.  First  time  of 
landscape  composition*  for  the  new  Turner  medal. 
Council  agreed  to  give  ^50  each  to  Mr.  Havell  and 
Townsend  from  the  Turner  Fund,  and  to  have  two 
meetings  annually  for  the  purpose  of  voting  pen- 
sions or  donations.  .  .  . 

'  Wednesday,  December  9. — Started  by  rail  to 
Staplehurst,  and  thence  to  Cranbrook  to  see 

*  Competition  (?). 


SPURGE  ON—  WEBSTER— RICHMOND  233 

Webster ;  arrived  at  tea-time.  He  much  improved 
in  health,  and  living  in  a  nice  red-brick  house,  and 
occupying  a  cottage  with  a  red-tiled  floor  as  a  studio, 
together  with  a  young  artist,  Hardy,  a  clever 
fellow.  .  .  . 

'  Wednesday,  i6tk. — Called  at  Arundel  Society 
office  to  see  two  drawings  from  Pinturicchio  which 
they  propose  to  publish,  on  which  I  gave  my  opinion. 
Returned  home  and  began  little  subject  of  "  The 
Stepping-stones." 

No  more  diary  beyond  this,  but  the  following 
letters  of  this  year  are  of  various  interest : 

G.  Richmond  to  C.  W.  Cope. 

'  10,  York  Street, 

lNov.  n,  1857. 

'  MY  DEAR  COPE, 

'  Ward  has  been  so  kind  as  to  run  up  and  tell 
me  of  my  election  by  the  Royal  Academy,  and  as  it  is 
to  your  kindness  that  I  owe  this  honour,  my  first  and 
best  thanks  are  to  you.  My  debt  of  thanks  to  the 
other  members  of  your  body  I  must  try  to  offer  in 
person  to-morrow,  for  I  have  to  go  away  again  this 
week  for  about  a  fortnight,  and  I  think  I  ought  to 
pay  my  respects  to  the  Bishops  without  loss  of  time. 
Should  I  leave  a  card  on  all  who  dwell  within  the 
bills  of  mortality  and  write  to  the  others  ?  Please  to 
tell  me  the  usage  in  the  matter  by  a  single  line,  and 
I  will  start  in  a  hansom  as  soon  after  twelve 
to-morrow  as  I  can.  My  wife,  my  children,  my 
mother,  who  is  here,  are  delighted  at  the  event ; 


234  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

and,  last,  I  can  assure  you  that  there  is  no  other 
honour  that  could  be  offered  me  that  I  should  value 
half  as  much  as  this  from  my  own  brethren  in  the 
art.  Accept,  my  dear  and  good  friend,  the  respect 
and  affection  of  yours  most  truly, 

'  GEO.  RICHMOND.' 

'  Nov.  12,  1857. 

'  MY  DEAR  COPE, 

'  Although  Ward  was  the  first  to  tell  me  the 
news,  your  friendly  hand  first  wrote  it.  I  had 
written  you  a  letter,  but  do  not  you  bother  to 
answer  it  ;  for,  in  the  hope  of  seeing  you,  I  shall 
make  my  first  call  at  your  house.  If  you  are  out,  I 
shall  thank  your  wife  instead.  .  .  . 

'  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

.  RICHMOND.'] 


1858.  —  Exhibited  at  Royal  Academy:  i.  'The 
Stepping-stones,'  not  sold.  2.  '  Upward  Gazing,'  a 
young  mother  fondling  her  child,  who  is  gazing 
upwards.  This  was  acquired  in  my  studio  by  my 
friend  Robert  Barrow.  Wife  and  I  seem  to  have 
gone  to  Barnard  Castle  and  Romaldkirk,  to  our 
friends  the  Robinsons  at  Petworth,  and  to  Hastings, 
etc.  [Also  apparently  on  a  short  visit  to  Woburn 
Abbey,  to  see  the  Duke  of  Bedford's  pictures  of  the 
Russell  family,  with  a  view  to  the  fresco  of  the 
'  Parting  of  Lord  and  Lady  William  Russell.'] 

In  one  of  my  frequent  visits  to  Barnard  Castle  (I 
forget  at  what  date)  I  sat  on  the  box  seat  of  the 


CHARLES  DICKENS  AND  'SQUEERS'  235 

stage  coach  which,  in  those  days,  united  Barnard 
Castle  to  Darlington.  The  driver  was  a  shrewd 
Yorkshireman,  and  interested  me  much  by  his 
comments  on  Dickens'  account  of  '  Dotheboys 
Hall.'  He  had  formerly  driven  on  the  great  North 
Road,  and  described  how  the  coach  at  vacation-time 
was  filled  by  pupils  going  home  for  the  holidays, 
accompanied  by  Mr.  Shaw  ('  Squeers  ').  '  What  a 
jolly  time  it  was,  and  how  hearty  and  healthy  the 
boys  looked  !'  The  coach  was  covered  with  flags. 
The  boys,  armed  with  pea-shooters,  peppered  all 
that  passed  by.  How  well  they  fed,  and  how  liberal 
was  '  Squeers  '!  He  stoutly  denied  that  they  were 
half  starved.  He  allowed  that  there  existed  some 
schools  like  what  Dickens  described,  but  Shaw's  was 
an  exception.  'Then  why,'  I  asked,  'should  Dickens 
have  singled  out  Shaw's  school  for  exposure  ?' 
Coachman  :  'I'll  tell  you,  sir.  Mr.  Dickens  had  his 
information  from  a  dismissed  usher ;  it  was  a 
poisoned  source.  Dickens  wrote  to  Shaw  and 
asked  to  inspect  his  school.  He  went,  and  was 
shown  into  the  parlour.  Shaw  came  in,  and  said, 
"  Follow  me,  gentlemen."  He  asked  them  to  go 
through  the  hall  to  a  side-door,  bowed,  and  shut  the 
door  behind  them.  They  found  themselves  in  the 
road.  They  did  not  see  the  school.'  Dickens  was 
accompanied  by  an  artist  friend  (George  Cruik- 
shank,  whom  Shaw  observed  making  a  sketch  of 
him  behind  Dickens'  shoulder).  I  asked  the  coach- 
man what  he  would  have  recommended,  seeing  that 
he  knew  Dickens  came  hostilely.  '  Well,  sir,'  said 


236  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

he,   flicking  the  leaders   with   his  whip,    '  I'd   have 
prepared   the  boys    in  their  best  clothes,    I'd  have 
been  very  perlite,  and   I'd  have  taken  them  up  and 
down,  and  into  the  field  and  garden,  till  they  were 
well  tired  ;  and  then   I'd  have  asked  them  to  stay 
and  have  a  little  refreshment,  and  I'd  ha'  gi'en  them 
a  couple  of  boiled  fowls  and  a  cut  from  a  nice  York 
ham  and  a  bottle  of  wine,  and   I'd  ha'  made  them 
comferable  ;  that's  how   I'd  ha'  done !     We  should 
never  have  heared  tell  of  Squeers'  school  then,  no, 
no !'     He    added  :  '  There    was    bad    schools,   but 
Shaw's  was  not  bad  ;  Dickens  ruined  him.'     When 
I  was  in  those  parts  I   visited  Bowes  and  saw  the 
school-house,   then  occupied  by  a  farmer,  who  had 
married   Shaw's  daughter  ('  Fanny  Squeers ').     My 
friend  Mr.  Harrison,  of  Stubb  House,  told  me  that 
when  he  went  to  shoot  over  Bowes  Moor  he  stopped 
at  the  inn  at  Bowes  to  dine  and  sleep,  and  generally 
invited  Shaw  to  dine  with  him,  and  he  said  he  was 
'  excellent  company.'     The  caricature  of  '  Squeers  ' 
in  the  story,  with  his  one  eye,  was  very  like  him,  he 
said. 

1859. — At  the  Royal  Academy:  i.  'Cordelia 
hearing  the  Account  of  her  Father's  Ill-Treatment,' 
for  Mr.  Arthur  Burnand.  2.  '  The  Elder  Sister ' 
(Meggie  and  Arthur),  for  Mr.  Lancaster.  3.  '  Re- 
pose,' a  small  circular  picture,  acquired  and  engraved 
by  J.  H.  Robinson.  The  engraving  was  not  pub- 
lished, as  it  was  not  quite  finished  at  Robinson's 
death.  In  the  autumn  wife  and  I  visited  the 
Sulivans  at  Llanbedr,  in  South  Wales.  Here  the 


A  SPIRIT  VISITOR  237 


first  symptoms  of  a  weak  heart  (fainting)  appeared 
in  my  dear  wife.  A  good  trout-stream,  but  I  could 
catch  no  fish,  and  one  day  I  discovered  the  cause. 
The  river  had  been  limed,  as  I  found  lime  on  ledges 
of  rock  at  the  sides.  A  resident  family  here,  who 
showed  us  hospitality,  much  interested  me.  Mr. 

R told  me  strange  tales  of  his  wife's  powers. 

She  was  an  accomplished  woman,  and  had  written 
an  epic  poem.  She  had  lost  an  only  son  (age  about 
twelve),  and  she  told  us,  with  great  detail  and  frank- 
ness, how  often  he  visited  her.  '  How  ?'  I  asked. 
She  said  while  at  needlework  she  felt  her  hand  laid 
hold  of,  and  it  was  made  to  draw  long  curves  on 
large  sheets  of  paper  (which  she  kept  on  the  table 
for  the  purpose)  and  very  intricate  and  involved 
patterns,  a  lead  pencil  being  used.  I  asked  to  see 
specimens.  She  showed  me  dozens  of  sheets  as 
large  as  newspapers.  Sometimes  writing  was 
apparent,  and  the  spirit-hand  had  caused  designs  to 
be  made,  to  be  carved  on  his  tombstone.  We  were 
taken  to  the  churchyard  to  see  it.  It  was  a 
monolith  about  six  feet  high,  and  the  figures 
(geometric)  were  cut  into  it  by  a  village  mason  from 
these  designs.  At  the  top  there  was  an  eye,  from 
which  lines  or  rays  emanated,  such  as  we  see  in  old- 
fashioned  woodcuts.  I  think  there  was  a  motto, 
but  I  forget. 

The  father  told  me  that  his  young  daughter, 
about  fourteen,  was  frequently  spoken  to  by  her 
brother  as  she  walked  through  a  field  of  long  grass, 
and  that  she  saw  the  tops  of  the  grass  bend  down  as 


238  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

he  brushed  over  them.  The  mother  also,  when 
playing  on  the  piano  any  ordinary  tune,  would  feel 
her  hands  influenced  to  play  strange  combinations  of 
chords,  and  had  no  control  over  them.  She  sat 
down  to  play  one  day,  and  after  playing  some  time, 
she  thought  the  spirit  influence  was  not  coming  ; 
but  suddenly  she  stopped,  and  then  struck  quite 
different  chords,  harmonious,  but  strange.  Mr. 
R —  -  told  me.  in  reply  to  my  inquiry,  that  he 
never  had  any  similar  experiences,  but  that  he  was 
convinced  of  their  reality.  I  asked,  '  What  good 
could  come  of  unmeaning  or  unintelligible  scrawls, 
and  was  it  likely  that  a  spirit  from  another  sphere 
would  communicate  with  his  mother  for  no  more 
serious  purpose  ?'  He  said  it  was  a  great  comfort 
to  them  to  be  thus  assured  of  their  son's  continued 
existence,  and  that  at  one  time  he  had  informed 
them  that  they  would  not  see  him  for  two  years,  as 
he  was  about  to  undergo  some  change.  They  both 
were  quite  free  from  reticence  on  the  subject,  and 
seemed  never  tired  of  being  cross-questioned.  A 
small  trout-stream  ran  through  his  grounds,  in  which 
I  fished  with  fair  success.  At  the  close  of  1859  I 
completed  one  of  the  Peers'  Corridor  frescoes, 
painted,  on  one  of  Sir  C.  Barry's  portable  frames,  in 
committee-room  B,  and  it  was  fixed  in  its  place  on 
December  8th.  Subject,  '  The  Parting  of  Lord  and 
Lady  William  Russell.' 

1860. — Exhibited:  i.  Mr.  Arthur  Burnand's picture 
of  '  Evening  Prayer,'  a  child  (Arthur)  kneeling  on 
his  mother's  knee.  2.  '  Rest/  a  mother  and  sleeping 


A  QUAINT  COURTSHIP  239 

child.  In  May  of  this  year  died  our  dear  sister 
Lizzie  (Benning),  one  of  the  brightest,  kindest, 
merriest  of  mortals.  She  was  married  to  a  Mr. 
Jones,  a  clergyman  at  Egglestone,  on  the  Tees 
River.  She  sank  after  a  prolonged  confinement 
with  her  first  child.  She  was  buried  at  Egglestone 
old  churchyard,  in  the  grounds  of  the  Hall.  She 
had  a  keen  sense  of  humour  and  a  store  of  amusing 
anecdotes.  One  of  her  stories  was  about  a  farmer 
who,  in  going  home  from  market  in  his  cart,  fell  out 
and  was  killed.  She  called  and  tried  to  console  the 
poor  widow,  and  advised  her  to  be  more  temperate 
in  her  own  habits,  seeing  how  her  husband  had  been 
punished  for  such  indulgences. 

'  Na,  na,  miss,'  said  she,  '  the  puir  man  only  twice 
cam'  home  sober ;  the  first  time  he  fell  out  and 
broke  his  leg,  and  now,  this  time,  he's  broke  his 
neck.' 

Another  day  she  (Lizzie)  met  a  farmer  friend, 
and  said  to  him  : 

;  I  hear,  John,  that  you're  lately  married  ;  who  is 
your  wife  ?' 

'  Weel,  Miss  Benning,  I  doan't  quite  know.' 
'  How  so  ?     Where  did  you  meet  with  her?' 
'  Aweel,  ye  see,  miss,  I  went  to  t'  market,  and  as 
I  was  going  I  seed  a  canny  lass  warking  along  t' 
road,   and    I    says,    "  Will    ye   git   oop    and    ride  ?" 
"  Ay,"  says  she.     So  she  gat  oop,  and  I  asked  her, 
"  Are  ye  gangin'  to  t'  market  ?"     "  Ay,"  says  she. 
"  What  for  ?"  says  I.      "  To  git  a  plaace,"  says  she. 
So  I  set  her  down  i'  t'  market  and  left  her  ;  and  as 


240  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

I  cam'  back  i'  t'  evening  there  was  this  same  lass 
warking  t'  saame  way  oop  hill.  So  I  spak'  to  her 
again,  and  axed  her,  "Ha'  ye  gotten  yer  plaace  ?" 
"  Nay,"  says  she,  "  I  hanna."  "  Will  ye  git  oop 
and  ride  ?"  "  Ay,"  says  she.  So  she  gat  oop,  and 
I  axed  her,  "  D'ye  think  my  plaace  would  suit  ye?" 
"  What  plaace  is  that  ?"  says  she.  "  Why,  to  be 
my  wife,"  says  I.  "  I  doan't  mind,"  says  she.  So 
we  gat  wed,  and  she's  a  rare  good  wife,  but  she's  a 
parfect  straanger  to  me.' 

In  the  late  summer  wife  and  I,  Nelly,  and  Arthur 
went  to  stay  at  Harwich,  which  was  one  of  those 
marine,  fishy,  old-style  places  in  which  I  delighted. 
A  small  steamer  ran  up  and  down  the  Orwell,  between 
Harwich  and  Ipswich,  in  which  I  took  an  almost 
daily  voyage,  as  I  had  my  first  taste  of  gout.  There 
is  another  larger  river,  the  Stour,  leading  up  to 
Constable's  country.  Near  Ipswich  Gainsborough 
painted  ;  and  there  is  a  lane  still  called  by  his  name. 
On  the  opposite  side  of  the  Orwell  is  old  Langridge 
Fort,  painted  by  Gainsborough.  The  boating  is 
perilous,  as  there  is  only  a  deep  channel  in  the 
centre  of  the  Orwell ;  and  as  the  river  falls  at  low- 
tide,  you  may  find  yourself  suddenly  aground  in 
thick  mud,  and  you  must  wait  hours  till  the  tide 
rises  and  sets  you  afloat.  We  got  caught  once,  and 
the  poor  children  were  sadly  alarmed,  the  oar  with 
which  I  tried  to  shove  off  getting  stuck  fast  in 
the  mud.  Fish  was  abundant,  especially  shrimps. 
While  staying  there  a  ragged  regiment  of  volunteers 
to  fight  in  Spain  arrived  :  decayed  potmen,  greasy 


HARWICH-1  LIBERATORS'  OF  SPAIN  241 

waiters  out  of  place,  raw  shop-boys,  etc.  They  were 
marched  at  once  on  to  the  jetty.  Having  travelled 
from  London  in  the  night,  they  were  sleepy,  and 
many  were  drunk — a  motley  set.  There  were  a 
very  few  young  gentlemen  among  them,  looking  sad 
and  shame-faced.  Having  no  more  use  for  English 
money,  they  threw  their  purses  (empty,  however) 
into  the  sea.  One  man  in  greasy  black  fell  into  the 
sea,  and  was  fished  out,  and  lay  half  drunk  all  day, 
shining  and  wet.  Another,  a  sturdy  bully  in  a 
white  hat,  stood  up  on  a  box  and  made  a  speech  in 
stentorian  tones.  He  called  himself,  and  all  those 
with  him,  '  liberators '  ;  all  the  rest  of  us  were 
'  slaves.'  A  soldier  looking  on  was  especially  in- 
sulted, and  told  that  his  livery  proclaimed  him  the 
'  slave  of  tyrants.'  The  soldier  was  an  active- 
looking  young  fellow,  and  replied  that,  '  slave  or 
no,'  he  was  man  enough  to  give  the  other  a 
thrashing,  and,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  and 
taking  off  his  coat  and  cap,  he  pulled  the  loud  bully 
down  and  then  thrashed  him.  The  latter  appeared 
no  more  !  It  was  an  amusing  scene. 

In  the  evening  a  large  steamer  came  in  and 
anchored,  and  the  '  liberators  '  were  taken  on  board 
in  boats,  to  the  sound  of  martial  music  and 
waving  of  flags.  The  poor  fellows  had  by  this 
time  got  sober,  and  cold  and  hungry,  having  eaten 
nothing  all  day,  and  the  wet,  shining  man  was 
bundled  on  board  like  a  sack.  It  was  a  beautiful 
evening,  and  we  lingered  about  in  a  boat,  sadly 
thinking  what  misery  and  sickness  were  in  store 

16 


242  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

for  them.  The  colonel  was  a  very  smart,  well- 
drilled  fellow.  We  afterwards  heard  that  he, was 
a  drill-sergeant  who  had  deserted.  Next  morning 
the  steamer  had  departed. 

1 86 1.  —  Exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  a  small 
replica  in  oil :  i.  '  The  Parting  of  Lord  and  Lady 
William  Russell,'  Mr.  Kelk's  picture.  2.  '  The 
Convalescent ;'  Mr.  Fores,  of  Piccadilly,  had  it. 
3.  'Scholar's  Mate,'  for  Mr.  Duncan  Dunbar.  All 
these  were  parted  with  in  my  studio  before  exhi- 
bition. 

In  the  summer  we  took  furnished  apartments  at 
Calais,  and  all  the  family  went  there,  including  my 
niece,  Maria  Kingdom.  Emily  was  in  poor  health, 
and  we  hired  an  invalid  chair  for  her.  The 
restorative  effects  of  the  pure,  dry  air  were  amazing. 
She  regained  health  and  strength  rapidly  (and 
remained  there  after  we  left  till  nearly  Christ- 
mas). Florry  was  suffering  premonitory  symptoms 
of  after-illness.  I  was  almost  sleepless,  both  there 
and  afterwards  in  Devonshire,  when  visiting  the 
Sulivans,  getting  only  a  nap  after  dinner.  I  took 
bromide  of  potassium  as  a  remedy  subsequently, 
with  good  results.  It  was  amusing  to  see  Harry 
and  Arthur  at  Calais  having  contests  with  a  troop  of 
French  urchins,  who  invariably  ran  away  from  them 
ignominiously,  Arthur  armed  with  a  tin  sword  and 
chasing  them  down  the  roads.  The  Ryans*  lived 
here  in  retirement.  Poor  Mr.  Ryan  was  confined  to 
his  bed,  on  the  pillow  of  which  always  sat  a  large 
*  With  whom  he  stayed  in  London  at  the  outset  of  his  art  career. 


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CALAIS— SLEEPLESSNESS  243 

cat.  Mrs.  Ryan  had  died,  and  her  sister,  Maria 
Buchanan,  kept  house  with  Sarah  Ryan.  Ellen, 
another  daughter,  was  a  widow,  still  in  distress  for 
the  loss  of  her  husband.  On  our  return  home, 
being  unfit  for  work,  I  visited  friend  Sulivan  in 
Devonshire,  and  tried,  by  hard  work  with  a  salmon- 
rod  in  the  Taw  (but  catching  no  salmon),  and  long 
walks,  to  tire  myself  out  and  thus  obtain  sleep — in 
vain.  On  my  return  my  dear  wife  managed  to  read 
me  to  sleep,  by  gradually  lowering  her  voice  as  I 
got  drowsy.  I  found  Thackeray  the  most  interest- 
ing, and  yet  soothing,  for  the  attention  must  be  fixed 
to  induce  sleep.  Chloral  also  helped.  I  took  it  at 
night  for  some  time,  and  am  not  aware  that  it 
injured  my  brain.  The  fresco  of  '  Raising  the 
Standard  at  Nottingham '  was  placed  in  the  corridor 
in  December. 

1862.  —  Cartoon  of  'Defence  of  Basing  House' 
finished.  Exhibited  oil  pictures  of  '  Two  Mothers/ 
in  two  frames  screwed  together.  I  found  the 
'Industrious  Mother'  more  attractive  than  the 
'Idle'  one,  and  I  was  induced  to  part  with  the 
former  to  Mr.  James  Brand,  but  afterwards  I  got  it 
back  from  him,  and  returned  the  money,  and  sold 
the  two,  united,  to  Agnew  (who  afterwards  sold 
them  to  Mr.  Mendall,  M.P.,  near  Manchester).  The 
fresco  of  '  Basing  House,'  painted  in  the  water- 
glass  method,  was  begun  in  July  and  finished  in 
November.  A  son,  Laurence  Edwin,  was  born 
June  6,  1862. 

When  Charlie  was  at  Oxford  I  had  occasion  to  go 


244  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

there  during  a  summer  vacation*  to  consult  the 
splendid  illustrated  edition  of  Clarendon  in  the 
Bodleian,  and  the  Rector  of  his  college  (Mark 
Pattison,  of  Lincoln)  kindly  allowed  me  to  stay  in 
rooms  there.  The  Rector  called  on  me.  I  returned 
his  call.  He  seemed  reserved,  till,  hearing  me  say 
something  about  fishing,  when  chatting  with  his 
sister,  he  crossed  the  room  and  sat  down  by  me. 

Pattison  :  '  Are  you  fond  of  fishing  ?' 

Cope  :  '  Yes,  and  I  was  just  saying  how  the  water 
at  Iffley  suggested  chub.' 

P.  :  '  You  are  mistaken  ;  there  is  not  a  fish  in  the 
river  here  larger  than  a  minnow,  as  it  is  swept  with 
nets.' 

C.  :  '  But  I  mean  to  try,  nevertheless.' 

P.  (excitedly)  :  '  When  ?' 

C.  :  '  This  afternoon.' 

P.  :  '  May  I  go  with  you,  and  will  you  lunch 
here  ?' 

C.  :  '  With  pleasure.' 

After  luncheon  he  retired,  and  came  forth  dressed 
in  a  rough  sporting  suit  and  cloth  cap,  and  we  took 
a  boat,  and  my  son  sculled  us  down  to  Ififley  Lock. 
I  gave  Pattison  a  large  mulberry  hackle -fly,  and 
suggested  his  trying  the  deep  pool  under  the  willows 
below  the  lock.  He  stood  up  and  fished  '  secundum 
artem '  for  half  an  hour,  and  then  said,  '  There,  I 
told  you  so.'  So  I  said  I  would  try.  I  soon  caught 
a  small  chub.  We  crossed  the  river  to  the  mouth  of 
a  feeder.  I  told  our  boatman  how  to  act,  and  threw 

9  In  1861. 


MARK  PATTISON  ASA  SPORTSMAN  245 

my  fly  into  a  deep  place  close  under  some  osiers.  It 
was  taken.  The  fish  was  strong  and  large,  and 
swam  under  our  boat,  but  I  got  him  cleared,  and 
then  he  actually  towed  our  boat  up  the  little  back- 
water. The  Rector  got  excited,  when,  alas  !  the 
hook  and  fly  '  came  home '  and  the  fish  was  gone. 
Rector  :  'There,  now,  you  have  convinced  me.' 
He  must  have  weighed  many  pounds. 
This  was  the  beginning  of  a  close  friendship 
between  us,  and  with  me  all  his  shyness  and  reserve 
were  banished.  Next  day  he  got  me  to  walk  with 
him  to  Iffiey  to  visit  Miss  Strong,  daughter  of 
Captain  Strong  (a  banker),  who  became  the  future 
Mrs.  Pattison.  We  stayed  at  each  other's  houses, 
and,  I  think  the  next  year  or  so,  we  went  on  a 
fishing  excursion  together  into  Westmoreland  and 
Cumberland.  We  first  went  for  a  few  days  to  a 
friend's  house,  Mr.  Thompson,  an  artist  and  poet,  of 
Clifton,  near  Penrith,  who  had  often  pressingly 
invited  me.  We  fished  the  Lowther  by  permission, 
but  had  poor  sport,  as  the  fish  were  small  and 
scarce.  We  went  on  from  there  to  H  awes  water,  to 
a  farm-house  known  to  Thompson,  and  there  *we 
had  good  sport,  fishing  out  of  a  boat  on  the  lake, 
catching  char  and  trout,  often  on  alternate  days. 
While  on  the  water  one  day,  a  farmer  on  a  pony 
shouted  to  us  and  held  up  a  letter.  That  was  the 
usual  way  of  getting  letters,  as  there  was  no  post- 
man, and  anyone  who  happened  to  be  passing  up 
the  valley  brought  them.  We  walked  back  to 
Clifton  with  Thompson,  and  met  the  Rev.  Mr. 


246  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Hayman  (Fellow  of  Corpus),  who  gave  me  his 
translation  of  Dante — a  very  pleasant,  genial  com- 
panion. We  visited  Robert  Preston  at  Ulleswater, 
where  the  Rector  was  much  contented,  and  said, 
'  Why,  this  man  knows  everything,  and  has  all  the 
right  books.'  We  then  left  Thompson's  hospitable 
house,  and  put  our  traps  in  a  farmer's  cart,  in  which 
the  Rector  also  deposited  himself,  lying  on  his  back, 
to  Temple  Sowerby.  I  preferred  fishing  my  way 
down  a  dell  where  ran  a  small  tributary  of  the  river 
Eden,  to  get  a  few  trout,  and  finding  a  railway 
bridge  across  the  river,  I  walked  over  it  and  arrived 
at  our  inn.  Where  was  my  friend  ?  The  landlady 
replied  that  a  gentleman  in  a  cart  had  come,  but  he 
seemed  '  varry  particklar ';  and  as  she  had  had  a 
party  of  fishing  gentlemen  who  gave  great  trouble 
and  sat  up  very  late,  and  this  did  not  suit  her  weak 
health,  she  had  sent  him  to  a  cottage  in  the  village, 
'where  maybe  he  could  get  a  bedroom.'  There  I 
discovered  him,  lying  on  a  little  sofa,  our  '  articles  ' 
littered  about  the  floor.  He  seemed  disturbed. 

'  There's  a  little  bedroom  for  you,'  he  said,  '  but  a 
music-master  has  to  pass  through  it  to  get  to  his 
own  room.  I  can  remain  here,  if  we  do  remain.' 

'  Have  you  got  anything  to  eat  ?'  I  asked. 

'  No,'  said  he  dejectedly. 

I  went  back  to  the  inn. 

Cope  (to  landlady)  :  '  Do  you  refuse  to  receive 
us  because  you  have  no  spare  bedrooms  ?' 

Landlady  :  '  Oh  nay,  we've  got  seven  varry 
comfortable  rooms  ;  there's  plenty  of  room.' 


FISHING  EPISODES  247 

C.  :  '  Then  may  we  have  two  ?' 

L.  :  '  Oh  ay,  surely.' 

C.  :  '  And  can  you  get  us  chops  and  a  few 
vegetables  ?' 

L.  :  '  Surely,  quite  easily.' 

C.  :  '  Then  I  shall  fetch  my  friend,  for  we  are 
both  hungry.' 

I  went.     The  Rector  was  astonished. 

'  There,'  said  he,  '  my  arguments  were  fruitless ; 
you  go,  and  in  five  minutes  all  is  settled.' 

His  despair  vanished.  We  had  a  fire  lighted,  and 
were  soon  quite  comfortable,  and  next  day  we  got 
tickets  for  the  river  and  enjoyed  ourselves. 

Our  old  lady  friend,  Miss  Bleaymire,  who  lived 
here,  invited  us  to  dinner.  A  bad  cold  sent  me  to 
bed,  so  Pattison  went  without  me.  The  conver- 
sation must  have  been  amusing.  It  turned  out 
afterwards  that  the  landlady  had  consulted  Miss 
Bleaymire  about  us,  and  she  told  her  that,  if  she 
didn't  make  her  friend  Mr.  Cope  comfortable,  she'd 
never  forgive  her.  Hence  it  was  owing  rather  to 
Queen  Bleaymire's  authority  than  to  my  eloquence 
that  so  great  a  change  had  occurred  in  the  landlady's 
disposition  towards  us.  The  Rector  quite  appre- 
ciated Miss  Bleaymire's  character.  Our  last  day 
came  ;  the  river  had  been  flooded.  Pattison  thought 
fly  was  of  no  use,  and  went  out  with  a  minnow.  I 
kept  to  fly-fishing,  and  went  down  to  where  the 
water  was  shallow  and  beginning  to  clear.  There  I 
caught  a  fish  or  two,  but  as  the  water  got  brighter 
they  began  to  take  greedily,  and  in  two  hours  I 


248  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

filled  my  basket  with  fine  trout.  We  met  at  the  inn. 
Said  P.  gloomily,  '  I  suppose  you  have,  like  me, 
done  nothing.'  I  emptied  my  basket  into  two  large 
dishes.  'There,'  said  he,  'that  sort  of  thing  will 
occur  sometimes.'  At  four  o'clock  a  fly  came  from 
Appleby,  where  we  slept,  and  took  train  next 
morning. 

Mark  Pattuon  to  C.  W.  Cope. 

'  Lincoln  College,  Oxford, 

' 'June  29,  1862. 

'  DEAR  MR.  COPE, 

'  Hearing  you  are  at  Egglestone,  I  write  to 
ask  if  it  would  suit  your  plans  to  pay  Mrs.  Pattison 
and  myself  a  visit  at  Bamburgh  during  your  stay  in 
the  North.  I  shall  be  in  town  during  the  present 
week  occupied  with  the  Indian  Civil  Service  Exami- 
nations, but  I  hope  to  return  to  Bamburgh  (where  I 
have  left  Mrs.  Pattison)  by  the  8th,  or  at  latest  the 
9th,  of  July.  I  think  the  old  castle  is  just  the  place 
you  would  like,  and  you  might  try  a  cast  on  your 
favourite  Coquet  on  your  way  back.  If  you  can 
make  this  suit  you,  will  you  let  me  have  a  line  from 
you  to  that  effect  ?  Address  Bamburgh  Castle, 
Northumberland,  as  I  don't  know  where  I  shall  be 

sleeping  in  town. 

'  Yours  very  truly, 

'  MARK  PATTISON.' 

In   returning    rom   one  of  my  visits   to  Barnard 
Castle,*  I  stopped  at  Tebay  Station  and  walked  to 

*  Probabl    1862. 


OLD  FRIENDS  249 


Sedbergh  (The  Thorns),  where  resided  the  widow 
of  my  dear  old  friend,  John  Elam.  I  had  not  heard 
of  the  family  for  years,  and  I  was  uncertain  whether 
Mrs.  Elam  still  lived,  as  she  was  old  and  feeble.  I 
went  up  a  lane  to  the  kitchen-door.  It  was  snowing. 
I  knocked.  It  was  opened  by  their  old  servant 
James,  whom  I  had  known  since  boyhood.  I  said, 
'  How  are  you,  James  ?'  Said  he,  '  You  seem  to 
know  my  name,  sir,  but  I  don't  know  yours.'  I 
asked  him  did  he  remember  taking  a  boy  into  a 
field,  and  putting  him  on  a  pony,  and  the  pony 
bolting  into  a  shed  and  nearly  knocking  the  boy's 
head  off  against  the  lintel  of  the  door.  '  Yes,  sir,  I 
remember ;  that  was  Charles  Cope.'  I  then  re- 
minded him  of  Christmas  games  and  tableaux 
vivants.  '  That  was  Master  Cope,  too  ;  but  how  do 
you  know,  and  who  told  you  about  these  things  ?' 

C.  :  '  Do  you  think  that  youngster  was  like  me  ?' 

J.  :   '  Not  a  bit.' 

So  I  told  him  who  I  was,  and  then  he  said, 
'  Coom  in,  sir,  out  o'  t'  snow;'  and  even  then  he 
scarcely  recognised  me,  as  I  had  a  short  beard,  but 
he  said,  '  Sit  ye  doon.'  This  was  in  the  kitchen  ;  so 
he  wiped  a  chair,  and  I  sat  down.  I  then  asked 
after  the  family.  J.  :  '  Why,  mistress  gets  a  bit 
feeble,  but  is  middlin'  well  ;'  and  he  went  and  told 
them  of  the  strange  visitor,  and  I  was  ushered  in 
and  received  a  hearty  welcome,  and  remained  two 
days.  I  felt  that  I  should  never  see  Mrs.  Elam's 
sweet  face  again.  She  and  her  husband  had  been 
associated  with  my  early  boyhood,  and  with  the 


250  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

latter  I  had  walked  hundreds  of  miles  over  the 
moors,  from  Gildersome,  near  Leeds,  to  Dent  Dale, 
etc.  He  was  a  fine,  big,  manly  Englishman,  rosy, 
and  with  a  bald  forehead  ;  a  splendid  walker,  gentle 
and  benevolent,  and  was  to  me  as  a  father,  and  I 
loved  them  all  as  relations. 

I  went  to  Norfolk  in  November,  1862,  and  joined 
my  friend  and  pupil  Herbert  Roberts  in  a  voyage  in 
a  small  cutter  down  the  Norwich  river,  sleeping  on 
shore  at  Rainham,  then  on  to  Yarmouth,  up  the 
river  Waveney  to  Beccles,  and  then  on  to  Lowe- 
stoft.  It  was  a  miserable,  cold  voyage  :  no  wind, 
no  sun,  or  hazy,  and  we  had  to  pole  all  the  way 
back  to  Norwich.  This  excursion  would  be  pleasant 
in  summer  weather,  but  not  so  late  in  the  year. 

1863.  —  Exhibited  at  Royal  Academy:  i.  'The 
Music  Lesson '  (Emily  teaching  Harry  the  piano). 
2.  '  Morning  Lessons  '  (Harry  and  Arthur).  Both 
small  pictures,  and  both  went  to  Alderman  Salo- 
mons. 3.  '  Contemplation,'  purchased  by  Agnew 
before  exhibition.  4.  Portrait  of  Emily  Cope 
(given  to  her  future  husband,  Rev.  James  Corn- 
ford).  5.  '  Reading  for  Honours '  (painted  in  the 
garret  at  Abinger  from  James  Cornford)  ;  sold  to 
Mr.  Pococke  the  first  day  of  the  exhibition.  [Mr. 
Cope  was  examined  before  the  Royal  Academy 
Commission  in  March,  1863.  Vide  Appendix.] 

I  took  rooms  at  Abinger  at  the  Manor  Farm 
for  the  summer,  as  my  house  was  undergoing  repairs 
and  additions.  Our  dear  Florry  was  very  ill.  Her 
mother  brought  her  home  from  Surbiton,  where  she 


FLORENCE  COPE  251 


had  been  at  school  with  Mrs.  Gerrard.  When  the 
workmen  began,  the  noise  and  disturbance  was  too 
great  for  her,  and,  on  friend  Suli van's  most  kind 
suggestive  invitation,  we  went  to  his  house  at 
Rutland  Gate,  as  the  family  were  away ;  and  there 
she  enjoyed  peace  and  quiet  rest,  until  she  died  of 
consumption  on  the  3<Dth  of  May.  A  touching 
memorial  of  her  character,  illness,  and  death  was 
written  by  her  dear  mother,  which  shows  Florry's 
refined  and  pure  disposition,  and  also  is  full  of  uncon- 
scious eloquent  testimony  of  her  own  loving  and  holy 
nature.*  Florry  had  been  confirmed  in  St.  Barnabas's 
Church,  Kensington,  Dr.  Francis  Hessey's  church, 
and  he  was  unwearied  in  his  kind  ministrations  to 
her  till  the  end.  After  his  long  Easter  Day  services 
he  walked  all  the  way  from  Addison  Road  to 
Rutland  Gate,  in  pain  from  rheumatism,  weary  in 
body,  but  unwearied  in  doing  good  in  his  Master's 
service  ;  a  truly  faithful  servant  of  his  Lord  —  an 
exemplary  'good  parson.'  I  ought  also  to  have 
spoken  of  the  great  kindness  mother  and  daughter 
received  in  the  railway  journey  from  Surbiton  from 
Dr.  Barker,  Bishop  of  Sydney,  and  his  wife.  He 
carried  Florry  when  they  changed  carriages,  and 
insisted  on  her  wearing  his  large  silk  handkerchief, 
and  visited  my  wife  afterwards.  He  was  another 
'good  servant  of  Christ.'  After  Florry's  decease  we 
all  joined  company  at  Abinger,  where  we  remained 
until  our  house  was  finished,  under  Somers  Clarke's 
care. 

*  See  'Strength  made  Perfect  in  Weakness,'  S.P.C.K.,  1891. 


252  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

During  the  alterations  I  occasionally  went  to 
Kensington,  and  going  in  one  day  unperceived 
through  the  open  doors,  I  found  our  cook,  left  in 
charge,  a  very  handsome,  tall  woman,  waltzing  with 
a  young  carpenter,  he  whistling  a  tune  and  smoking, 
in  turns.  When  I  appeared,  he  bolted  into  the 
coal-cellar,  but  I  called  him  out.  He  took  her  out 
walking  on  Sundays  (dressed  like  a  gentleman),  and 
promised  her  marriage.  As  he  shirked  his  work,  I 
complained  of  him  to  the  clerk  of  the  works. 
'  Which  of  the  men  is  it  ?'  said  he.  I  pointed  him 
out  on  the  roof.  '  That  man  !'  he  exclaimed.  '  Why, 
he's  a  respectable  man  with  a  nice  wife  and  two 
children  !'  He  called  him  down  and  dismissed  him 
on  the  spot.  We  sent  the  cook  to  Abinger,  but  to 
no  purpose  ;  she  had  several  offers  of  marriage,  but 
she  was  reckless,  and  they  all  gave  her  up.  The 
housemaid  was  handsome  also,  but  she  fell  into  a 
rapid  decline,  and  we  sent  her  to  Brompton  Con- 
sumptive Hospital,  where  my  sweet  wife  constantly 
visited  her  till  she  died.  Harry  and  Arthur  were 
ambitious  of  being  rustics,  and  really  got  to  talk  in 
the  local  patois,  and  rubbed  their  hands  with  yellow 
clay  to  look  the  character  better.  Emily  opened  a 
Sunday  afternoon  class  in  a  barn,  where  she  read  to 
a  few  rustics.  The  most  attentive  listener  was  an 
old  farm  labourer  of  Muggeridge's  (our  farmer),  who 
never  fell  asleep  ;  but  unluckily  it  turned  out  after- 
wards that  he  was  stone-deaf,  and  heard  not  a  word 
she  said.  I  suppose  he  liked  to  gaze  on  her  sweet 
young  face. 


ABINGER—  BOULOGNE  253 

1864.  —  Occupied  on  cartoon  of  'Train  Bands 
marching  to  relieve  Gloucester,'  also  on  a  small 
whole-length  of  Mrs.  James  Brand  and  her  two 
boys.  In  the  winter,  wife  and  I,  with  Charles 
Benning,  went  to  Boulogne  to  be  with  my  wife's 
father  on  his  death  -  bed.  He  was  buried  in  the 
cemetery  at  that  place ;  .an  upright,  honourable, 
fiery,  generous  man.  [Professor  Owen  was  at  one 
time  a  pupil  of  his,  and  always  spoke  of  him  with 
admiration  and  respect,  and  said  that,  had  he  come 
to  London,  he  would  have  become  celebrated  in  his 
profession.] 


[254  ] 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

FRESCO    PAINTING,    ROYAL    ACADEMY    REFORM,    ETC. 

1865. — A  small  figure  of  Fra  Angelico  for  a  wall 
at  South  Kensington,  afterwards  executed,  life-size, 
in  mosaic,  sent  to  the  Royal  Academy,  and  pre- 
sented to  that  body  (as  well  as  '  Genevieve,'  for 
diploma  picture). 

A  large  posthumous  portrait  of  H.R.H.  the 
Prince  Consort,  placed  in  the  large  room  of  the 
Society  of  Arts.  The  Queen  came  to  see  it  in  my 
studio.  [She  was  accompanied  by  two  of  the 
Princesses,  a  maid  of  honour  or  two,  and  an  equerry. 
Passing  a  half  -  opened  door,  where  one  of  the 
smaller  children  was  watching  to  see  the  royalties, 
the  Princesses  spoke  to  the  child  kindly,  and  she, 
encouraged  by  the  condescension,  asked,  '  Would 
you  like  to  go  upstairs  and  see  the  baby  ?'  at  which 
there  was  a  general  laugh,  which  relieved  the 
solemnity  of  the  occasion.  The  Queen  was  very 
gracious,  and  had  brought  a  packet  of  photographs 
of  the  Prince.  She  made  some  judicious  criticisms, 
and  made  a  present  of  one  of  the  photographs.] 
Two  posthumous  portraits  of  William  Dyce, 


PEERS'  CORRIDOR  FRESCOES  255 

R.A.,  one  head  life-size  for  his  brother-in-law, 
James  Brand,  and  the  other,  smaller,  presented  to 
Mrs.  Dyce.  Fresco  of  '  Train  Bands '  finished  in 
water-glass  process,  and  placed  in  the  Peers'  cor- 
ridor. The  remaining  fresco,  '  Speaker  Lenthall,'  was 
completed  about  the  same  time  in  the  following  year. 

This  series  of  frescoes  was  intended  to  illustrate 
the  virtues  and  heroism  of  some  of  the  actors  in  the 
great  Civil  War,  four  of  them  on  the  Royalist  side, 
and  four  on  that  of  the  Parliament.  The  frescoes 
(painted  on  the  movable  frames  mentioned  above) 
were  protected  at  the  back  by  a  thick  slate,  over 
which  the  lath  and  plaster  was  placed  on  which  the 
fresco  was  painted  ;  and  I  cannot  doubt  that,  being 
thus  protected,  much  injury  was  prevented. 

Whilst  I  was  painting  there,  the  Prince  Consort 
caused  a  pamphlet  to  be  translated  from  the  German 
(a  copy  of  which  was  sent  to  each  of  the  frescanti), 
describing  the  water-glass  method,  a  new  method 
of  painting  fresco  in  Germany,  which  was  considered 
indestructible.  It  consisted  in  applying  to  the 
surface  of  the  fresco  when  finished  (which  was 
painted  with  ordinary  water-colours  and  distilled 
water  only,  on  the  dry  wall  of  mortar  of  lime  and 
sand)  a  thin  coating  of  liquid  silica,  '  glass- water,' 
spread  by  means  of  a  large  syringe,  from  which  it 
issued  like  a  cloud  of  spray.  The  first  of  the 
frescanti  who  tried  this  was  Maclise,  in  his  splendid 
fresco  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  at  Waterloo,  in 
the  Royal  Gallery.  I  watched  its  progress  with 
keen  interest.  Of  course,  slight  mistakes  were 


256  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

made  in  the  first  experiment.  It  was  naturally 
thought  that,  if  a  very  thin  coating  of  water-glass 
would  partly  fix  the  colour,  a  stronger  dilution  would 
make  it  quite  safe.  But  this  is  not  altogether  the 
case.  The  problem  is  to  apply  only  so  much  glass- 
water  as  will  combine  with  the  lime  of  the  wall  ;  if 
more  is  used,  it  is  not  absorbed,  and  comes  to  the 
surface  in  a  gray  deposit,  which  greatly  obscures  the 
clearness  of  the  colour,  especially  in  the  darker 
shades,  thus  rendering  the  composition  misty  in 
effect.  In  his  second  fresco,  of  the  '  Death  of 
Nelson,'  Maclise  used  much  less  glass- water,  and 
applied  it  at  longer  intervals  of  time  ;  and  he  told 
me  that  in  one  place  only  he  used  it  of  the  former 
strength,  viz.,  on  Lord  Nelson's  cocked  hat,  and  that 
this  was  the  only  portion  obscured  with  the  gray  mist. 
The  rest  is  as  clear  as  when  freshly  painted. 

I  may  here  mention  that  Richmond,  to  his  great 
honour,  although  not  acquainted  with  Maclise 
personally,  after  the  death  of  that  genius  spent 
many  weeks  in  gratuitous  homage  to  his  work,  by 
endeavouring  to  remove  the  gray  surface  deposit. 
He  kept  two  men  employed,  who  were  supplied 
with  large  washleather  bags  to  beat  the  whole 
surface,  and  by  this  simple  method  he  succeeded  in 
dusting  off  a  great  deal  of  the  loose  incrustation 
(from  the  Wellington  subject).  This  giving  up  of 
his  own  valuable  time  in  endeavouring  to  preserve 
the  work  of  another  artist,  and  that  one  not 
personally  known,  is  highly  honourable  to  Rich- 
mond, and  worthy  of  being  recorded  as  an  example 


THE  QUEEN'S  ROBING-ROOM  257 

of    generous    appreciation    of    merit.      But   this  is 
anticipating  the  course  of  the  narrative. 

Dyce  was  commissioned  to  decorate  with  frescoes 
the  Queen's  Robing -Room  from  the  legend  of 
King  Arthur.  These  he  carried  out  with  his  usual 
talent.  They,  like  all  pure  frescoes  (fresco  buono), 
suffered  somewhat  from  the  climate  and  dirt.  He 
died  before  quite  .completing  the  largest  subject. 
After  his  lamented  death,  I  was  asked  to  finish  one 
or  two  unimportant  parts,  and  I  also  repainted  two 
or  three  damaged  heads  with  water-glass.  Herbert 
decorated  the  Conference  Hall  with  the  subject  of 
'  Moses  giving  the  Law  to  the  Israelites.'  It  was 
done  in  glass-water,  and  is  a  most  impressive  work. 
Ward  was  commissioned  to  paint  the  Commons' 
corridor.  His  frescoes  were,  I  believe,  done  in 
water-colour  only,  without  fixative,  but  as  they  and 
the  frescoes  in  the  Peers'  corridor  have  since  been 
covered  with  glass,  it  is  hoped  that  they  will  not 
suffer  further  from  decay. 

I  will  not  dwell  further  on  the  subject  of  the 
frescoes.  Our  efforts  met  with  little  sympathy  from 
the  profession.  As  Maclise  once  remarked  to  me, 
4  We  are  scarcely  forgiven  for  attempting  to  extend 
the  limits  of  our  art !'  The  then  Keeper  of  the 
Academy  strongly  advised  me  to  have  no  part  in 
what  he  called  '  mere  decoration.'  I  replied  that 
'  all  art  ought  to  be  decorative,'  and  the  conversation 
closed.  On  looking  back  through  these  years,  I 
feel  how  much  of  life  has  been  wasted  in,  as  it  were, 
writing  in  the  sand.  Time's  effacing  fingers  began 

17 


258  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

to  obliterate  at  one  end,  while  we  were  painfully 
working  at  the  other ;  and  when  at  last  the 
difficulties  were  being  solved,  and  the  destructive 
agencies  overcome  by  the  judicious  use  of  water- 
glass,  the  lamented  death  of  the  Prince  Consort  put 
an  end  to  the  Royal  Commission  of  Fine  Art,  and 
the  paltry  sum  of  .£4,000  per  annum  was  considered 
too  large  for  the  British  nation  to  expend  on  works 
of  national  art,  and  was  withdrawn.  Let  us  hope 
that  the  progress  already  made  will  not  be  alto- 
gether lost. 

Many  spaces  remain  for  decoration,  and  fine 
subjects  are  suggested  by  great  historians  ;  and  we 
may  not  doubt  that  able  painters  and  sculptors  will 
be  found  hereafter  to  complete  and  carry  forward 
what  has  been  commenced,  and  that  the  Houses 
of  Parliament  may  yet  contain  noble  works  of 
British  genius.  If  the  niggardly  parsimony  of  the 
Government  continues,  may  not  private  liberality 
step  forward  in  its  place,  and  do  what  it  has  done  in 
other  directions  from  a  sense  of  noble  patriotism  ? 
The  loss  to  the  nation  by  the  death  of  the  Prince 
Consort,  in  all  matters  of  fine  art  (as  well  as  in  other 
directions),  is  irreparable,  endowed  as  he  was  with 
bright  intelligence,  refined  taste,  and  enthusiastic 
interest.  To  me  he  was  most  kind,  and  he  often 
enlivened  conversation  with  some  appropriate  and 
merry  jest. 

In  the  summer  of  1865  wifie  and  I  went  to  stay  in 
a  farm-house  near  H  awes  water.  Here  we  were 
visited  by  an  old  friend  of  hers,  Anthony  Parkin, 


THE  PRINCE  CONSORT  259 

who  invited  us  to  see  him  at  his  house  on  the  edge 
of  U  lies  water.      It  was  a  perfect  bachelor's  palace, 
filled   with   his   own  wood- carving,    having  a  good 
library,  and  with  an  excellent  garden  of  flowers  and 
fruits,  and  a  boat-house  with  a  fine  boat.      He  had 
been    an    early    friend    of    my    wife's    when   a  girl, 
leading  her  about  on  his  white  pony,  and  was  a  very 
accomplished  man.      In  the  afternoons  he  sculled  us 
about  on  the  lake.     The  fish  here  are  destroyed  by 
the  water  from  lead-mines.       He  was  a  neighbour 
and  friend  of  Miss   Bleaymire.     At  our  farm-house 
the  two   Miss  Lucases  and  their  two  brothers  were 
also    staying.     They  were   most  kind   to  us    in  all 
ways.     The    laundress    living    two    miles    off,    the 
young  ladies  actually  took  our  washing,  slung  on  an 
alpenstock,  to  the   village  where    she  lived.      The 
brothers  used   to  get  beer  in  a  stone  jar,  similarly 
slung  on  an  alpenstock,  from  the  inn  at  the  head  of 
the  lake,  some  three  or  four  miles  distant.     Here 
was  a  hamlet,  and  the  smallest  church  in    England. 
The  resident  squire  was  the  descendant  of  ancient 
owners    of  property ;    he   assisted    in    the    church 
services    with  very    solemn   and  audible  responses. 
As  we  passed  his  garden-gate,  he  staggered  forwards 
and  shook  hands  with  us  all.     We  were  told  that  he 
was    never   sober.      He    had    a  beautiful   daughter, 
with  raven-black   hair.      What  a  solitary  life,  to  be 
immured    up   here    through    the    long   winters,   her 
maudlin  father  being  her  only  companion  !     What  a 
subject    for    a    novelist !     The    Lucases    lived    at 
Hitchin,  the  eldest  being  a  great  huntress. 


260  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

My  dear  daughter  Emily  was  married  to  the 
Rev.  J.  Cornford  October  4,  1865.  The  acquaint- 
ance was  formed  at  Abinger,  where  he  was  reading 
for  orders  with  Mr.  Powell,  the  Rector.  She  had  a 
son  (Leslie)  born  in  May,  1867. 

She  was  taken  from  us  July  30,  1870,  a  victim  to 
consumption,  and  was  buried  at  Claydon,  where  her 
husband  then  had  a  curacy. 

1866.  —  Exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy:  i. 
'  The  Thorn,'  a  sister  (Nelly)  removing  a  thorn 
from  the  hand  of  her  brother  (Arthur)  ;  sold  to 
Agnew.  2.  Portrait  of  Mrs.  James  Brand  and  her 
two  eldest  boys  ;  small  whole-lengths.  3.  Head  of 
W.  Dyce,  life-size,  for  J.  Brand.  In  the  summer 
stayed  at  Burn  Hall,  near  Durham,  with  the 
Mastermans,  and  at  Brinkburn  Priory,  and  rusticated 
with  the  Dyce  family  at  Bowes,  near  Barnard 
Castle. 

In  the  summer  of  1865  Charles  Benning,  Galloway, 
and  I  went  to  Barnard  Castle,  as  trustees  of  Mr.  Ben- 
ning (my  father-in-law),  to  sell  the  properties  there. 
To  me  the  scene  was  amusing.  The  large  room  at 
the  King's  Head  Inn  was  taken  for  the  purpose, 
and  it  was  well  filled  with  farmers  and  many  others 
who  could  not  by  any  possibility  be  supposed  to  be 
in  a  condition  to  buy  land.  The  reason  of  their 
interest  soon  appeared.  The  auctioneer  mounted 
his  rostrum  and  made  a  short  address,  and  then 
Lot  i  was  put  up.  The  biddings  were  slow,  and 
the  advances  small.  Things  hung  fire.  Suddenly 
the  auctioneer  called  out,  '  Coom  now,  gents,  waake 


AN  AUCTION  261 


oop.  John  !'  (to  a  waiter)  '  tak'  soom  poonch  roond  !' 
Immediately  jugs  of  steaming  hot  punch  were 
handed  round  ;  the  farmers  partook,  and  so  did  the 
numerous  hangers-on  who  were  not  in  the  game, 
and  who  drank  as  much  as  they  could  get. 

Auctioneer  :  '  Now,  gents,  let's  try  again  ;  the 
poonch  '11  warm  ye  oop  a  bit.' 

It  had  little  effect  on  the  canny  Yorkshiremen, 
and  the  bidding  was  very  slow  ;  but  at  last  a  climax 
was  reached.  The  auctioneer  then  produced  from 
his  pocket  a  small  minute-glass  and  held  it  up, 
saying,  '  Noo,  gents,  so  mooch  is  bid.  I  turn  my 
glass.'  He  turned  it  no  less  than  five  times. 
Usually,  just  before  the  sand  had  run  out,  a  bid  was 
made.  Then  '  da  capo '  again  and  again.  The 
real  bidders  did  not  seem  to  come  forward  till  this 
wearisome  process  began.  In  the  meantime  the 
punch  circulated  briskly  at  short  intervals,  the 
onlookers  imbibing  it  largely.  At  long  last  a  field 
was  sold,  generally  at  its  lowest  reserved  price.  It 
was  a  long  business,  and  towards  the  end  both 
auctioneer  and  buyers  got  merry  and  noisy,  and 
jokes  were  bandied  about  freely.  The  sums  realized 
were  less  than  the  fields,  etc.,  were  worth,  except 
when  some  very  favourite  fields  with  excellent 
aspect  and  soil  were  up,  and  then  the  bids  came 
sharply.  When  the  sale  for  the  day  was  over,  the 
farmers  adjourned  to  their  public -houses,  and  we 
were  told  that  purchases  often  changed  hands  two 
or  three  times  in  the  evening.  Thus  the  actual 
worth  of  the  lots  was  eventually  reached,  and  even 


262  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

exceeded  ;  but  the  profit  went  to  the  farmers,  not  to 
the  owners,  the  sale  by  the  auctioneer  being  only 
the  first  act  of  the  play. 

We  had  another  sale  in  an  outlying  part  of  the 
country  towards  the  moors.  This  was  also  held  in 
a  country  inn.  There  were  not  more  than  three  or 
four  farmers  to  meet  us,  one  of  whom  alone  meant 
business.  When  the  two  fields  were  put  up  no  one 
responded.  The  auctioneer  got  excited,  coaxed  and 
encouraged  the  principal  farmer,  but  not  a  word  did 
he  say  in  response,  and  the  sale  could  not  go  on  for 
want  of  a  bidder,  although  the  fields  were  lovely, 
sloping  to  the  sun,  with  a  good  farmhouse.  At  last 
we  gave  it  up  and  drove  away,  and  the  farmer  after- 
wards bought  them  for  a  good  round  price  from  the 
auctioneer.  The  only  reason  for  his  not  bidding 
was  his  extreme  shyness,  and  he  looked  as  if  he 
would  wish  to  hide  himself  under  the  table  when 
he  was  appealed  to. 

[Mr.  Cope  served  again  on  the  Council  of  the  Royal 
Academy  in  1866-67,  and  was  appointed  professor  of 
painting  in  1867.  In  this  capacity  he  delivered  a 
series  of  lectures,  giving  six  each  year,  till  the  year 

1875- 

The  following  is  as  complete  a  list  as  can  be 
made  of  the  subjects  in  the  present  somewhat  con- 
fused condition  of  the  MSS.  : 

1.  Introductory  :  Ancient  and  Mediaeval  Art. 

2.  Modern  European  Art. 

3.  Art  (Technical)  and  its  Decline,  and  the  Causes 
of  the  latter. 


PROFESSOR  OF  PAINTING  263 

4.  On  Composition. 

5.  The  Study  of  Nature. 

6.  Execution. 

7.  Design. 

8.  Art  of  Painting  (Technical). 

9.  Early  Flemish  and  Italian  Processes. 
,o.-j 

1 1.  ^Venetian  Colours. 

I2.J 

'  \On  Academies. 

I4.J 

1.5.  Fresco-painting. 

1 6.  Colour  in  Nature. 

17.  Chiaroscuro. 

1 8.  Growth  and  Progress  of  Mediaeval  Art. 

t  Beauty. 
20.  J 

He  was  also  appointed  to  act  as  secretary  of  the 
building  committee  appointed  to  make  arrange- 
ments for  the  change  of  site  from  Trafalgar  Square 
to  Burlington  House.  There  were  fifteen  meetings 
altogether;  the  first  on  November  15,  1866,  and 
the  last  (at  Burlington  House)  on  December  21, 
1868.  He  was  present  at  all  of  these  with  the  ex- 
ception of  two,  when  he  was  unwell,  and  took  a 
prominent  part  in  the  building  scheme  itself,  as  well 
as  in  the  previous  negotiations  with  Government 
which  led  to  the  assignment  of  the  new  site  at 
Burlington  House,  in  exchange  for  the  old  buildings 
of  the  Academy  in  Trafalgar  Square,  required  for 
the  enlargement  of  the  National  Gallery.  Shortly 


264  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

afterwards  he  initiated  a  scheme  of  Academy  reform 
in  regard  to  the  course  of  education  given  in  the 
various  schools,  and  the  following  letter  was  written 
by  the  then  President,  Sir  Francis  Grant,  in  ac- 
knowledgment : 

'  27,  Sussex  Place,  Regent's  Park 

(No  date,  probably  Aov.,  1869). 

'  MY  DEAR  COPE, 

'  You  have  done  a  good  turn  to  the  Academy, 
for  which  I  desire  to  tender  my  thanks.  I  give 
myself  credit  for  getting  you,  Watts,  Leighton,  and 
Redgrave  to  meet,  and  put  down  your  views  on 
paper  in  a  practical  form.  This  you  have  done  with 
much  ability,  and  in  such  an  exceptional  manner 
that  the  Council  were  able  to  adopt  all  your  sugges- 

r 

tions,  and  I  am  sanguine  in  the  expectation  that 
they  will  be  similarly  received  by  the  general  as- 
sembly. I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  mere 
notices  of  motions,  to  be  discussed  viva  voce,  end  in 
nothing ;  but  that  a  well-digested  scheme  in  black 
and  white  is  of  a  tangible  nature,  and  is  sure  to  be 
understood,  and,  if  judicious,  to  be  carried  out. 
'  I  am  ever  yours  very  truly, 

'  FRANCIS  GRANT.'] 

1867. — Exhibited  '  Shylock  and  Jessica,'  sold  to 
Mr.  Tetley,  of  Gledhow,  near  Leeds.  Painted  a 
third  '  Othello  and  Desdemona,'  a  balcony  scene, 
not  exhibited.  Wife  and  I  went  to  stay  with  J.  W. 
Atkinson,  at  Leeds,  to  be  present  at  Charlie's  mar- 


ACADEMY  REFORM  265 

riage  with  his  sister,  my  old  friend  John  Atkinson's 
eldest  daughter.  They  had  long  been  attached  to 
one  another.  The  wedding  was  on  August  7. 
At  that  time  my  son  was  curate  to  Mr.  Wilkinson, 
then  at  Bishop  Auckland,  and  afterwards  was  with 
him  in  his  two  succeeding  parishes,  St.  Peter's, 
Great  Windmill  Street,  and  St.  Peter's,  Eaton 
Square.  In  the  autumn  we  took  rooms  at  Dor- 
chester-on-Thames,  at  Mrs.  Buckingham's,  an  old 
house  near  the  church  with  a  good  garden.  This 
place  exactly  suited  us,  as  I  hired  an  old  wherry, 
and  could  get  down  a  little  stream  into  the  Thames, 
on  which  we  constantly  disported  ourselves,  fishing 
and  sketching.  The  Rector  of  the  fine  old  church 
here,  Mr.  Macfarlane,  kindly  let  us  use  his  garden,  and 
croquet  was  often  played  there.  Mrs.  Buckingham 
kept  many  fowls,  and  the  consumption  of  eggs  was 
enormous.  We  led  a  pleasant  picnicky  life,  mostly 
on  the  river  between  Clifton  Hampden  and  Walling- 
ford,  where  we  went  for  many  necessaries. 

One  day  we  pulled  up  the  river  to  see  a  house  in 
which  we  thought  of  taking  rooms  at  Long  Witten- 
ham.  The  good  woman  said,  '  There  has  been  a 
gentleman  from  Oxford  here  an  hour  ago,  asking  if 
you  were  here,  a  nice-looking  young  gentleman  ;  he 
seemed  disappointed  at  finding  no  one.'  Suddenly 
the  boys,  Harry  and  Arthur,  called  out,  '  Look  at 
Meg,  how  red  she  is !'  They  received  a  sound  box 
on  the  ears  in  reply.  What  could  this  mean  ? 
Opposite  the  mouth  of  our  little  river  was  a  favourite 
camping-ground  for  boating  men,  canoists,  etc.  I 


266  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

was  amused  one  quiet  evening  to  hear  across  the 
water  the  following  conversation  : 

Boating  man    (preparing  his   night's    supper    and 
quarters)  to  a  rustic  boy  :   '  What  church  is  that  ?' 
Boy  :  '  That  be  Dorchester  Church.' 
Boating  man:   '  It's  a  very  high  church,  isn't  it?' 
Boy  :  '  Noa,  it  be  a  long,  low  church.' 
I  caught  large  chub  near  Day's  lock  with  fly. 
I  believe  it  was  in  1867  that  I  was  asked  to  write 
a  report  on  paintings  in  oil  at  the  Great  Exhibition 
in  Paris.      I  took  my  wife  with  me.     On  board  the 
steamer  going  over  we  observed  an  old  gentleman, 
an   invalid,   and  admired  the  tender  care  taken  of 
him  by  his  sons  and  a  daughter.     We  again  met 
him  at  our  hotel.     At  breakfast  he  sat  next  to  my 
wife,  and  had  much  conversation  with  her.    At  last  he 
asked  to  sit  between  us,  and  talked  to  me  also.      He 
was    Sir   James    Shuttleworth,   come    to    report   on 
'  Education  in  France.'     Seeing  him  daily,  our  ac- 
quaintance ripened  into   friendship,   and    I    derived 
great  benefit  from  his  conversation.     We  had  long 
talks,  on  Sundays  and  at  other  spare  times,  on  many 
topics,    even    on    religion,    miracles,    etc.     The    in- 
timacy thus  begun  was  continued  after  our  return  to 
London.      He  greatly  appreciated  the  intellect  and 
brightness  of  my  dear  wife. 

While  in  Paris  we  were  invited  to  a  grand  ball  at 
the  British  Embassy,  where  we  met  several  royalties, 
the  Emperor  of  the  French,  King  of  Belgium, 
Prince  of  Whales,  etc.  The  approach  was  lined  by 
cuirassiers,  amid  a  blaze  of  light.  The  entrance  was 


PARIS  EXHIBITION,  1867  267 

through  the  inner  quadrangle,  covered  with  awning 
and  decorated  over  the  whole  walls  with  peony 
flowers  and  verdure.  The  dancing  commenced  with 
a  quadrille  by  the  royalties,  and  I  observed  that 
Louis  Napoleon  stood  up  with  his  partner,  but 
danced  by  proxy !  At  a  later  hour  the  dancing 
became  general.  It  was  a  remarkable  scene  of 
gaiety,  and  an  assemblage  of  rank  and  talent.  My 
wife  kindly  took  charge  of  Miss  Shuttleworth,  and 
escorted  her  about  the  rooms.  We  walked  to  our 
hotel,  having  taken  suitable  cloaks,  etc.,  as  it  was  a 
most  beautiful  moonlight  night,  and  we  arrived,  I 
believe,  two  hours  earlier  than  our  friends,  who 
waited  for  their  carriage. 

1868. — Pictures:  i.  'Othello's  Story,'  a  night 
scene  (the  one  mentioned  above  as  painted  in  1867), 
for  Mr.  Barrow.  2.  '  The  Pilgrims  at  Emmaus,' 
sold  in  1869  to  Mr.  Strutt,  of  Belper.  3.  Portrait 
of  C.  S.  Benning,  as  a  rifleman,  presented  to  him  ; 
all  sent  to  Royal  Academy.  4.  A  whole-length 
posthumous  portrait  of  Colonel  Trotter,  for  the 
Town  Hall  at  Bishop  Auckland  (not  exhibited). 

In  May  I  went  with  friend  Barrow  to  fish  at 
Chagford,  in  Devonshire,  my  dear  invalid  wife 
being  with  her  married  daughter,  Mrs.  Cornford,  at 
Bath,  for  health's  sake.  She  had  been  ailing  for 
some  months  previously.  It  began  about  January. 
One  morning  I  found  her  in  bed  apparently  sleeping, 
and  I  asked  the  nurse,  who  slept  in  her  room,  why 
she  had  not  called  her.  She  had  not  liked  to  dis- 
turb her,  she  said.  It  was  not  sleep  :  she  was  un- 


268  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

conscious.  When  the  usual  doctor,  Mr.  Roberts, 
came,  he  said  her  left  side  and  arm  and  leg  were 
paralyzed.  I  sent  for  Dr.  Tanner  at  once.  They 
treated  her  successfully,  and  after  many  weeks  sensi- 
bility and  motion  were  restored,  except  in  her  left 
hand.  When  strong  enough,  she  went  to  Emily 
Cornford's,  at  Bath,  and  there  improved  wonderfully. 
After  leaving  Chagford  I  joined  her,  taking  with  me 
a  basketful  of  trout,  of  which  she  was  fond.  Never 
could  I  have  believed  in  the  possibility  of  such  a 
change  for  the  better.  I  stayed  some  days,  and 
took  her  out  for  drives  in  the  pleasant  neighbour- 
hood. Her  enjoyment  and  thankfulness  were  in- 
tense. She  was  able  to  return  home  in  the  early 
summer,  and  Tanner  visited  her.  He  was  surprised 
to  see  her  look  so  well ;  but  after  further  examination 
he  told  me  that  I  might  lose  her  at  any  moment. 
He  thought  the  young  sons  ought  to  be  much  with 
her,  as  '  the  recollection  of  her  sweet  and  gentle 
goodness  might  influence  them  through  life.' 

His  prediction  was  true.  In  July  she  sat  much 
with  me,  but  was  unable  to  discuss  future  plans  of 
education,  etc.,  saying  that  her  judgment  was  gone, 
and  she  left  all  to  be  settled  by  me.  She  then  went 
on  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Dyce,  at  Streatham,  to  whom  she 
was  much  attached.  On  the  28th  (my  birthday),  I  was 
to  go  and  dine  with  them  after  a  Royal  Academy 
meeting.  I  went.  The  silence  in  the  house  seemed 
ominous.  At  length  my  daughter  Margaret  came  into 
the  drawing-room,  and  told  me  it  was  '  all  over.'  I  was 
not  allowed  to  see  her.  A  large  vessel  in  the  heart  had 


DEATH  OF  HIS  WIFE  269 


burst  as  she  was  being  helped  to  dress.  She  was  gone  ! 
My  wife,  my  friend  and  counsellor,  my  playfellow, 
unwearied  in  doing  good,  beloved  of  all,  was  taken 
from  me  !  .  .  .  Dear  Margaret  and  I  drove  silently 
home.  She  was  buried  in  the  same  grave  as  her 
lost  children  in  the  Brompton  cemetery.  Her 
character  was  unique ;  so  earnest,  and  yet  merry, 
and  ever  too  industrious.  When  sometimes  I 
begged  her  not  to  do  so  much,  her  laughing  reply 
was,  '  Better  to  wear  out  than  rust  out.'  I  believe 
that  she  inherited  heart  disease  from  her  father, 
who  died  of  the  same  affection,  not  many  years 
before,  at  Boulogne. 

'  Gone  before, 

To  that  unknown  and  silent  shore, 
Where  we  shall  meet,  as  heretofore, 
Some  summer  morning.' 

Our  children  were  left  to  me.  My  son  Charlie 
and  his  dear  May  persuaded  me  to  go  with  them  for 
a  change,  first  to  Calais,  where  I  wandered  about 
the  dunes,  thence  to  Blankenberghe,  a  seaside 
resort  in  Belgium.  We  also  visited  Bruges, 
Antwerp,  Brussels,  Waterloo,  etc.  They  were  very 
kind  to  me,  but  it  was  a  weary  time,  and  I  was  glad 
to  return  home.  Work  alone  could  divert  my 
thoughts.  I  began  a  small  subject,  '  The  Rivals.'  This 
was  a  slight  subject,  which  should  have  been  treated 
gaily  and  lightly,  but  I  had  no  gaiety  in  me.  It  was 
hard,  and  severe  in  handling.  It  was  a  failure,  and 
I  hate  the  recollection  of  it  even  ;  no  joyous  colour, 
no  spontaneity — done  from  a  sense  of  duty  only. 

1869. — Exhibited  :  i. ''  Home  Dreams,'  a  worn-out 


270  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

seamstress  fallen  asleep  over  her  work.  Agnew  had  it. 
2.  '  The  Domestic  Chaplain/  a  boy  in  velvet  reading 
to  his  invalid  mother,  for  Mr.  Eli  Lees.  3.  A  large 
picture,  life-size,  of  '  Dr.  Hume  reading  to  the  Duke 
of  Wellington  a  list  of  killed,  etc.,  at  the  Battle  of 
Waterloo.'  The  Duke  was  represented  sitting  up  in 
bed,  dishevelled  and  grimy,  as  described  in  Dr. 
Hume's  pamphlet  (and  in  personal  conversation). 
He  had  not  even  changed  his  clothes.  While 
painting  this,  I  had  misgivings  that  the  subject  was 
a  mistake.  No  man  can  look  a  great  hero  under 
such  circumstances  ;  but  I  went  doggedly  on.  The 
critics  abused  it  savagely.  I  destroyed  it.  In  June 
I  took  Margaret  with  me  to  Durham,  where  we 
stayed  with  Canon  Chevalier,  and  I  painted  his 
portrait  for  the  large  dining-hall  at  the  University, 
of  which  he  was  a  professor,  a  large  half-length. 
Also  I  repeated  it,  smaller,  for  his  son-in-law,  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Pearse.  It  was  a  privilege  to  stay  with  the 
Canon,  who  was  a  man  of  strong  character,  lively  and 
affectionate,  and,  although  about  the  age  of  eighty, 
youthful,  enjoying  a  game  of  croquet  in  the  Monks' 
Garden,  and  on  Sundays  cantering  away  on  horse- 
back to  perform  clerical  duties  in  his  parish,  six 
miles  off.  He  took  us  round  his  country  parish,  and 
it  was  interesting  to  see  the  hearty  cordiality  that 
existed  between  him  and  his  parishioners,  which  ex- 
tended to  the  cottage  wives  and  little  children.  His 
love  of  children  was  delightful  to  witness.  His 
niece,  Miss  Chevalier,  presided  over  his  house  grace- 
fully, and  never  seemed  disturbed  when  he  said  to 


DURHAM— DO  V  ED  ALE  271 

her,  perhaps  two  hours  before  dinner-time,  '  Oh,  I 
met  So-and-so,  and  they  are  all  coming  to  dinner.' 

His  hospitality  was  boundless,  and  he  had  a 
strong  sense  of  humour,  and  was  fond  of  reading  to 
us  humorous  poetry  (Calverly,  etc.).  He  did  not 
long  survive  our  visit.  He  was  an  astronomer  and 
mathematician.  After  leaving  Durham  Margaret 
and  I  went  to  Bowes,  to  Mrs.  Highmoor's  inn,  and 
I  got  some  trouting  in  the  Greta,  and  sent  a  basket- 
ful to  Canon  Chevalier. 

1870. — Exhibited  '  Launcelot  Gobbo '  at  the 
Royal  Academy  (Shylock  and  Jessica  looking  at  L. 
Gobbo  asleep  after  his  dinner,  a  buzz  of  flies  round 
his  head.  Shylock  :  'He's  a  huge  feeder,  and  he 
sleeps  by  day  more  than  the  wild  cat '),  for  Mr.  B. 
Peacock,  Gorton  Hall,  Manchester. 

In  June  I  received  a  kind  permission  from  Beres- 
ford-Hope  (whom  I  had  sat  next  to  at  the  Royal 
Academy  banquet)  to  fish  in  the  famous  stream  at 
Dovedale,  and  to  take  with  me  two  friends.  We  went 
(R.  P.  Barrow  and  Watters)  to  Hartington,  where 
Hope's  agent  met  us  ;  and  we  were  informed  that  it 
was  a  very  special  and  unusual  privilege,  as  the  river 
was  closed  to  fishermen  during  a  fortnight  of  the 
may-fly  season,  as  otherwise  the  slaughter  of  trout 
was  too  deadly.  What  sport  we  anticipated,  as  we 
sallied  forth  on  the  first  morning  !  Alas,  fishing  is  a 
precarious  amusement !  V/e  found  the  river  almost 
covered  with  may-flies,  floating  and  fluttering  down 
in  little  islands,  but  not  a  trout  looked  at  them. 
Therefore  there  was  no  use  in  our  trying  to  tempt 


272  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

them  when  they  refused  to  look  at  the  natural  flies. 
We  soon  found  the  reason.  The  farmers  had  been 
sheep-washing  higher  up  the  river,  and  the  oily 
matter  from  the  sheep's  wool  had  sickened  the  fish 
for  miles  -down.  Friend  Barrow,  with  his  usual 
perseverance,  fished  on,  and  succeeded  in  catching 
two  or  three  grayling,  which  I  conclude  are  not  so 
sensitive  as  trout.  Watters  returned  to  our  inn, 
whence  we  heard  the  notes  of  his  violin,  with  which 
he  consoled  himself  for  our  disappointment  on  the 
river. 

Arthur  S.  Cope  was  now  about  thirteen  years  old. 
He  and  Harry  had  been  mostly  educated  by  their 
brother-in-law,  Rev.  James  Cornford,  residing  with 
him,  but  latterly  had  been  at  Norwich  Grammar 
School.  Finding  that  Arthur  had  a  decided  partiality 
for  art,  I  took  him  home  and  sent  him  to  Mr.  Gary's 
Academy  of  Art  (late  Mr.  Sass's)  for  a  year,  during 
which  time  he  made  good  progress.  Drawing  to 
him  seemed  instinctive.  Having  thus  laid  a  solid 
foundation  in  drawing,  I  sent  him  to  school  to 
Biebrich  in  Germany,  for  about  two  years,  to  learn 
modern  languages  ;  at  the  end  of  which  time  he 
returned  home,  and  was  under  my  care  in  art,  and 
obtained  his  studentship  at  the  Royal  Academy 
from  home.  I  had  rather  feared  that,  by  two  years 
of  cessation  from  art  study,  he  would  have  lost  what 
he  had  acquired  ;  but  the  contrary  was  the  case,  as 
I  found  that  he  had  lost  nothing,  but  could  draw 
better  than  when  he  left  off.  He  had  really  kept  up 
his  drawing  by  sketching  his  schoolfellows,  to  send 


VARIOUS  PICTURES  273 

to  their  relatives,  etc.,  and  his  master  was  so 
pleased  with  his  drawings  that  he  gave  him  many 
little  privileges.  In  the  autumn  we  went  to  our  old 
quarters  at  Dorchester,  alas !  without  the  dear 
mother.  In  November  Charlie  .and  May  left  for 
Australia  (on  account  of  his  lungs). 

1871. — Exhibited:  i.  'Gentle  and  Simple,'  a 
young  lady  (May)  instructing  a  rustic  family.  The 
scene  is  the  kitchen  at  Abinger,  where  the  picture 
was  painted.  2.  '  Guy,  the  Bookseller,  consulting 
Dr.  Mead,  President  of  the  College  of  Physicians, 
as  to  the  Plans  of  Guy's  Hospital,'  the  architect  4n 
attendance.  This  picture  was  presented  to  Guy's 
Hospital  (partly  through  the  kindness  of  the  Trea- 
surer, Mr.  Turner),  where  it  still  hangs  in  the  board 
or  dining-room. 

1872. — Exhibited:  i.  'Oliver  Cromwell  and  his 
Secretary,  John  Milton,  receiving  a  Deputation 
seeking  Aid  for  the  Swiss  (?)  Protestants,'  the 
subject  suggested  and  commissioned  by  Mr.  Cres- 
singham,  of  Carshalton.  2.  '  Contrast,'  a  child  with 
fair  hair  (Nelly)  nursing  a  black  terrier  ;  for  Mr. 
White.  3.  '  George  Herbert  educated  at  home  by 
his  Mother,'  for  Mr.  Taylor  Whitehead. 

[The  following  letter  gives  some  interesting 
details  as  to  the  first  of  these  subjects  : 

'  British  Museum, 

'July  27,  1871. 

'  MY  DEAR   COPE, 

'  I   find   the  following  passage  in  a  letter  of 
Nieuport,   the   Dutch  Ambassador   in   England,  to 

18 


274  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


the  States  General  :  "  Some  ministers  and  elders  of 
sundry  churches  in  London  have  been  with  the 
Lord  Protector,  and  have  petitioned,  with  many 
moving  arguments,  that  his  Highness  would  take 
to  heart  the  mournful  condition  of  the  poor  reformed 
inhabitants  of  some  valleys  of  Piedmont ;  for  which 
he  has  thanked  them,  and  declared  that  he  was 
shocked  in  the  highest  degree  at  the  inhuman 
cruelties  which  are  practised  there."  The  Ambas- 
sador himself  had  an  interview  with  Cromwell,  and 
urged  his  interference.  Cromwell  answered  that 
"he  was  moved  at  it  to  his  very  soul,  and  that  he 
was  ready  to  venture  his  all  for  the  protection  of  the 
Protestant  religion,  as  well  here  as  abroad ;  and 
that  he  most  readily  with  your  High  Mightinesses  in 
this  cause  would  swim  or  perish,  trusting  that  the 
Almighty  God  would  revenge  the  same,"  etc.  I 
don't  find  mention  of  any  envoy  from  the  Pro- 
testants themselves.  This  subject  seems  a  really 
good  one,  and  if  I  might  be  so  awfully  impudent  as 
to  suggest  a  ridiculous  idea  of  my  own,  I  would 
propose,  as  you  designed,  that  Milton  should  be 
present,  and  that  Cromwell  might  be  made  to  look 
with  an  appealing  expression  to  him — or  listening, 
if  you  please  —  as  if  they  had  already  exchanged 
sentiments  on  the  subject,  or  that  Milton  was 
speaking  in  their  favour. 

'  Ever  yours, 

(  E.  A.  BOND. 

'  You  will  find  all  you  want  historically  in  Thurloe's 
State  Papers,  vol.  iii.'] 


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GEOLOGICAL  CURIOSITIES  275 

In  June  I  joined  my  friend  Barrow  in  a  fishing 
excursion  to  Canobie,  Dumfriesshire.  We  lived  at 
the  inn,  where  we  were  most  comfortable.  Jack 

B was  with   us.     We  had  fair  sport,  and   on 

some   days    excellent,    killing    upwards    of    twelve 

pounds  of  trout  each.     Friend   B was  a  keen 

angler,  wading  deep  and  working  hard.  He  never 
used  waders,  and  it  was  pleasant  to  see  him,  at  the 
end  of  a  day's  fishing,  coming  in  with  wet  clothes, 
and  a  fine  girl,  the  daughter  of  our  hostess,  pulling 
off  his  blue  worsted  stockings  and  boots  at  the  door. 
He  then  with  bare  feet  paddled  into  the  kitchen, 
where  the  girl  dried  his  feet  in  front  of  the  fire  (like 
Ulysses  and  Euraclea),  while  the  mother  got  him  a 
glass  of  hot  whisky  and  water  ;  and  when  he  was 
clothed  in  dry  things  and  slippers,  how  rosy  and 
benevolent  he  looked  !  There  were  miles  of  water 
and  plenty  of  trout.  While  fishing  up  by  the 
Linns  (?),  I  found  myself  standing  on  a  sort  of 
dome-shaped  rock,  with  fissures,"  where  it  had  been 
upheaved  ;  and,  on  further  observation,  I  saw  that 
the  river  had  worn  its  way  through  the  rocks,  and 
on  the  opposite  side  there  was  displayed  a  section  of 
the  upheaved  rock,  showing  accurately  the  various 
strata  as  clearly  as  if  it  had  been  sawn  through.  I 
afterwards  made  a  rough  sketch  of  the  scene  and 
gave  it  to  Professor  Prestwich,  who  told  me  it  was 
a  well-known  instance  of  upheaval,  and  a  very  in- 
teresting one. 

This  reminds  me  of  another  discovery  I  made  in 
the  Tees  below  Romaldkirk.     In  a  precipitous  rock 


276  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

(?  limestone)  I  observed  what  seemed  to  me  the 
well-marked  impression  of  a  large  serpent  indented 
in  the  rock.  I  made  a  cast  in  plaster  of  Paris  of  a 
portion  of  it,  so  that  it  looked  like  the  body  of  the 
reptile,  as  the  scales  were  perfect.  I  gave  this  to 
Professor  Owen,  who  was  pleased  to  have  it.  He 
told  me  that  it  was  not  a  serpent,  but  a  huge  arm  of 
a  tree,  and  that  it  must  have  been  carried  down  in  a 
flood  before  the  rocks  enclosing  it  were  formed,  and 
previous  to  the  coal  formation.  Part  of  the  branch 
was  entirely  imbedded.  It  was  on  the  left  side  of 
the  river  below  Romaldkirk,  where  the  stream  is 
narrowed  by  rocks  on  either  side. 

1873. — Exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  :  i.  '  Yes  or 
No,'  a  girl  kneeling  at  a  table,  in  doubt  what  answer 
to  return  to  a  'proposal.'  2.  'Gentle  Craft,'  a 
scene  in  a  punt  on  the  Thames  :  lovers  fishing, 
children  and  boatmen  in  background  ;  for  my  friend 
Mr.  Barrow.  I  think  this  picture  was  not  the  worst 
I  have  painted. 

In  June  I  was  deprived  of  my  dear  daughter  and 
playfellow,  Margaret,  by  marriage  with  the  Rev.  A. 
Auchmuty.*  This  was  the  sequel  of  the  adventure 
in  1867  at  Long  Wittenham,  on  the  Thames,  and 
accounted  for  the  maiden's  confusion.  He  had 
been  the  college  chum  at  Oxford  of  my  son  Charles, 
and  I  believe  the  pair  first  met  there  at  the  Com- 
memoration in  1865,  when  Margaret  was  staying  at 
Lincoln  College  with  the  Rector  and  Mrs.  Pattison, 
the  year  my  son  and  his  friend  took  their  degrees. 

*  Scholar  of  Lincoln  Coll.,  Oxon,  and  Newdegate  prizeman,  1865. 


YACHTING  CRUISES  277 

He  had  been  appointed  to  the  Mastership  of  Lucton 
Grammar  School,  in  Herefordshire,  and  the  small 
living  connected  with  it,  a  foundation  by  a  Mr. 
Pierpont,  a  London  citizen,  whose  statue  fills  a 
niche  over  the  entrance,  Hogarthian,  with  long 
periwig.  Arthur  and  I  accepted  a  kind  invitation 
and  joined  my  friend  Armitage  at  Cowes,  and  had 
pleasant  cruising  with  him  in  his  yacht,  the  Alerte, 
mostly  round  the  Isle  of  Wight,  Torquay,  etc.  My 
son  Charles  and  his  wife  returned  from  Australia. 

1874. — Exhibited  at  Royal  Academy:  'Taming 
the  Shrew,'  Petruchio  reading  and  laughing,  Katha- 
rina  at  table,  indignant  ;  servants  removing  dishes 
in  background.  Sold  to  J.  Fielden,  Esq.,  Dobroyd 
Castle,  Todmorden. 

Arthur  and  I  again  joined  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Armitage 
in  the  Alerte,  and  cruised  to  the  Channel  Islands, 
Brest,  and  along  the  French  coast  to  Douarneney, 
La  Croix  Islands,  and  Port  Louis  ;  then  by  land  to 
Quimper  and  Auray,  and  sailed  down  the  river  in  a 
boat  to  Carnac.  Back  to  the  yacht,  and  crossed  to 
Belle  Isle.  Then  back  to  Concarneau,  where  we  were 
detained  some  days  by  a  calm  ;  and  at  last  set  sail 
along  the  coast,  anchoring  one  night  at  sea.  Then 
made  sail  for  the  Isle  of  Wight  in  half  a  gale  and  a 
rough  sea,  but  made  Guernsey  instead  ;  anchored 
there,  and  sailed  for  England  with  a  fair  breeze  the 
next  day.  It  was  a  most  enjoyable  excursion  in  all 
respects.  We  arrived  home  about  September  1 2. 

1875. — '  Home  Attraction,'  sent  to  Royal  Aca- 
demy ;  sold  to  J.  Robinson,  Esq.,  of  Edenhurst, 


278  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Sevenoaks.  (I  forget  this  picture.)  I  also  sold  to 
Mr.  Bowles  a  small  picture  of  Nelly  at  work,  sitting 
at  a  window.  Part  of  the  price  of  this  picture  was 
contributed  to  a  fund  to  help  Mrs.  Gerrard.  Stayed 
with  James  Brand  (for  part  of  the  time)  while 
painting  the  Royal  Academy  Council  picture  (below). 
1876.  —  Exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  a  large 
picture  of  '  The  President  and  Council  of  the  Royal 
Academy  sitting  for  the  Selection  of  Pictures  for  the 
Annual  Exhibition.'  It  contained  portraits  of  mem- 
bers, the  secretary,  and  carpenters,  under  Pattison, 
the  foreman.  The  picture  was  purchased  by  my 
friend  George  Moore,  and  presented  by  him  to  the 
Royal  Academy,  where  it  hangs  in  the  Council 
Room. 


[279] 


CHAPTER  IX. 

TRIP      TO      AMERICA. 

HAVING  been  invited  by  the  Royal  Academy  to 
represent  them  at  the  Centennial  Exhibition  at 
Philadelphia  as  a  juror  on  the  fine  arts,  I  took 
Arthur  with  me,  and  crossed  over  in  May  in  the 
steamship  China.  A  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  is 
always  amusing,  from  the  great  variety  of  characters 
on  board.  The  change  that  has  taken  place  in  our 
American  cousins  is  marked  mostly  in  their  language 
and  manners.  They  are  much  more  sociable  and 
talkative  with  strangers,  and  less  exclusive  than  the 
untravelled  John  Bull,  upon  whom  they  seem  to 
look  with  amused  curiosity.  In  our  ship's  company 
there  was  also  a  great  sprinkling  of  other  nation- 
alities going  to  Philadelphia  as  jurors  or  exhibitors. 
Amongst  the  latter  who  sat  at  our  table  at  meals 
was  a  thorough  good  specimen  of  John  Bull,  with 
his  nice  little  daughter.  At  first  I  took  them  for 
yachting  people,  but  afterwards  found  that  the  father 
was  the  famous  horticulturist,  Mr.  Waterer,  who 
was  taking  over  a  large  collection  of  rare  camellias 
for  exhibition — a  hearty,  jolly  man,  with  good  sea- 


280  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

legs  and  a  good  appetite,  and  a  sturdy  defender  of 
everything  English,  in  opposition  to  Yankees,  with 
whom  he  delighted  to  argue.  At  the  same  cabin- 
table  was  a  Mr.  Paget,  juror  on  clothing  machinery, 
a  Swedish  juror  (a  nice  fellow),  and  a  Bostonian 
lady  and  her  niece.  At  first  we  were  crowded,  but 
after  leaving  Queenstown  and  getting  into  the 
Atlantic,  empty  spaces  occurred  at  table,  and  we 
had  more  room.  Some  ladies  never  reappeared  till 
we  got  to  Boston. 

I  was  amused  at  the  contrast  between  British  and 
American  boys.  A  nice  American  lad,  about  eleven 
or  twelve,  seemed  quite  alone,  so  I  talked  to  him 
and  he  got  playful,  until  one  day  in  joke  I  lifted  him 
up  and  said,  '  Would  you  like  to  have  a  swim  over- 
board ?'  His  manner  changed,  and  he  said,  '  If  you 
don't  put  me  down,  I'll  stick  my  knife  into  you! 
The  poor  lad's  parents  were  ill,  the  mother  in  bed. 
and  the  father  on  deck  near  the  warm  engine-room 
in  a  sad  plight.  We  had  a  fair  passage,  and  I 
observed  that  when  within  two  or  three  days  of  the 
American  coast,  most  of  the  American  passengers 
appeared  in  thick  cloaks  and  warm  wraps,  as  the 
weather  got  cold  from  the  sea  not  being  clear  of 
winter  ice  from  the  North  Pole.  I  found  that  no 
bathing  begins  before  July  is  past.  Mr.  Waterer's 
political  disputes  were  cut  short  by  a  sharp  attack  of 
gout,  and  his  time  was  spent  on  a  sofa  in  the  chief 
engineer's  cabin  ;  and  we,  of  course,  looked  after  his 
daughter,  walked  her  up  and  down  the  deck,  and 
put  her  chair  in  sheltered  places. 


BOSTON  CITY  281 


How  interesting  is  the  first  view  of  a  new 
continent !  The  bright,  sunny  buildings  and  the 
deep  blue  of  sea  and  sky  contrasted  sadly  with  an 
approach  to  our  dusky  gray  island,  and  Boston 
interested  us  also  from  recollection  of  the  contests  at 
Bunker's  Hill,  etc.,  in  the  American  War.  Near 
Boston  an  old  lady  reappeared  on  deck,  and  asked 
who  I  was,  and  why  I  was  coming  to  Boston.  I 
told  her.  '  Then,'  said  she,  '  will  you  advise  me 
what  to  do  with  some  very  fine  works  of  art,  mostly 
sculpture,  which  I  have,  but  boxed  up  in  a  ware- 
house, and  I  want  to  sell  them  ?  Would  you  act 
as  my  agent  ?'  She  was  very  kind  in  giving  me 
addresses  of  hotels  and  restaurants  where  I  could 
dine  not  extravagantly,  and  particularly  she  told  me 
to  dine  at  the  '  Equitable,'  up  eight  stories  high  by  a 
lift.  We  did  so,  and  had  a  grand  view  of  the  har- 
bour, etc.,  and  were  waited  on  by  negroes  for  the  first 
time.  WThile  standing  on  the  flat  roof,  railed  round, 
a  gentleman  and  lady  came  up,  and  he  asked  me  : 

'  Are  you  a  Britisher  ?' 

'  Yes.' 

'  Wall  then,  I'll  point  out  to  you  places  connected 
with  your  whipping.' 

And  so  he  did,  and  it  was  very  interesting  to  us. 
He  told  us,  pointing  with  his  finger,  that  in  a  certain 
window  of  a  meeting-house  a  signal-light  was  shown 
as  soon  as  the  '  Britishers '  departed,  and  that  it 
would  be  repeated  at  various  distances,  so  that  the 
whole  country  might  be  prepared  to  resist  us  at  any 
other  place  of  our  landing,  and  the  American  troops, 


282  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

who  were  few  in  number,  might  be  put  along  the 
coast  for  that  purpose.  He  and  his  lady  then 
invited  us  to  stay  a  few  days  with  them,  and  he 
would  take  us  all  about  to  places  of  interest ;  yet 
these  kind  people  did  not  know  even  our  names. 
But  we  had  to  push  on  to  our  destination. 

We  went  by -the  Fall  River  line  ;  took  cars  from 
Old  Colony  station,  and  embarked  on  one  of  their 
huge  floating  hotels  for  New  York.  It  was  de- 
lightful travelling.  Each  traveller  had  a  separate 
little  cabin.  These  ran  all  round  the  big  ship,  and 
were  entered  from  the  large  central  drawing-room 
saloon.  Their  windows  looked  seawards,  and  it  was 
pleasant  to  lie  in  a  snug  little  bed  from  which  you 
could  see  the  passing  distant  shore.  The  dining- 
saloon  was  below  the  drawing  -  room  one.  The 
furniture  was  luxurious,  the  carpets  soft,  making  the 
footsteps  noiseless.  What  one  missed  was  an  upper 
deck  !  The  only  place  for  getting  fresh  air  was  a 
portion  of  the  bows.  We  went  to  Philadelphia  by 
railway,  and  put  up  at  St.  George's  Hotel,  very 
luxurious,  but  expensive  (I  think  4  dollars,  ie., 
1 6s.,  a  day).  Here  we  remained  about  a  fortnight, 
when  our  fellow  -  traveller  Paget  told  me  that  he 
had  advertised  in  a  daily  paper  (delivered  gratis) 
for  lodgings,  and  he  had  some  fifty  or  more  replies, 
and  he  gave  us  the  bundle  of  answers  in  case  we 
cared  to  choose  from  among  them.  The  result  was 
that  we  got  board  and  lodgings  with  a  private 
family  ;  for  during  that  year  our  landlady  told  us  the 
only  way  not  to  have  your  house  filled  with  private 


PHILADELPHIA  283 


friends  was  to  'entertain  strangers,'  who  were  also 
more  lucrative  and  less  troublesome.  They  were 
kind  people,  and  we  were  fairly  comfortable,  but  the 
attendance  was  poor ;  and  the  temperature,  during 
'the  heated  term,'  as  they  call  it,  perhaps  made  us 
fastidious,  and  we  missed  our  luxuries  at  St. 
George's,  where  we  had  plenty  of  ice  and  heaps  of 
strawberries  at  dessert,  and  where  there  were 
comparatively  few  flies.  Here  we  could  scarcely 
eat  or  sleep  for  them.  Our  bedrooms  communicated 
by  a  door,  and  I  was  amused,  on  going  to  awake 
Arthur,  to  see  only  a  sheeted  human  form,  the  only 
exposed  part  being  his  nose,  on  which  sat  and 
buzzed  a  crowd  of  fiies.  This  was  the  first  night. 
On  the  second,  before  Arthur  went  to  bed,  he 
opened  wide  his  window  and  with  a  wet  towel  went 
whisking  about,  driving  all  his  flies  out  of  window 
and  into  my  room.  I,  from  bed,  expostulated.  '  Oh,' 
said  he,  '  when  I  have  driven  mine  all  out,  I  will 
also  drive  out  yours.'  He  shut  the  door  and  began 
a  performance  for  my  benefit,  and  really  almost 
cleared  the  room,  and  we  then  got  some  quiet  sleep. 
Fine  '  summer  heat '  has  its  disadvantages  ! 

I  need  not  describe  the  business  part  of  our 
duties.  The  whole  body  of  judges  or  jurors  were 
first  invited  to  meet  the  president  of  the  exhibition, 
who  made  a  long  speech  of  '  welcome,'  which  was 
replied  to  by,  I  think,  Sir  C.  Reed,  the  juror  for 
education.  Each  section  was  then  told  off  to  its 
respective  rooms  in  the  judges'  building.  I  was 
elected  president  for  the  fine  arts.  Our  committee 


284  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

was  composed  of  representatives  of  all  civilized 
peoples,  speaking  their  own  languages,  but  supposed 
to  speak  English  also.  We  worked  hard  daily  from 
nine  to  five,  except  an  hour  for  luncheon.  We  each 
made  a  list  of  those  pictures  in  any  particular  room 
agreed  upon  which  we  thought  most  worthy.  Each 
then  proposed,  in  turn,  a  work  to  be  awarded  a 
medal.  A  vote  was  then  taken,  and  a  result  arrived 
at  ;  and  so  on  with  each  nationality.  The  secretary, 
Nichols,  recorded  the  decisions.  We  got  on  har- 
moniously, on  the  whole.  The  only  friction  was 
between  the  Americans,  who  seemed  to  consider 
themselves  rather  advocates  for  painters  of  their 
own  several  States  than  judges.  I  remonstrated 
privately,  and  the  reply  was  that,  unless  a  juror 
fought  hard  for  his  own  place,  it  would  be  resented 
when  he  returned  home  ! 

One  day  I  received  a  visit  in  the  judges'  room 
from  Miss  Waterer,  telling  me  that  her  father  had 
been  robbed  in  his  lodgings  of  a  large  sum  in 
greenbacks.  Our  secretary,  Nichols,  was  having 
lunch  at  a  table  near,  so  I  applied  to  him  for  advice. 
He  said,  '  Leave  it  to  me  to  put  iiito  the  hands  of 
the  police ;  the  money  will  be  restored,  and  if  the 
thief  is  not  found,  they  (the  police)  will  be  the 
losers.'  All  this  being  arranged,  Miss  Waterer,  who 
had  left,  returned  in  haste  to  say  that  the  money 
was  all  safe.  She  had  found  it  in  some  pocket  of 
the  trousers  her  father  had  worn  ihe  day  before. 
What  a  laugh  we  had !  Mr.  Waterer's  landlady,  a 
very  handsome,  tall  woman,  was  furious.  '  English- 


JUDGING  THE  PICTURES  285 

men  were  so  careless !  The  reputation  of  her 
boarding-house  might  be  wrecked,  and  her  servants' 
characters  ruined.'  My  friend  (as  he  became),  Mr. 
Waterer,  had  very  nice  quarters  in  her  large  airy 
house,  and  we  frequently  sat  with  him  in  the  cool 
evenings  in  '  the  piazer,'  smoking  and  chatting, 
while  the  fire-flies  flitted  all  around  us. 

We  were  joined  occasionally  by  another  boarder, 
a  most  interesting  gentleman,  also  a  'judge' — I  think, 
in  agricultural  matters.  He  was  a  man  of  large 
property  in  the  Southern  States,  and  had  suffered 
greatly  during  the  war  between  North  and  South. 
While  discussing  produce,  he  mentioned  the  fineness 
of  the  pigs  in  his  country,  and  the  wholesomeness 
and  delicacy  of  their  flesh,  which  he  attributed  partly 
to  their  superior  food.  In  the  autumn  they  mostly 
fed  on  peaches.  I  was  surprised,  but  he  added, 
'  They  are  almost  wild  peaches  ;  I  have  about  ten 
miles  of  them.'  Mr.  Waterer  and  he  discussed 
farming  matters,  but  I  observed  that  Mr.  Waterer 
was  frequently  silenced  by  the  other's  arguments. 
He  was  a  man  of  gentle  voice  and  manners,  but 
profound,  and  one  with  whom  one  would  wish  to  be 
intimate,  politically  as  well  as  socially. 

The  duties  of  the  judges'  hall  were  pleasantly 
varied  by  the  mid-day  rest  and  the  luncheons  of 
excellent  cold  beef  and  light  claret  (the,  American 
beef  is  very  superior,  but  not  the  mutton)  on  the 
extensive  flat  roof  of  a  restaurant  pleasantly  shaded 
by  a  large  awning,  which  admitted  plenty  of  air  but 
excluded  the  sun.  Then  there  was  a  pleasant,  cool 


286  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

thatched  Swiss  luncheon  -  place,  where  everything 
was  of  milk  or  cream,  ices,  custards,  etc.,  served  by 
pretty  Swiss  girls. 

It  was  a  festive  season  in  Philadelphia,  and 
hospitalities  were  general.  One  of  our  committee, 
Mr.  Claghorn,  a  banker,  gave  us  frequent  dinners. 
One  day,  while  engaged  in  committee  work,  a  card 
was  brought  up  to  me  with  the  name  '  Caleb  Cope.' 
I  went  out  and  met  a  thin  old  gentleman  with  white 
hair,  dressed  in  a  gray  suit.  He  told  me  that  we 
had  interchanged  letters  years  before,  and  he  had 
called  on  me  to  offer  the  hospitalities  of  his  house. 
It  was  true  ;  he  had  seen  my  name  in  art  papers, 
and  had  wished  to  know  if  we  were  connected 
remotely.  He  had  also  sent  an  engraving  of  three 
'brothers  Cope.'  Two  were  dead.  Nothing  came 
of  it  at  that  time,  but  it  was  the  cause  of  our 
subsequent  acquaintance  and  friendship  in  America. 
Would  I  come  and  stay  at  his  country  house  at 
Chestnut  Hill,  about  ten  miles  distant,  to  which 
there  was  a  railway  ?  I  was  too  busy  at  the  time, 
and  too  tired  in  the  evenings  to  do  aught  but  go 
early  to  bed  ;  but  I  promised,  when  my  duties  were 
over,  I  would  visit  him. 

I  was  then  unwell  and  had  to  see  a  doctor,  and 
when  restored  to  health  the  doctor  kindly  insisted 
on  driving  Arthur  and  me  up  the  lovely  valley  of 
the  river  Wizzahickon.  He  had  a  fine  pair  of 
horses,  and  a  light  open  carriage  with  delicate  thin 
wheels  of  lancewood.  It  was  a  long  but  delightful 
drive,  and  we  arrived  at  Chestnut  Hill  rather  late 


AMERICAN  HOSPITALITY  287 


for  dinner,  which  was  half  over.  We  were  received 
by  the  old  gentleman  most  cordially,  and  he  said  : 

'  Who  is  your  friend  who  drove  you  ?  Will  he 
not  stay  and  dine,  while  the  horses  rest  in  my 
stables  ?' 

I  regretted  that  I  had  never  heard  his  name,  as 
he  was  my  host's  family  doctor,  and  they  had  sent 
for  him  ;  I  did  not  know.  However,  he  was  kindly 
bade  to  stay,  and  joined  the  party  of  six  or  eight, 
and  they  soon  found  they  had  mutual  friends.  Mr. 
Caleb  had  a  very  handsome  young  wife,  a  lady  from 
the  Southern  States,  and  two  sons.  When  the 
doctor's  horses  came  round,  about  eleven  o'clock,  I 
had  an  opportunity  of  asking  him  to  let  me  know  by 
letter  the  pecuniary  amount  of  my  debt  to  him. 

'  Nothing,'  said  he  ;  '  I  am  proud  to  have  been  of 
any  service  to  a  Britisher,'  etc.  And  he  was  too 
positive  to  resist,  and  drove  off  in  the  dark 
laughing. 

Oh,  the  pleasure  of  cool  rooms  in  the  fresh  air  of 
the  country,  and  the  being  hushed  to  sleep  by  the 
waving  murmur  of  the  trees  !  My  bedroom  was 
luxurious,  with  five  windows  and  jalousie  blinds,  ad- 
mitting air  but  excluding  light.  In  the  centre  was  a 
marble  table,  on  which  were  wines  and  liqueurs, 
lemons,  and  a  large  block  of  ice.  On  the  dressing- 
table  were  new  brushes  of  all  kinds,  in  their  paper 
packets  as  they  had  arrived  from  the  shops.  On 
the  bed  were  two  very  light  gossamer  blankets,  and 
others  hanging  over-  the  bed-rail  to  be  added  if 
necessary.  All  our  linen  requiring  it  was  removed, 


288  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

and  reappeared  next  day  washed  and  re-buttoned, 
and  all  seemed  done  without  hands,  for  I  saw  no 
servant.  I  still  had  to  go  to  committee  work  occa- 
sionally at  the  city  by  railway,  and  when  I  returned 
Mrs.  Caleb  would  say,  '  Now,  go  and  refresh  your- 
self and  get  rid  of  dust,  and  then  join  me  in  the 
piazer.' 

This  ran  round  the  house,  so  that  there  was 
always  a  shady  side  where  it  was  cool.  She  was  a 
sweet  woman,  with  lots  of  talk,  as,  indeed,  have  all 
American  ladies,  and  yet  she  was  simple.  She  told 
me  she  had  once  been  in  England,  and  at  Oxford 
she  had  '  met  a  very  agreeable  young  man — did  I 
know  him  ?'  '  Alas,  no  !'  Mr.  Caleb  was  a  banker, 
but  he  often  returned  early  and  took  us  for  a  drive 
through  pretty  scenery.  His  coachman,  a  hand- 
some Irishman,  with  a  fine  brown  beard,  had  been 
through  the  wars  with  the  Southern  States.  Al- 
though he  could  leave  at  any  time,  he  had  been  with 
them  for,  I  think,  fifteen  years.  The  women  'helps,' 
however,  were  constantly  changing. 

Mr.  Caleb  Cope's  two  sons  used  to  have  great 
romps  with  Arthur  in  the  garden,  'fighting  the 
Englishman,'  as  they  called  it.  In  a  sort  of  park- 
like  field,  beyond  the  large  garden,  was  a  circular 
clump  of  fine  trees,  under  which  was  a  fountain  of 
clear,  ice-cold  water,  with  seats  around  in  the  shade. 
This  was  also  accessible  to  the  public,  and  seemed 
much  appreciated,  but  not  abused,  as  such  places  are 
too  often  with  us.  We  spent  about  a  fortnight  with 
these  hospitable  friends,  and  when  we  talked  of 


BLACK  WAITERS  289 


taking  leave  they  would  not  hear  of  it.  However, 
we  were  allowed  to  go  on  condition  that  we  should 
return  after  our  stay  at  the  seaside,  and  Mr.  Cope 
gave  us  a  letter  to  the  Quaker  landlord  of  an  hotel 
at  '  Atlantic  City '  on  the  sea.  It  was  a  large  hotel. 
No  wine  was  allowed  ;  finding  which,  some  of  our 
compatriots,  'judges,'  left,  as  'without  champagne 
they  could  not  dine.'  I  observed  that  most  of  the 
guests  were  Quakers — intelligent,  healthy,  strong- 
looking  people. 

The  meals  were  excellent,  and  the  service  con- 
ducted by  a  staff  of  black  waiters  under  the  com- 
mand of  a  chef,  a  very  handsome,  compactly-built 
man,  in  the  finest  linen  and  the  smartest  satin  ties  of 
primrose  or  pale  blue,  which  set  off  his  dark  skin  to 
advantage.  I  was  interested  in  these  black  people. 
They  were  very  zealous  in  their  duties,  and  when 
dinner  was  over  they  all  adjourned  to  some  rough 
ground  near  the  sea  and  played  at  rounders.  They 
seemed  a  happy,  contented,  merry  set,  constantly  sing- 
ing and  laughing.  Their  peculiar  laugh,  a  sort  of 
'  ugh,  ugh,'  seemed  to  come  from  deep  chest  recesses  ; 
and  when  one  of  them,  while  running  after  a  ball, 
fell  into  a  depression  of  the  ground  hidden  by  a  bush 
of  weeds,  and  his  heels  appeared  above  it  in  the  air, 
the  general  laugh  was  contagious,  in  which  the  negro 
who  had  disappeared  heartily  joined  when  he  rose, 
as  his  white  teeth  glittering  in  the  sun  showed  us. 

In  the  evenings  there  was  a  general  parade  of 
visitors  on  a  walk  above  the  track,  and  I  was  much 
struck  by  the  beauty  of  girls  about  fifteen  or  sixteen 

19 


290  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

years  old,  who  retained  all  the  lissomness  of  youth 
with  a  developed  womanly  shape.  They  wore  no 
bonnets,  but  some  flimsy  stuff  over  their  heads, 
which  fluttered  in  the  sea-breezes.  For  bathing 
purposes  the  bathers  undressed  in  fixed  shelters 
lining  the  beach,  from  which  they  emerged  and 
went  across  the  sands  in  bathing  costumes  of  all 
colours.  It  was  a  pretty  sight.  At  our  hotel,  sitting 
in  the  piazza  after  early  dinner  was  the  custom.  I 
was  reading  one  day,  when  a  pretty  young  girl  came 
timidly  up  to  me  and  said  '  she  was  the  bearer  of  an 
invitation  to  join  some  ladies  who  were  desirous 
of  knowing  an  Englishman.'  I  was  alarmed,  but 
followed  her,  and  found  myself  seated  amongst  some 
eight  or  ten  ladies.  I  underwent  a  searching  ex- 
amination into  English  politics,  our  opinions  of 
Americans,  games,  society  habits,  dress,  marriage 
engagements,  and  many  other  topics.  I  replied  as 
well  as  I  could,  and  they  seemed  interested,  and 
were  most  courteous.  After  about  an  hour  I  got 
tired,  and  so  I  began  to  ask  them  questions. 
Amongst  other  things,  I  asked  about  the  '  ranche 
life '  in  the  Far  West,  two  of  the  ladies  being 
natives  of  those  parts ;  and  I  had  a  most  interesting 
account,  of  their  ways  of  living,  and  the  extent  of 
the  various  ranches.  Some  were  many  miles  in 
extent.  They  had  mostly  Chinese  servants ;  the 
cooks  were  always  Chinese.  The  wages  of  their 
cooks  -were  ^50  a  year,  or  even  more  ;  and  they 
were  very  independent,  having  their  own  way  in 
everything,  otherwise  they  left. 


QUAKER  FRIENDS  291 

I  had  also  interesting  talks  with  an  aged  couple, 
the  parents  of  our  host,  who  were  on  a  visit.  They 
wished  to  make  me  a  Quaker !  At  first  I  was 
rather  more  than  a  match  for  the  venerable  old  man, 
but  on  the  second  seance  he  was  fortified  by  his 
wife,  a  most  sweet-expressioned  old  woman,  in  her 
becoming  neat  costume  of  folded  muslin  over  her 
black  dress.  I  happened  to  tell  them  that  one  of 
my  earliest  and  best  friends  was  a  Quaker  (or 
Friend),  and  so  they  were  kindly  disposed  towards 
me.  After  a  few  days  the  husband  came,  armed 
with  controversial  books,  extracts  from  which  he 
read,  and  wished  me  to  read  others  which  he  would 
lend  me.  This  became  serious,  and  I  got  off  by 
saying  I  hated  controversy,  and  as  my  stay  was 
nearly  at  an  end  I  had  no  time  left.  We  took  a 
tender  farewell ;  we  shook  hands,  and  they  regretted 
my  departure,  and  the  old  man  gave  me  his  blessing. 
A  venerable,  kindly,  good  couple ! 

As  the  little  town  seemed  raised  out  of  the  sea 
marshes,  I  asked  about  the  water-supply,  which  was 
clear  and  soft,  and  was  told  that  the  basement  under 
each  house  was  one  large  cistern,  filled  in  winter 
with  rain-water,  which  lasted  through  the  summer 
season.  The  wind  usually  blew  from  the-  land,  but 
when  from  the  sea  the  mosquitoes,  which  had  been 
driven  by  the  wind  seawards,  returned  in  swarms. 
They  were  the  largest  I  had  ever  seen,  and  would 
bite  through  thick  hairy  trousers.  The  knee,  while 
sitting,  was  the  favourite  point  of  attack. 

We  returned  to  our  friends  at  Chestnut  Hill  for  a 


292  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

few  days  before  leaving  for  England.  Never  did 
anyone  receive  greater  hospitality  and  gentle  kind- 
ness, and  we  left  them  with  regret  and  the  painful 
reflection  that  we  should  meet  no  more,  as  my 
friend  was  over  eighty  years  of  age  and  rather 
fragile,  though  lively.  We  corresponded  for  some 
years  after  we  left,  but  at  last  this  ceased,  and  I  can 
but  think  sadly  of  the  probable  cause  of  the 
cessation. 

When  we  had  finished  our  duties  as  judges,  and 
sent  in  our  report,  I  was  free,  and  we  started  for 
Niagara  Falls,  stopping  for  a  couple  of  days  at 
Watkins'  Glen,  a  romantic  gorge  with  a  stream 
through  it.  The  hotel  was  delightfully  quiet.  The 
meals  were  served  in  an  ornamented  out-building  on 
the  other  side  of  the  ravine,  approached  by  a  bridge 
over  the  chasm.  The  servants  were  all  very  pretty 
girls  in  quiet  uniforms.  In  manners  they  were 
ladylike,  courteous,  but  perfectly  self-possessed  and 
quiet,  invulnerable  to  the  wiles  of  '  'Any.'  We 
were  not  able  to  get  on  the  whole  distance,  as  there 
was  no  train  on  Sunday,  and  we  had  to  remain  two 
days  at  Elmira,  although  only  two  or  three  hours 
from  Niagara.  Here  I  was  unwell  from  a  slight 
touch  of  sunstroke.  The  landlord  said  I  must  see 
a  doctor,  as  I  might  have  an  infectious  disorder,  and 
he  was  bound  by  law  in  that  case  to  decline  my 
company  !  A  young  man  came,  regretted  that  his 
father  was  away,  but  said  that  he  wTas  competent  as  a 
medico.  He  stethoscoped  me  !  I  told  him  it  was 
my  head,  which  I  could  not  raise.  So  he  sat  down 


SUNSTROKE— NIAGARA  293 

and  asked  about  England.  Then  he  got  up  and 
looked  at  my  tongue. 

'  Ah,'  said  he,  '  that's  the  mischief !  Quite  dis- 
coloured.' 

(I  had  been  eating  a  few  blackberries.)  He  sent 
me  something  to  cool  me,  and  as  soon  as  I  could 
raise  my  head,  with  Arthur's  help,  I  got  up,  and  we 
departed. 

We  spent  four  or  five  days  at  Niagara,  which 
daily  more  and  more  impressed  us.  Arthur  went 
under  the  American  fall,  having  changed  his  clothes 
for  oilskin  cap  and  coverings,  on  which  the  spray 
rattled  as  he  picked  his  way  over  the  rocks.  I  was 
too  heated  to  venture,  as  it  was  towards  evening, 
and  the  guide  said  the  sun  was  too  low  to  dry  my 
clothes.  Arthur  made  some  sketches.  I  was  asto- 
nished at  the  verdure,  and  the  large  size  of  the 
leaves  on  the  trees,  '  I  guess '  caused  by  the  constant 
spray  and  hot  sun.  Rambling  above  the  Falls,  I 
met  a  stalwart  Britisher,  and  we  joined  company  in 
a  stroll — a  most  intelligent  man.  There  were  other 
English  'judges'  in  the  hotel  :  Mr.  W.  H.  Barlow 
(for  motors)  and  family,  and  a  Mr.  Isaac  Watts 
(for  cotton  yarns),  who  was  generally  thirsty,  and 
greatly  appreciated  sherry-cobblers,  gin-sling,  etc. 

We  went  by  steamer  down  Lake  Ontario,  a  still, 
quiet  expanse  with  no  features  of  interest,  on  board 
which  I  met  my  companion  of  Niagara,  and  we 
chummed  together.  He  was  in  command  of  our 
artillery  in  Canada.  Also  there  were  the  wife  and 
child  of  the  Governor  of  Canada,  with  whom  we 


294  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

conversed.  The  Colonel  discoursed  strongly  upon 
the  absolute  necessity  of  closer  union  between  Eng- 
land and  her  colonies  ;  and  when  I  said  it  was  a 
subject  not  in  my  line,  he  told  me  it  was  the  duty 
of  every  intelligent  Englishman  to  urge  its  necessity 
on  every  possible  occasion. 

We  touched  at  Toronto,  and  slept  at  Montreal. 
On  coming  down  the  St.  Lawrence  River  we  were 
steered  by  a  grand  old  fellow,  a  native  Indian.  We 
passed  Indian  villages  composed  of  small  hut-like 
houses  in  streets,  each  with  its  village  church  with 
shining  tin  steeple.  The  '  rapids  '  required  good 
steering  through  the  boiling  whirlpools,  which 
caused  the  ship  to  whirl  round  and  roll  unpleasantly, 
but  this  was  corrected  by  the  rudder.  On  board  we 
had  a  round-bodied  comic  jester,  dressed  in  black, 
who  described  the  scenery,  etc.  He  said  the 
Indians  lived  by  fishing  and  poaching,  and  also  by 
thieving.  The  women  made  moccasins  and  other 
articles  with  grass,  beads,  and  feathers.  We  met 
with  some  of  them  at  our  hotel  at  Montreal.  They 
were  rather  good  -  looking,  copper  -  coloured,  with 
black,  straight  hair  and  glittering  black  eyes.  I 
regret  not  to  have  gone  on  to  Quebec  and  tried  to 
realize  Wolfe's  achievements,  his  climb  up  the  steep 
hill,  and  battle  on  the  Heights  of  Abraham.  From 
Montreal  we  went,  by  Lake  Champlain  and  Lake 
George,  to  Saratoga  through  a  splendid  country. 

Saratoga  is  a  town  of  large  hotels.  Ours,  a 
principal  one,  is  a  type  of  most  of  them.  The  place 
was  a  large  hollow  square.  On  each  side  were 


SARATOGA  295 


splendid  dining  and  drawing  rooms,  each  occupying 
one  whole  side  of  the  quadrangle.  In  the  centre 
was  a  garden,  with  large  trees,  and  in  it  was  an 
assembly  room  for  balls,  as  well  as  a  separate 
building  for  private  '  families  with  children '  and 
nurses.  The  drawing  -  room  had  every  luxury  in 
couches,  etc.,  of  silk  and  velvet  damask,  carpets  of  the 
softest  texture  and  richest  colours,  so  that  there  was 
perfect  stillness  and  quiet  peace.  The  dining-hall 
had  separate  tables,  and  about  sixty  or  more  negro 
waiters  attended.  While  you  dined,  you  were 
gently  fanned  to  keep  off  flies.  The  very  offices, 
lavatories,  etc.,  were  of  cedar  panelling.  What  our 
most  modern  hotels  are  I  know  not,  but  I  never 
saw  such  refined  luxury.  In  the  ball-room  was  a 
large  allegorical  picture  by  a  great  French  artist, 
and  a  splendid  band  of  musicians.  I  need  not 
mention  halls  for  writing,  newspapers,  etc.  ;  there 
was  a  post-office  in  the  entrance  hall,  and  everything 
was  conducted  with  absolute  privacy  and  quiet.  Of 
course  we  imbibed  a  little  of  the  famous  Saratoga 
spring  water,  served  out  in  glasses  from  a  circular 
marble  table  in  a  garden.  We  left  early  in  the 
morning,  and  had  breakfast  in  the  dining-room  at 
one  end,  while  at  the  other  were  gathered  the  whole 
body  of  black  waiters,  sitting  in  circles,  and  being 
catechized  by  a  major-domo  on  their  duties.  He 
stood  in  the  centre,  and  popped  questions  to  each, 
but  not  in  turn.  It  was  an  amusing  scene.  They 
seemed  like  children,  and  answered  questions 
eagerly. 


296  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

From  thence  to  Albany,  and  down  the  beautiful 
river  Hudson  in  a  palatial  steamer  to  New  York. 
Here  again  met  our  friends  the  Waterers,  and  after 
two  or  three  days  got  berths  on  board  the  steamship 
Scythia  for  England,  where  we  arrived  on  July  29, 
making  the  3,055  miles  to  Liverpool  in  ten 
days.  •  The  ship  was  crowded,  mostly  by  Americans. 
In  the  deck  saloon  card  -  playing  was  going  on 
during  the  whole  time,  and  it  was  said  that  large 
sums  were  lost  at  euchre,  and  that  an  American 
'colonel'  had  been  'cleaned  out.'  No  wonder,  as 
he  was  always  drinking  spirits !  Some  better- 
disposed  Americans  thought  proper  to  interfere, 
and  complained  to  the  captain,  telling  him  that  he 
ought  not  to  permit  such  proceedings.  The  captain 
interfered,  and  there  was  a  row.  He  threatened  to 
turn  out  the  lights.  He  did  not  prevail,  the 
principal  loser  declaring  that,  although  he  was 
cleaned  out,  he  didn't  care  ;  he'd  '  win  it  back  some 
day.'  One  gentleman  from  Indiana  offered  to  fight 
anyone  who  interfered.  He  was  drunk,  and  was  led 
away  to  his  cabin  by  force. 

I  met  on  board  an  American  Bishop  of  Rhode 
Island,  Dr.  T.  Marsh  Clark,  D.C.L.,  Oxon,  with 
whom  I  had  much  talk,  and  became  intimate.  He 
was  a  liberal  and  large-minded  man.  He  gave  me  a 
book  on  religion,  of  his  own  writing.  On  Sunday  he 
conducted  a  service,  and  his  sermon  was  admirably 
discreet,  addressed  as  it  was  to  all  classes,  Christians 
and  infidels,  so  that  even  the  latter  were  impressed 
and  respectful.  A  large  ship  is  well  adapted  for 


WHO  IS  'THE  GREAT  COPE'?  297 

studying  varieties  of  character.  Arthur  also  made 
friends  on  board.  He  had  sketched  some  pas- 
sengers, and  this  got  wind,  so  that  he  was  asked  to 
draw  portraits  of  individuals  for  themselves,  and  had 
more  than  one  pressing  invitation  to  visit  them  in 
the  States  in  return  for  his  kindness.  The  weather 
being  fine,  there  was  no  illness,  and  the  decks  were 
thronged  with  perambulators.  At  Liverpool  the 
captain  received  a  presentation  purse  and  a  round 
of  hearty  cheers  from  the  passengers. 

[My  father  told  us  the  following  little  anecdote  of 
the  voyage,  either  outward  or  homeward.  One  day 
the  steward  came  up  to  him  and  said  : 

'  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  are  you  Mr.  Cope  ?' 

'  Yes.' 

'  Well,  then,  if  you  wouldn't  think  it  a  liberty,  I 
would  like  to  ask  if  you  are  any  relation  to  \hegreat 
Cope  ?' 

'  I  don't  know.     Who  is  he  ?' 

'  You  don't  know,  sir !  Why,  the  great  tobacconist 
at  Bristol,  sir.' 

My  father  replied  that  he  regretted  he  was  not. 

In  a  '  Lecture  delivered  before  the  Royal  Academy 
of  Arts  by  C.  W.  Cope,  Esq.,  R.A.,  upon  the  subject 
of  his  visit  to  the  International  Exhibition  at  Phila- 
delphia, 1876,'  of  which  only  the  shorthand  writer's 
copy  remains,  he  gives  a  good  deal  more  information 
about  the  business  part  of  his  visit,  omitted  in 
his  later  narrative.  Of  this  lecture,  the  World 
wrote  :  'If  Mr.  Cope,  R.A.,  would  print  and  cir- 
culate the  lecture  he  recently  delivered  to  a  select 


298  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

audience  at  the  Royal  Academy,  he  would  confer  a 
favour  upon  the  public.  The  graphic  sketch  which 
he  gave  of  his  experience  as  a  "judge"  at  Phila- 
delphia was  equal  to  any  of  his  pictures.  Nothing 
that  has  ever  been  said  is  more  condemnatory  of  the 
system  of  testing  artistic  merit  which  prevails  at 
international  exhibitions.  Mr.  Cope's  sketch  of  the 
stout  and  rich  gentleman  who  was  chosen  to  preside 
over  the  fine  arts  jury  has  touches  equal  to  Dickens. 
His  exposure  of  the  "  smartness  "  displayed  by  some 
of  his  associates  had  all  the  effect  of  a  comedy 
combined  with  truth.  It  is  the  more  important  that 
the  result  at  Philadelphia  should  be  understood  by 
the  public,  because  something  of  the  same  sort  may 
be  repeated  at  Paris  next  year,  unless  it  be  settled 
beforehand  that  none  of  the  artists  are  to  receive 
medals,  and  that  all  the  pictures  sent  are  to  be 
viewed  on  their  merits.  A  work  of  art  should  not 
be  degraded  to  the  level  of  a  sewing-machine  or  a 
pianoforte. '] 


299 


CHAPTER    X. 

THE    '  LECTURE.' 

A  MEMBER  of  the  Council  of  the  Royal  Academy, 
who,  I  gladly  take  this  opportunity  of  remarking,  is 
always  patriotic  and  takes  a  large  and  generous  view 
of  the  interests  of  the  public,  suggested  that  the 
Royal  Academy  ought  to  take  some  steps  to  induce 
the  Government  to  carry  out  the  proposals  of  the 
American  Commissioners.  The  expenses  were  so 
heavy,  and  the  risk  so  great,  that  unless  the  English 
Government  would  pay  the  expenses  of  the  transit 
there  and  back,  with  freightage  and  insurance,  the 
probability  would  be  that  British  art  would  not  be 
represented.  We  waited  upon  the  President  of  the 
Council  and  the  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  and 
after  a  colloquy  they  listened  to  our  request  ;  and 
the  result  was  that  they  agreed  to  defray  all  the 
expenses  and  insure  the  pictures,  so  that,  by  that 
action,  which  is  entirely  due  to  the  proposition  of 
the  Royal  Academy,  British  art  was  well  represented 
at  Philadelphia.  A  committee  of  selection  was 
appointed,  and  they  applied  to  the  Queen  and  to 
owners  of  private  pictures  ;  and,  upon  the  whole,  as 


300  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

good  an  exhibition  of  British  art  was  got  together  as 
was  ever  the  case  in  any  international  exhibition. 
In  fact,  I  went  round  several  times  with  the  judges 
of  award,  and  they  said  they  had  seen  no  collection 
that  made  such  an  impression  upon  them  as  that  of 
Philadelphia.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  there  were 
many  omissions,  but  I  speak  of  it  as  a  whole  ;  and 
the  judges  said  they  thought  it  highly  honourable  to 
British  art.  The  German  Commissioner  especially, 
who  is  a  hearty  man,  and,  as  I  am  told,  a  good 
painter,  constantly  said  to  me,  '  I  should  like  to  see 
your  English  pictures.'  I  said  there  were  good 
pictures  in  every  place — some  good  and  some  bad  ; 
but  he  said,  '  They  are  all  well  made ' — that  was  his 
expression  for  well  done — '  I  should  give  them  all 
medals.'  I  just  mention  him,  among  others,  as 
expressing  an  opinion  about  the  quality  of  the  works 
that  were  sent. 

The  next  thing  was  to  select  judges,  and  I  was 
persuaded  by  my  colleagues  to  go  as  judge  for 
England,  with  Mr.  Graham.  We  went  out  in  a 
Cunard  steamer.  ...  I  formed  one  or  two  acquaint- 
ances which  I  shall  always  remember  with  great 
pleasure.  Amongst  them  were  three  American 
missionaries,  one  from  Beyrout,  one  from  Nineveh, 
and  one  from  Lebanon  ;  three  more  intelligent  men 
I  never  met  with.  .  .  .  On  the  24th  of  May  we 
arrived  at  Philadelphia,  at  which  time  we  were 
expected  to  assemble  in  a  committee-room.  Notice 
had  been  given  to  that  effect.  We  arrived  there  at 
twelve  o'clock  on  the  24th.  There  were  about 


A  HEARTY  WELCOME  301 

thirty-five  committee-rooms,  of  which  No.  27  was 
for  the  painting  group.  Before  being  shown  these 
rooms,  we  all  assembled  in  a  grand  hall.  I  suppose 
the  number  of  judges  there  must  have  been  two 
hundred  and  fifty  or  three  hundred.  At  the  end  of 
the  room,  under  the  American  flag,  of  course  — 
I  should  say  there  must  have  been  two  or  three 
hundred  thousand  flags  in  Philadelphia — General 
Goshorn,  the  Director-General,  made  an  address  to 
the  judges  ;  and  a  very  good,  manly  address  it  was. 
It  reminded  us  of  our  duties,  of  the  privileges  we 
should  enjoy  while  we  were  there,  of  the  warm  wel- 
come we  should  receive,  and  he  also  gave  us  all  a 
hearty  welcome.  He  said,  '  We  intend  to  make 
you  very  comfortable  and  very  happy,  and  I  hope  you 
will  find  when  you  leave  that  you  have  received  a 
very  good  impression  of  the  jollity  and  hospitality 
of  the  people  in  our  country.'  The  extremely  hot 
weather  interfered  with  our  festivities,  which,  however, 
took  place  after  the  judges  had  taken  their  leave. 

The  chairman  wished  that  we  should  all  be  intro- 
duced to  each  other  ;  so  he  wrote  the  name  of  every 
judge  of  award,  and  the  judge  was  expected,  when 
his  name  was  called,  to  stand  up,  so  that  everybody 
might  see  him.  It  was  very  amusing  to  see  the 
variety  of  manner  with  which  men  heard  their  names 
called  out.  This  went  on  for  a  considerable  time, 
and  then  we  had  a  glimmering  notion  of  who  people 
were.  General  Goshorn  then  invited  us  to  luncheon  ; 
a  band  played  '  Yankee  Doodle '  and  other  sublime 
airs,  and  then  we  marched  off  to  a  neighbouring 


302  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

restaurant,  the  band  meantime  playing  '  God  save 
the  Queen.'  After  lunch  were  various  speeches, 
toasts  and  so  forth. 

Next  day  we  went  to  business,  and  had  our  first 
meeting  of  the  fine  arts  committee.  We  found  that 
the  group  of  judges  in  the  fine  arts  consisted  of 
seven  Americans  and  thirteen  foreigners — twenty 
altogether.  We  met  and  discussed  certain  prin- 
ciples, and  became  a  little  acquainted  with  each 
other.  I  may  as  well  describe  a  little  who  we  all 
were.  Among  the  Americans  was  first  a  gentle- 
man—  a  very  stout  old  gentleman,  very  rotund, 
very  jolly.  He  was  a  great  banker  ;  and  he  had 
the  largest  private  collection  of  engravings  I  ever 
saw.  He  had  been  instrumental  in  building  the 
new  edifice  belonging  to  the  fine  arts.  There  were 
two  painters,  one  from  Boston,  the  other  from  New- 
haven  ;  then  came  three  writers  or  soldiers — I  could 
not  make  out  which — and  a  professor  of  a  medical 
college.  It  was  suggested  that  the  banker  should 
be  our  chairman,  and  I  was  asked  by  one  of  the 
Americans  whether  I  would  mind  proposing  him. 
I  said,  '  Not  at  all  ;  you  know  what  his  qualifica- 
tions are,  and  if  you  recommend  him,  I  have  no 
doubt  that  he  is  a  very  fit  man.'  He  then  became 
the  chairman  of  our  group.  He  then  said  he  thought 
Mr.  Nichols  (a  very  clear-headed,  intellectual  man) 
would  make  a  good  secretary,  and  he  was  accord- 
ingly appointed.  So  we  had  a  chairman  and  secre- 
tary, and  then  we  went  into  committee.  The  foreign 
Commissioners  were  all  very  nice  men.  The  Com- 


THE  COMMISSIONERS  303 

missioners  for  England  were  myself  and  Mr.  Peter 
Graham,  who  is  connected  with  the  firm  of  Jackson 
and  Graham,  and  he  was  a  judge  of  furniture  and 
decorative  work.  From  Germany  there  was  Schles- 
singer,  a  painter,  and  Dr.  Vogel,  a  photographer  ; 
from  France,  Emile  Saintin  ;  from  Sweden,  Dardel, 
an  inspector  of  buildings;  from  Norway,  Arbo;  from 
Spain,  Count  Donadio  ;  from  Italy,  Santardini  and 
De  Sanctis  ;  from  Austria,  Costenoble  ;  from  Den- 
mark, Dahlerup  ;  and  from  the  Netherlands,  Van 
Beest,  a  painter,  and  a  very  jolly  man,  but  he  did 
not  appear  till  all  was  over. 

The  first  difficulty  which  we  had  was  with  respect 
to  the  laws  by  which  we  were  to  be  guided,  and 
the  regulations,  stating  that  all  the  medals  awarded 
were  to  be  equal  bronze  medals,  and  that  every 
medal  should  be  accompanied  with  the  reasons  why 
the  medal  was  given  by  the  proposer,  and  counter- 
signed by  the  rest  of  the  committee.  This  report, 
or  certificate,  was  intended  to  be  of  great  use, 
because  it  would  enable  those  who  had  produced 
extraordinary  things  to  advertise  them.  After  these 
were  read  over,  we  very  soon  found  out  that  prac- 
tically it  would  be  impossible  to  give  such  a  certifi- 
cate in  the  case  of  pictures.  Each  was  asked  why 
he  would  give  a  medal.  One  said  the  colour  was 
bad — he  would  give  the  medal  for  the  design,  and 
not  for  the  colour  ;  so  that  although  we  could  all 
agree  that  such  and  such  a  work  was.  a  good  one, 
we  could  not  at  all  agree  why.  This  occasioned  a 
great  deal  of  discussion  and  argument,  but  at  last  it 


304  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

was  decided  that  it  should  be  merely  a  general  cer- 
tificate for  excellence  in  art.  Then  we  found  that 
to  give  equal  bronze  medals  was  really  doing  nothing; 
and  I  took  advantage  of  a  suggestion  made  to  me  by 
the  Italian  gentleman,  when  we  were  discussing  what 
was  historical  painting  and  what  was  landscape.  It 
occurred  to  me  that  we  might  divide  the  pictures 
into  classes,  and  I  suggested  that  if  we  had  three 
or  four  different  classes  we  should  simplify  matters 
very  much  ;  and  after  a  great  deal  of  interesting 
discussion,  it  was  unanimously  agreed  that,  instead 
of  giving  one  uniform  bronze  medal,  we  should  give 
medals  to  classes  of  pictures  ;  and  it  was  distinctly 
intended  that  a  medal  in  the  highest  class  of  art 
should  be  more  worth  receiving  than  a  medal  in  a 
lower  class.  For  instance,  a  picture  of  a  grand  his- 
torical subject,  nobly  treated,  showing  great  learning 
and  equal  art  merit,  is  much  more  deserving  than  a 
picture  of  a  poppy  on  the  side  of  a  wall,  which,  after 
all,  is  only  a  poppy.  And  in  that  way  we  flattered 
ourselves  that  we  got  over  a  difficulty,  and  instead 
of  giving  first,  second,  and  third  class  medals,  we 
wished  it  to  be  understood  that  a  class  in  historic, 
sacred,  or  poetic  art  was  of  higher  value  than  still  life. 
Having  generally  discussed  these  questions,  we 
then  set  to  work.  The  ground  we  had  to  go  over 
was  very  considerable.  We  had  painting,  sculpture, 
decoration,  stained  glass,  photography,  wood  engrav- 
ing, etching,  in  fact,  half  a  dozen  other  things,  and 
the  amount  of  labour  we  had  before  us  was  some- 
thing alarming,  especially  during  that  hot  weather ; 


COMMITTEE  MEETINGS  305 

so  that  we  subdivided  ourselves  into  committees, 
each  committee  having  its  own  secretary.  The 
committee  on  painting  consisted  of  ten,  of  whom 
I  was  selected  chairman.  Some  extracts  from  the 
report  which  I  wrote  to  the  Government  on  the 
adjudication  of  the  award  will  give  the  clearest 
idea  of  our  method  of  working. 

'At  the  first  meeting  of  the  committee  of  "judges," 
it  was  determined  to  subdivide  the  group  into  six 
classes  :  i,  sculpture  ;  2,  painting  ;  3,  engraving  and 
lithography  ;  4,  photographs  ;  5,  industrial  designs, 
models,  and  decoration  ;  6,  decoration  with  ceramic 
and  vitreous  materials,  mosaic  and  inlaid  work.  By 
this  proceeding  progress  was  facilitated,  and  judges 
were  selected  according  to  their  fitness  as  "  experts  " 
in  the  respective  classes.  They  were  empowered 
to  propose  awards  of  medals.  These  awards  were 
afterwards  submitted  to  a  committee  of  the  whole 
group,  and  required  confirmation  by  a  majority  of 
signatures  in  support  of  the  name  proposed.  Thus 
a  certain  amount  of  responsibility  for  the  award 
made  rested  on  each  individual  judge.  I  will  now 
make  a  few  remarks  upon  the  class  of  painting  to 
which  I  was  appointed,  and  of  which  I  was  elected 
chairman.  At  the  very  outset  of  our  labours,  it  was 
generally  agreed  that  the  regulations  prescribed  by 
the  Director-General  for  the  award  of  "  equal " 
bronze  medals,  accompanied  in  each  case  by  a  cer- 
tificate, descriptive  of  the  particular  merits  of  each 
work,  were  inapplicable  to  works  in  the  fine  arts. 
It  was  soon  found  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  a 

20 


306  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

jury  to  agree  upon  the  exact  reasons  (which,  indeed, 
are  often  undefinable)  for  preferring  one  work  of  art 
to  another. 

'  In  a  mechanical  invention  such  a  description  is 
both  possible  and  useful,  and  is  to  the  inventor  of 
great  pecuniary  value  ;  but  this  is  not  the  case  in 
works  of  fine  art,  the  peculiar  merits  of  which,  like 
the  scent  of  a  flower,  cannot  be  so  easily  defined. 
It  was  therefore  resolved  to  omit,  in  the  case  of 
pictures,  any  particular  description  or  "  reasons,"  and 
to  substitute  instead  a  general  expression  of  "  ex- 
cellence in  art."  Another  difficulty  presented  itself 
at  the  outset.  It  was  felt  that  the  high  qualities  of 
mind,  the  elevation  of  treatment,  the  correctness  of 
design,  and  frequently  the  learning,  necessary  to 
produce  a  great  work  of  art,  were  very  different 
from  those  required  for  the  representation  of  "  still 
life,"  or  for  those  reproductions  which  require  little 
effort  beyond  patience  or  technical  skill.  After  con- 
siderable discussion  it  was  resolved  unanimously  to 
divide  "painting"  into  "grades,"  so  that,  while  the 
general  principle  of  "  equal  "  medals  was  retained, 
the  distinction  of  gaining  a  medal  in  the  most 
elevated  branches  of  art  would  be  greater  than  that 
of  obtaining  one  in  the  least  difficult.  Painting  was 
therefore  divided  into  these  following  heads  :  i, 
poetic,  religious,  or  historic ;  2,  genre,  or  scenes 
of  familiar  life ;  3,  portraits  ;  4,  landscape  and 
marine;  5,  animals  and  still  life.  The  question 
was  asked  whether  the  "judges,"  in  recommending 
these  awards,  were  to  be  influenced  by,  or  make 


PRINCIPLE  OF  AWARDS  307 

allowance  for,  the  comparative  youth  of  a  nation, 
e.g.,  the  empire  of  Brazil  or  Canada  ?  The  director 
replied  that  the  judges  were  to  regard  merit  alone, 
and  in  no  degree  to  consider  nationality. 

'  The  system  adopted  by  the  sub-committee  on 
painting  was  as  follows  :  Each  member  proposed  in 
turn  the  name  of  a  painter,  and  the  work  to  which 
a  medal  should  be  awarded  ;  a  vote  was  then  taken, 
which  was  decided  by  a  majority  of  votes,  the  chair- 
man not  having  a  casting-vote.  These  general 
principles  being  decided  on,  the  various  sub-com- 
mittees commenced  and  continued  their  labours, 
meeting  daily  to  record  votes.  The  whole  group 
met  in  committee  from  time  to  time  to  receive  the 
reports  of  the  sub-committees,  and  to  confirm  or 
reject  the  awards  proposed.  This  was  continued, 
"  de  die  in  diem,"  until  the  pictorial  matter  was  con- 
sidered exhausted  ;  but  in  order  to  avoid  any  pos- 
sible unfairness  or  accidental  neglect,  it  was  agreed 
to  re-examine  the  whole  collection  and  meet  again, 
when  each  member  had  the  privilege  of  either  re- 
proposing  former  names  which  had  been  unfortunate, 
or  naming  new  ones.  A  final  report  was  then  agreed 
to,  and  the  committee  passed  a  resolution  "  to  ad- 
journ." The  judges  consisted  of  eight  painters,  two 
sculptors,  one  architect,  one  photographer,  one 
inspector-general  of  buildings,  one  director  of  fine 
arts,  one  employed  in  industrial  design  and  decora- 
tion, and  four  "  lay  element "  representatives  (a 
banker,  authors,  etc.).  The  comparative  number 
of  medals  awarded  to  each  nation  for  painting  is "  as 


308  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

follows:  United  States,  13;  Austria,  7;  Belgium, 
2  ;  England,  13  ;  France,  16  ;  Germany,  7  ;  Italy,  4  ; 
Netherlands,  6  ;  Norway,  3  ;  Spain,  6  ;  Sweden,  2.' 

Our  little  committee  began  to  meet  with  some 
slight  difficulties.  Towards  the  conclusion  of  our 
labours  one  of  the  artists  connected  with  New  York 
said  : 

'  I  have  had  a  telegram.      I  must  go  away.' 

I  said  :  '  I  am  very  sorry  for  it ;  I  hope  nothing 
has  happened  at  your  home.' 

He  said  :   '  I  hope  not.' 

He  did  not  come  back  for  four  or  five  days,  and 
when  he  came  back  he  seemed  as  if  he  wanted  to 
say  something  of  importance.  I  must  say  he  was 
most  kind  and  pleasant  to  me,  but  at  last  I  said  to 
him  : 

'  I  hope  it  is  no  domestic  misfortune  that  has 
called  you  away  ?' 

'  No,'  he  said,  and  then  he  began  to  warn  me  of 
the  doings  of  our  secretary,  and  he  said  :  'He  is 
laying  his  pipes  underground,  and  leading  you  all 
astray.' 

Well,  he  began  by  saying  that  the  work  he  was 
doing  in  his  absence  should  be  considered,  and  that  he 
should  be  allowed  to  have  an  equal  number  of  nomina- 
tions as  the  others,  otherwise  he  would  be  losing  his 
privilege.  .  .  .  We  pointed  out  that  it  was  not  a  privi- 
lege, but  a  duty,  that  two  or  three  of  the  members 
of  the  committee  had  not  arrived  at  all,  and  were  we 
to  go  over  all  the  ground  again  when  they  came  in  ? 
But  the  end  of  it  was  he  utterly  failed.  He  made  a 


DIFFICULTIES  309 


great  many  other  difficulties,  and  we  soon  found  that 
our  jolly  chairman,  although  a  most  benevolent  old 
gentleman,  and  a  giver  of  splendid  banquets,  never 
had  been  round  the  galleries !  To  show  the  sort  of 
man  he  was,  he  proposed  we  should  meet  at  three 
o'clock  twice  a  week.  We  reminded  him  that  we 
had  to  get  home,  but  he  said  : 

'  No,  you  must  stay  till  October.' 

We  had  one  day  of  general  inspection,  and  the 
Commissioners  allowed  us  a  Sunday.  This  old 
gentleman  fell  fast  asleep  and  never  went  round 
the  place.  He  put  every  obstacle  in  the  way  of 
our  coming  to  a  conclusion  ;  however,  we 
went  on,  and  in  the  end  the  chairman  said  he 
thought  the  committee  had  come  to  a  somewhat 
hasty  conclusion,  and  that  some  works  ought  to 
have  been  awarded  medals  which  had  received 
none.  And  at  last  he  said  : 

'  Well,  gentlemen,  you  cannot  go  away  without 
General  Walker's  leave.' 

We  asked  whether  there  was  anything  which  we 
had  omitted  to  look  at,  and  we  were  told  : 

'  Yes,  there  is  a  School  of  Art  of  Philadelphia  ; 
they  have  sent  the  most  beautiful  things  in  the 
whole  place,  and  to  omit  any  reference  to  them 
would  be  doing  a  gross  injustice.' 

He  also  said  that  there  had  been  great  complaints 
that  we  had  neglected  Mexican  art,  and  two  mem- 
bers were  deputed  to  go  and  inquire.  These  gentle- 
men went  out  and  were  absent  about  half  an  hour, 
and  then  came  back  in  a  terrible  state  of  heat  and 


3io  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

discomfort,  and  said,  '  We  have  been  in  Mexico.' 
.  .  .  Four  photographs  were  all  the  work  !  Then, 
as  we  could  not  do  anything  else  we  adjourned,  sine 
die,  about  the  end  of  June.  .  .  . 

After  my  return  home  I  received  a  letter  which  I 
was  not  at  all  unprepared  for  from  the  secretary  of 
the  British  Commissioners,  Mr.  Trendell,  who  was 
in  all  respects  as  kind  and  as  obliging  a  man  as  I 
ever  met  with.  This  is  the  letter  of  August  1 5  : 

'  DEAR  MR.  COPE, 

'  A  matter  of  very  great  difficulty  and 
delicacy  has  arisen  in  connection  with  the  fine  art 
awards,  and,  at  General  Walker's  express  wish,  I 
write  to  you  immediately  on  the  subject.  It  is  right 
that  I  should  say,  at  the  outset,  that  I  am  quite 
certain  there  is  the  strongest  feeling  among  the 
chief  executive  of  the  exhibition,  and  more 
especially  on  the  part  of  General  Walker,  that  in 
no  case  should  there  be  even  the  semblance  of  dis- 
courtesy to  yourself.  It  is  proposed  by  the  Cen- 
tennial Commission — the  supreme  body  here — to 
extend  the  area  of  the  awards  in  the  fine  art  group, 
without,  of  course,  making  the  slightest  change  in 
the  specific  awards  made  by  the  sub-committee  on 
painting,  of  which  you  were  chairman.  Thus,  in- 
stead of  eighty  awards,  it  is  proposed  that  there 
should  be  some  such  larger  number  as  two 
hundred.  General  Walker  states  that  in  several 
groups  the  proportion  of  awards  is  twenty- 
five  to  thirty  per  cent,  while  in  the  painting 


REVISION  OF  THE  AWARDS  311 


group  it  is,  at  present,  not  four  per  cent.  The 
initiative  in  this  new  action  proceeded,  I  am  in- 
formed, from  the  unanimous  feeling  of  nine  of  your 
colleagues  who  are  still  in  Philadelphia,  who  ex- 
pressed themselves  as  conscious  that  many  meri- 
torious pictures  were  necessarily  excluded  since  the 
number  of  awards  was  so  limited.  The  General 
Direction  coincided  in  the  view  taken,  being  anxious 
to  recognise  elements  of  good  work  as  well  as 
distinct  excellence.  They  felt  that  for  over  three 
thousand  paintings  two  hundred  awards  cannot  be 
considered  excessive,  and  it  is  assumed  that  the  fine 
arts  committee  unintentionally  somewhat  misinter- 
preted the  spirit  of  the  system  on  which  it  was 
desired  they  would  act,  by  circumscribing  so  much 
their  awards.  I  should  mention  here  that  both 
Count  Donadio  and  Mr.  Schlessinger  left  letters  with 
General  Walker,  expressing  their  opinion  that  the 
scope  of  the  awards  ought  to  be  extended,  and 
stated  that  the  only  reason  why  they  have  not  taken 
part  in  the  further  examination  was  that,  as  they 
had  been  members  of  the  painting  committee,  and 
had  acquiesced,  though  against  their  judgment,  in 
the  limitation  of  the  awards  to  eighty,  they  felt  now 
a  delicacy  in  joining  their  colleagues  in  further 
action. 

'  General  Walker  feels  himself  in  a  dilemma.  It 
seems  to  be  a  case  in  which  the  lesser  of  two  evils 
ought  to  be  taken — on  the  one  hand,  strongest 
feeling  aroused  by  the  paucity  of  fine  art  medals  ; 
on  the  other,  the  unhappy  necessity  for  acting  in  the 


312  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

absence  of  yourself,  the  chairman  of  the  committee 
for  painting.  General  Walker  emphatically  repeated 
to  me  to-day  that  your  absence,  in  the  decision  of 
this  delicate  question,  has  been  specially  felt,  and  he 
is  most  anxious  to  be  assured  that  you  are  of 
opinion  that  the  course  taken  has  been  the  best 
possible  under  the  circumstances.  I  fear  I  have  not 
been  a  very  lucid  chronicler  of  this  complication. 
You  will  understand,  of  course,  that  the  foreign 
Commissioners  whose  countries  have  few  awards, 
and  who  have  managed  at  this  date  to  ascertain  the 
fact,  are  very  irate.  Two  medals  only  to  Belgium 
is  severely  felt,  so  that  General  Walker  has  literally 
been  on  the  horns  of  a  dilemma. 

'  Believe  me,  etc  , 

'A.  J.   R.  TRENDELL. 

'  Charles  W.  Cope,  Esq.,  R.A.' 
To  this  I  replied  as  follows  : 

'  DEAR  MR.  TRENDELL, 

'  I  am  not  at  all  surprised  to  hear  that  a 
sharp  pressure  has  been  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
Centennial  Commissioners,  and  that  they  have 
augmented  very  considerably  the  number  of  awards 
in  the  section  of  the  fine  arts.  There  are  two 
principles  :  one,  to  give  medals  only  to  high  and 
unquestionable  excellence  ;  the  other,  to  give  them 
to  average  merit.  Both  these  principles  were  fully 
and  fairly  discussed  in  committee,  and  it  was  decided 
by  a  majority — a  large  one,  I  believe,  speaking  only 


ORIGINAL  PRINCIPLE  JUSTIFIED  313 

from  memory — to  adopt  the  first.  It  was  felt  that 
the  amount  of  average  merit  in  the  pictures  exhibited 
was  very  great,  and  that,  if  the  judges  lowered  the 
standard  beyond  a  certain  point,  the  medals  must  be 
distributed  broadcast,  and  the  honour  of  gaining  a 
medal  would  be  nil.  The  principle  adopted  by  the 
resolution  of  the  committee  was  adhered  to  in  the 
award  of  the  medals,  although  the  actual  number 
given  slightly  exceeded  that  which  had  at  first  been 
approximately  suggested.  Towards  the  conclusion 
of  our  labours  it  was  evident  that  the  principle  of 
upholding  a  high  standard  had  operated  to  the 
disadvantage  both  of  nations  and  of  individuals,  and 
that  national  pride,  as  well  as  private  friendship,  was 
offended.  You  mention  the  case  of  Belgium,  but  it 
is  notorious  that  the  names  of  many  of  the  most 
excellent  painters  of  that  distinguished  school  are 
absent.  The  fault,  therefore,  was  that  Belgium  had 
not  contributed  more  worthily.  The  partiality  of 
private  friendship  for  individual  painters  was  also 
offended.  This,  of  course,  was  inevitable.  My  own 
opinion  is  that  (although  I  thought  England  was 
hardly  treated,  and  expressed  this  view  in  com- 
mittee), with  very  few  exceptions,  the  best  pictures 
had  been  selected,  and  very  few  left  out.  At  the 
same  time,  it  should  be  mentioned  that,  in  order  to 
avoid  any  accidental  injustice,  opportunity  was 
afterwards  given  to  each  member  to  repropose 
names  already  rejected.  Of  course,  an  adverse 
decision  by  the  committee  did  not  change  the 
opinion  of  the  proposer  ;  the  decision  was  bowed  to, 


314  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

though  not  acquiesced  in.  But  I  repeat  that  these 
cases  were  comparatively  very  few,  and  by  no  means 
justify  such  a  great  extension  as  that  now  sanctioned. 
I  cannot,  however,  but  regret  that  the  principle  of 
selection  adopted  by  the  committee  has  not  been 
adhered  to,  though  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  course 
now  acted  upon  will  be  more  popular. 

'  Please  to  thank  General  Walker  for  his  kind  and 
courteous  consideration  for  myself  as  chairman,  and 
tell  him  that  I  have  little  doubt  his  action  will 
contribute  to  the  satisfaction  of  many  of  the  exhi- 
bitors, and  prevent  many  jealousies  and  heart- 
burnings, even  if  it  lowers  the  honour  of  gaining 
medals.  You  know  my  private  opinion  about 
medals,  which  is  also  that  of  most  Englishmen— 
they  are  a  mistake  in  works  of  fine  art.  England 
gives  none,  wishes  for  none  ;  and  I  think  it  will  be 
found  that  the  best  painters  in  all  countries  will 
more  and  more  abstain  from  contribution  to  inter- 
national exhibitions.  They  will  not  submit  their 
well-earned  fame  to  be  imperilled  by  the  exhibition 
of,  perhaps,  unimportant  specimens.  As  a  possible 
instance  of  this  tendency,  I  may  remark  on  the 
conspicuous  absence  of  the  best  painters  of  the 
French  school  from  the  present  exhibition.  I  ex- 
tremely regret,  as  you  are  aware,  that  I  had  not  the 
power  of  withdrawing  most,  if  not  all,  the  English 
pictures  from  competition  ;  and  I  ascertain,  since 
my  return  home,  that  some  of  the  contributors 
whom  I  happened  to  have  met  had  entirely 
forgotten  the  question  of  medals,  and  that  they  had 


MEDALS,  FOR  PAINTING,  A  MISTAKE  315 

borrowed  pictures  to  send  to  Philadelphia,  simply 
from  a  desire  to  respond  to  the  invitation  of  the 
British  Government,  and  with  a  generous  wish  that 
England  should  be  worthily  represented.  One 
good  result,  in  my  opinion,  may  follow  from  the 
action  of  the  Centennial  Commission  in  setting  aside 
the  decision  of  the  committee  in  favour  of  a  wider 
distribution,  whereby  mediocrity  will  be  gratified 
and  the  honour  of  gaining  medals  reduced.  When 
medals  are  no  longer  valued,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that 
their  administration  will  cease,  and  that  the  time 
will  come  when  men  will  exhibit  "all  for  love,  and 
nothing  for  reward." 

'  Believe  me,  etc., 

'C.  W.  COPE.' 

Belgium   had   scarcely    any    pictures.      We   went 
round    several    times  and  found  none   of  the  great 

o 

masters.  We  were  briefly  informed  that  the  Belgian 
dealers  in  their  pictures  objected  to  their  going  to 
America,  and  it  was  not  the  interest  of  the  dealers 
to  send  them.  The  same  remark  applies  to  the 
French  pictures,  and  I  think  it  will  be  found  so 
more  and  more.  The  great  painters  will  not  send 
their  works  abroad  for  the  sake  of  getting  medals, 
and  the  medals  only  give  offence  without  gratifying 
anybody.  After  all  this  happened,  I  received  a  letter 
from  our  secretary,  Mr.  Nichols,  a  distinguished 
soldier,  as  well  as  a  good  writer — altogether  a  very 
clever  man.  I  received  first  of  all  a  copy  of  the 
Nation  newspaper,  and  in  it  there  was  a  letter  which 


3i 6  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

I  suspected  to  be  written  by  Mr.  Nichols,  because  I 
saw  his  initials  at  the  end,  and  he  afterwards  told 
me  it  was  his  writing  : 

'  To  the  Editor  of  the  Nation. 

•SIR, 

'  I  desire  to  make  public  the  facts  with  regard 
to  the  awards  which  have  been  given  to  paintings  by 
the  executive  committee  of  the  Commission  of  the 
Centennial  Exposition.  A  statement  of  this  kind 
seems  necessary  because  of  inaccurate  stories  which 
have  been  told,  and  in  justice  to  the  judges  of  the 
painting  committee,  and  especially  to  the  foreign 
judges,  who  returned  to  their  native  countries  with 
the  confident  belief  that  their  report  would  be 
respected  by  the  •  Exposition  Commission.  The 
larger  part  of  the  awards  in  painting  reported  by  the 
Exposition  authorities  were  not  recommended  by 
the  regular  committee. 

'  The  history  of  this  business  is  as  follows  : — In 
Group  27  there  were  some  twenty-eight  classes  of 
objects.  The  judges  selected  to  recommend  awards 
to  these  classes  numbered  twenty  gentlemen,  a 
large  proportion  of  whom  were  foreigners.  When 
the  group  came  together  and  was  organized,  the 
work  of  recommending  awards  was  assigned  to 
committees.  There  were  nine  judges  chosen  for 
painting,  six  for  sculpture,  three  for  photography, 
and  so  on.  All  of  these  were  selected  because  of 
their  special  fitness  for  the  tasks  imposed.  The 


LETTER  TO  THE  'NATION'  317 

nine  judges  who  formed  the  committee  on  painting 
were  a  body  of  experts  of  high  character  and  rare 
capacity  for  the  delicate  and  arduous  labours  which 
belonged  to  that  class.  These  judges  were  :  Messrs. 
Charles  West  Cope,  R.A.,  of  England  ;  Carl 
Schlessinger,  Germany  ;  J.  Emile  Saintin,  France  ; 
Count  of  Donadio,  Spain  ;  Frank  Hill  Smith, 
F.  Weir,  and  George  Ward  Nichols,  United 
States ;  Guglielmo  de  Sanctis,  Italy  ;  Kruseman 
van  Elten,  who  acted  in  the  place  of  F.  E.  Heems- 
kerck  Van  Beest,  Netherlands.  At  the  first  meetings 
of  the  judges  in  Group  27  an  attempt  was  made  to 
fix  the  number  of  awards  in  the  class  of  painting. 
Another  subject  of  great  importance  was  fully 
discussed,  and  it  was  unanimously  agreed  that  the 
plan  for  making  awards  as  proposed  by  the  Com- 
mission could  not  altogether  be  .  put  in  practice  in 
painting  and  sculpture. 

'  ....  At  the  beginning  of  the  sessions 
of  this  committee  information  was  asked  of  the 
Chief  of  the  Bureau  if  the  question  of  nationality 
was  to  be  considered  in  recommending  awards. 
The  answer  came  that  the  merit  of  the  work  was  to 
be  the  only  consideration.  In  obedience  to  this 
rule,  governed  by  this  principle,  for  every  day  for 
nearly  four  weeks  the  judges  were  at  work,  some- 
times holding  two  sessions  each  day,  all  the  while 
examining,  making  notes,  discussing,  and  deciding. 
These  decisions  were  singularly  free  from  national 
or  personal  bias.  It  was  intended  that,  while  the 
awards  might  be  few  in  number  compared  with 


318  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


other  expositions,  they  should  be  valued  because 
they  were  deserved.  In  each  case  the  award  was 
made  by  a  vote  of  the  majority  of  the  committee. 
On  several  occasions  it  was  said,  "  We  have  given 
enough  awards.  If  we  pass  beyond  such  and  such  a 
degree  of  merit,  all  distinctions  will  be  lost,  and  the 
awards  will  have  as  little  value  as  those  given  at 
Vienna  or  Paris."  Finally,  by  an  almost  unanimous 
vote,  they  did  halt,  and  although  the  effort  was 
subsequently  made  by  one  or  two  members  of  the 
committee  to  reopen  the  lists,  it  was  refused,  and 
the  committee  made  its  final  report  to  the  entire 
group.  This  report  was  accepted,  and  the  awards 
were  signed  by  the  individual  judges  and  endorsed 
by  the  signatures  of  a  majority  —  eleven  —  of  the 
other  judges  of  the  group.  Subsequently  the  other 
committees  made  their  reports,  which  were  also 
accepted.  The  group,  having  finished  its  work, 
asked  the  Commission  to  be  discharged.  They 
were  told  that  they  could  have  leave  of  absence,  but 
that  a  final  discharge  could  not  be  granted  at  that 
time.  The  group  then  made  its  final  report, 
adjourned,  and  all  its  books  and  papers  were 
formally  placed  in  the  office  of  the  Chief  of  the 
Bureau  of  Awards.  With  the  exception  of  two  or 
three,  whose  duties  as  Commissioners  kept  them  at 
Philadelphia,  the  judges  separated  and  went  to  their 
homes  —  in  Italy,  France,  England,  or  elsewhere. 
Several  weeks  after  this  the  Chief  of  the  Bureau,  on 
behalf  of  the  chairman  of  Group  27,  issued  a  call 
to  such  of  the  judges  as  were  in  this  country  to 


AN  EXTRAORDINARY  SCHEME  319 

meet  at  Philadelphia.  The  object  of  this  call  was  to 
have  more  awards  given  to  paintings.  There  was 
not  at  that  time  in  the  United  States  a  quorum  of 
the  group,  and  several  of  the  judges  who  were  here 
refused  to  attend,  recognising  only  the  authority 
of  the  Commission  to  reassemble  them.  At  the 
meeting  held  in  response  to  this  call  there  were 
eight  persons  present.  A  committee  from  this 
body  was  informed  by  General  Goshorn  that 
"  further  recommendations  for  awards  in  painting 
would  be  considered."  Whereupon  a  committee  of 
three  was  appointed — not  one  of  which  had  served 
on  the  regular  painting  committee — to  make  out  a 
new  list  of  awards  in  painting.  Two  of  this  com- 
mittee were  from  the  United  States,  one  from  the 
Netherlands,  and  two  of  them  did  not  report 
presence  until  the  very  last  meeting  of  the  group. 
The  only  other  two  members  of  the  regular  painting 
committee  present  at  the  meeting  refused  to  serve 
in  this  extraordinary  scheme,  and  protested  formally 
against  it.  In  the  case  of  the  German  judge  this 
action  was  more  significant,  as  he  was  one  of  the 
minority  who  had  in  his  committee  favoured  giving 
more  awards.  The  committee  appointed  at  the 
above-named  meeting  reported  to  the  Commission 
some  128  names  in  addition  to  the  85  which  had 
been  regularly  acted  upon.  The  Commission  con- 
firmed the  entire  128.' 

A  list  follows,  and  then  the  letter  goes  on  : 
'  The  following   table  will  show   the    distribution 
of  awards  relative    to  the  different  nations   by  the 


320  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

regular  committee,  which  consisted  of  experts  from 
all  the  great  nations,  and  also  the  same  distribu- 
tion, so  far  as  is  known  to  me,  by  the  other  com- 
mittee, who  were  citizens  of  only  two  or  three 
nations  : 

First  Award.      Supplementary.       Total. 

United  States      13  28  41 

France  17  19  36 

IO  24- 


24 

2 
1-2 

7 

o 

O 

3 


2  2 

I  I 

'  G.  W.  N. 

'Cincinnati,  October,  1876.' 

Now,  with  reference  to  the  Netherlands,  I  may 
say  that  the  Dutch  Commissioner  arrived  when  it 
was  all  over,  and  he  said,  '  The  more  medals  you 
give,  the  better  they  will  be  pleased  ;  you  must  give 
a  great  many  more.'  And  it  is  evident  that  he  is 
one  of  those  gentlemen  who  have  been  at  the 
bottom  of  this  scheme  for  increasing  the  number  of 
awards.  One  of  the  New  York  artists  told  me, 
'  Whatever  you  do,  it  is  no  matter  to  me  ;  I  shall 


England 

H 

Belgium 

2 

Netherlands 

7 

Spain 

6 

Germany 

IO 

Austria 

6 

Italy 

4 

Sweden 

2 

Russia 

4 

Norway 

3 

Mexico 

o 

Brazil 

o 

THE  'AMERICAN  RUBENS'  321 

stand  well  with  all  the  New  York  artists  if  they 
know  I  have  made  a  good  fight.'  Then  they  give 
two  supplementary  awards  to  Mexico,  and  one  to 
Brazil.  Under  the  first  award  there  was  nothing. 
The  Emperor  of  Brazil  was  there,  and  he  was  very 
anxious  that  the  infant  art  of  Brazil  should  be 
encouraged,  and  a  great  deal  of  pressure  was  put 
upon  the  Commissioners  to  give  medals  ;  but  merit 
was  our  guide,  and  if  we  went  by  any  other  rule,  we 
might  be  going  on  giving  medals  now.  The  jolly 
chairman  made  a  speech,  and  he  said  there  was  a 
great  painter  who  was  called  the  American  Rubens, 
and  he  had  not  been  awarded  a  medal.  However, 
not  a  single  member  of  the  committee  would 
propose  his  name,  and  yet  this  was  one  of  the 
grounds  of  the  offence  that  was  taken.  I  know  no 
more  of  the  matter  than  that  there  has  been  an 
enormous  increase  in  the  number  of  medals  given, 
but  I  have  had  a  letter  from  a  friend  of  mine  since, 
and  being  very  much  connected  with  art,  he  gives 
the  opinion  in  America.  He  says  : 

'  Doubtless  you  have  read  an  account  of  the  con- 
cluding ceremonies  of  the  exhibition.  There  has 
been  a  good  deal  of  animadversion  indulged  in  as 
regards  the  judges'  decision,  especially  those  made 
on  appeal.  I  see  one  of  the  German  officers  calls 
the  second  tribunal  *a  "stump  jury."  Indeed,  as 
I  told  you,  when  you  were  exercising  the  duties 
pertaining  to  your  official  position,  it  was  one  that 
unavoidably  brought  with  it  "  more  cuffs  than 
coppers."  Then  he  goes  on  to  say  that  the  pre- 

21 


322  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

vious  Commissioner  had  got  them  into  such  diffi- 
culties, that  they  had  life-long  troubles  in  consequence 
of  it.  Then  the  secretary's  letter  gives  me  a  little 
insight  into  who  the  people  were,  and  he  says  it  is  a 
disgraceful  business,  and  has  been  so  declared  by  the 
press,'  and  so  on.  .  .  . 

•'One  curious  feature  of  American  art  is,  that  it  is 
nearly  all  in  some  degree  like  some  other  art ;  some 
pictures  are  Venetian,  some  Belgian,  or  other  styles, 
and  there  is  a  want  of  originality.  That,  however, 
must  be  the  case  in  all  young  countries.  The  artists 
go  abroad  ;  they  are  fond  of  other  countries,  and 
naturally  reproduce  the  scenery,  while  they  do  not 
produce  much  of  the  scenery  of  their  own  country. 
There  is  very  little  of  national  American  art  :  the 
only  national  art  consists  of  their  landscapes.  They 
are  enormous  in  size,  and  the  scenery  is  so  grand 
that  one  does  not  wonder  at  the  artists  trying  to 
represent  it  ;  but  they  have  the  same  characteristics 
which  some  of  the  Swiss  landscapes  have — the  art 
is  wanting  ;  there  is  none  of  the  delicate  feeling 
with  which  one  is  familiar  in  other  schools,  and 
they  have  not  learned  a  perfect  art-language.  This 
shows  that  no  amount  of  fine  scenery  in  nature  will 
produce  in  itself  good  pictures,  unless  the  artist's 
mind  is  brought  to  bear  upon  the  subject,  and  the 
thing  is  done  with  good  taste.  - 

*  'The  French  school  of  painting  was  inadequately 
represented,  many  of  the  leading  French  painters 
having  contributed  nothing.  But  the  abstinence 

*  These  paragraphs  are  taken  from  the  printed  report,  instead  of 
from  the  lecture,  as  the  language  is  better  than  in  the  extempore  speech. 


ART  OF  DIFFERENT  NATIONS  323 

from  exhibition  by  the  painters  was  atoned  for  by 
the  sculptors,  and  the  bronze  figures  were  among 
the  most  remarkable  and  beautiful  productions  in 
the  whole  collection,  and  received  the  warmest 
approbation. 

'  Not  so,  however,  with  the  large  majority  of 
Italian  pieces  of  sculpture.  The  art  seems  to  have 
descended  to  mere  materialism,  the  aim  of  the 
sculptors  being  to  represent  curious  distinctions  of 
surface-texture  in  cloth,  or  linen,  or  knitted  fabrics, 
difficult  undercuttings  of  network  enclosing  fish,  and 
such-like  trifles.  The  quantity  of  these  works  is 
surprising,  suggesting  the  painful  reflection  that 
where  there  is  such  an  abundant  supply  the  demand 
must  be  considerable,  and  pointing  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  art  is  debased  into  ministering  to  the  taste 
of  the  ignorant. 

'The  contributions  from  Austria  were  very  striking 
in  the  direction  of  colour.  Amongst  them  were 
some  remarkable  works,  gorgeous  in  many-hued 
brilliancy,  or  subtle  in  refined  delicacy. 

'  In  religious  art  the  noblest  contributions  were 
sent  by  Spain. 

'  The  specimens  of  line-engraving  are  very  few, 
and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  this  noble  branch  of  re- 
productive art  is  likely  to  die  out.  The  improve- 
ments made  in  photographic  processes,  which  can 
reproduce  works  in  a  short  space  of  time  and  at 
comparatively  little  cost,  are  elbowing  other  kindred 
arts  out  of  existence.  The  specimens  of  photo- 
gravure from  pictures  were  very  excellent. 


324  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

'  The  art  of  etching,  however,  is  well  represented 
by  exhibits  from  France,  England,  Austria,  and 
America.  It  is  an  art  adapted  not  only  for  repro- 
ducing the  works  of  others,  but  in  the  hands  of 
genius  it  is  a  fascinating  method  of  expressing 
original  thought  and  feeling,  combining  the  utmost 
freedom  with  the  subtlest  delicacy.  In  France  it 
is  used  as  a  means  of  illustrating  books  with  original 
designs,  and  its  consequent  effect  upon  art  is  most 
advantageous. 

1 1  was  requested  by  the  Canadian  Commissioners 
to  inspect  the  works  of  art  contributed  by  the 
Dominion,  and  to  adjudge  extra  awards  specially 
given  by  their  Government,  consisting  of  gold, 
silver,  and  bronze  medals.  I  had  great  pleasure 
in  complying  with  their  request.  The  collection 
was  not  very  large.  There  were  some  very  good 
busts  ;  the  best  pictures  were  to  be  found  amongst 
the  landscapes. 

'  I  will  add  a  few  words  only  on  the  British  col- 
lection of  paintings.  It  seems  to  be  universally 
conceded  that,  among  the  various  nations  which 
have  contributed  works  of  fine  art,  England  stands 
conspicuously  and  honourably  prominent.  This 
generally -expressed  opinion  is  confirmed  by  the 
verdict  of  most  of  the  foreign,  as  well  as  the 
American  "judges."  ...  I  may  perhaps  be  allowed 
to  add,  in  conclusion,  that  the  collection  of  the 
diploma  works  of  deceased  Academicians,  contri- 
buted by  the  Royal  Academy,  was  highly  appre- 


ART  IN  AMERICA  325 


ciated    by    the    more    enlightened    citizens    of    the 
United  States. 

'  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 
'  My  Lord  Duke, 

'  Your  most  obedient  servant, 

'  C.  W.  COPE. 
'  To  his  Grace 

'The  Lord  President  of  the  Council.' 

I  also  might  mention  that  I  took  some  little 
trouble  to  try  and  feel  the  pulse  of  America  about 
the  possibility  or  probability  of  there  being  a  de- 
mand for  English  paintings,  and  I  am  sorry  to 
say  I  met  with  no  kind  of  response  ;  indeed,  I 
believe  that  the  encouragement  of  art  in  America 
is  at  a  very  low  ebb.  I  saw  one  or  two  collections 
of  pictures  contributed  by  private  collectors,  and  I 
made  the  acquaintance  of  one  or  two  people  who 
had  collections  of  pictures  ;  but  they  were  very  small 
pictures  indeed  :  there  seemed  to  be  no  feeling  in 
favour  of  collecting  these  things.  I  met  some 
Philadelphia  artists,  who  seemed  to  be  in  a  very 
desponding  mood.  They  said  there  was  very  little 
to  be  done. 

On  one  occasion  I  was  at  a  soiree,  and  an 
American  gentleman  asked  me  what  I  thought  of 
their  art.  I  said  there  was  a  good  deal  of  promise 
about  it,  and  he  asked  me  whether  I  could  mention 
anything  peculiar.  I  answered  that  there  were 
some  pictures  I  had  seen  there  that  I  had  also  seen 
in  London,  and  which  I  recognised  again  with  glad- 


326  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

ness.      He  left  me  for  a  moment,  and  returned  with 
another  gentleman. 

He  said  :  '  Will  you  go  on  now,  and  tell  me  your 
opinion  of  American  art  ?'  I  went  on  talking  about 
these  pictures  and  others,  and  he  said,  '  Do  you  know 
by  whom  these  pictures  are  done  ?' 

I  said  :  '  To  my  surprise,  I  find  to-day,  for  the 
first  time,  that  they  are  by  a  lady,  and  I  am  told  she 
is  an  American,  although  a  resident  in  England  ;  but 
I  did  not  know  that  until  we  were  going  round  the 
exhibition  to-day.' 

This  (second)  gentleman  said  :  '  Will  you  allow 
me  to  introduce  you  to  her  father  ?' 

The  fact  is,  he  was  her  father.  He  asked  me  to 
go  and  see  him.  I  did  so,  and  if  I  had  been  longer 
in  Philadelphia  I  should  have  been  glad  to  have 
stopped  at  his  house,  as  he  wished.  This  is  an 
instance  of  one  of  the  little  pleasantnesses  we  met 
with  in  the  course  of  performing  our  duties.  I  am 
sorry  I  cannot  enter  much  into  the  subject  of  archi- 
tecture, but  what  struck  me  was  the  excessive  size 
and  massiveness  of  their  buildings :  there  is  immense 
energy  and  an  immense  amount  of  aspiration.  There 
is  every  possible  style  there.  In  Philadelphia  there 
is  an  interesting  building,  where  the  Declaration  of 
Independence  was  signed,  and  where  they  have  a 
collection  of  antiquities,  such  as  the  waistcoat  of 

Washington,  the  bullet  that  killed  Captain (?) 

at  Bunker's  Hill,  and  many  other  curiosities,  also 
the  Declaration  of  Independence  itself,  now  getting 
very  faded  and  dim,  and  difficult  to  read.  And  they 


AMERICAN  ARCHITECTURE  327 

are  erecting  now  in  the  middle  of  Philadelphia  a 
building  which  I  suppose  will  be  one  of  the  largest 
in  the  world.  They  have  got  as  far  as  the  base- 
ment-floor, and  the  size  and  massiveness  of  the 
arching  and  the  doorways,  and  the  beautiful  panel- 
ling, struck  me  as  very  fine.  I  wanted  to  see  the 
design  of  the  whole  building,  but  I  was  not  able  to 
do  so.  This  building  has  been  in  abeyance  in  con- 
sequence of  its  enormous  expense,  but  now  they  are 
going  to  finish  it.  It  is  to  be  a  solid  massive  palace 
— the  largest,  I  believe,  in  America — of  white 
marble.  I  suppose  white  marble  there  is  not  very 
much  dearer  than  stone  is  with  us,  and  consequently  it 
is  made  very  much  use  of,  the  result  being  a  dazzling 
brilliancy  about  the  public  buildings.  There  is 
every  kind  of  architecture — Greek,  Renaissance, 
Modern  Greek,  Gothic,  Modern  Gothic,  Venetian 
—in  fact,  the  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  at  New  York 
is  a  copy  of  the  Doge's  Palace  ;  there  are  also  many 
specimens  of  the  coloured-brick  style. 

One  of  the  great  features  in  America  is  the  hotels. 
They  are  much  more  public  buildings  than  our  hotels 
are.  The  basement-floor  is  usually  open  ;  very  often 
there  is  a  restaurant,  a  barber's  shop,  and  every  kind 
of  convenience  for  people  who  are  not  staying  in  the 
hotel :  hot  and  cold  water,  brushes,  toilet-soap,  and 
so  on.  There  are  also  rooms  for  newspapers,  and 
other  accommodations  that  strangers  need ;  and  any- 
body may  go  into  these  parts  of  the  hotel  and  make 
himself  at  home,  because,  of  course,  in  hotels  which 
have  from  seven  hundred  to  eight  hundred  bedrooms, 


328  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

it  is  impossible  for  anyone  to  say  whether  a  man  is 
staying  in  the  hotel  or  not. 

Now  about  the  people.  I  want  to  correct  a 
misapprehension  that  exists.  I  received  from  all 
the  people  whom  I  met  the  greatest  civility  and 
kindness.  They  had  the  greatest  interest  in  England, 
or  '  the  old  country,'  as  they  called  it.  They  made  the 
observation  that  we  Britishers  were  very  proud,  and 
that  we  would  not  allow  ourselves  to  be  loved. 
There  is  some  truth  in  that.  The  peculiarity  of 
Americans  is  that  they  are  very  confidential  ;  they 
give  you  their  own  histories,  and  expect  you  to  tell 
them  yours.  .  .  .  You  meet  a  man  who  asks  you 
where  you  come  from  and  where  you  are  going  to. 
He  tells  you  where  he  is  coming  from  and  where  he 
is  going,  and  he  does  it  so  naturally  that  you  do 
not  feel  it  at  all  intrusive,  as  you  would  in  England. 
Then  there  is  their  remarkable  power  of  talk.  I 
scarcely  ever  met  with  an  educated  American  who  is 
not  able  to  speak  with  great  fluency  and  power.  I 
used  to  hear  discussions  when  the  fire-flies  were 
flitting  about — arguments  about  Free  Trade,  Pro- 
tection, and  so  on — and  I  confess  I  never  heard 
subjects  so  freely  and  fairly  discussed.  ...  I  at- 
tribute a  great  deal  of  it  to  the  public  life  which 
they  lead.  The  extreme  heat  of  the  weather 
obliges  them  to  be  a  good  deal  in  verandas,  the 
families  all  round  visit  each  other  constantly,  and 
there  is  a  community  of  interest  that  leads  greatly  to 
a  cosmopolitan  and  enlarged  feeling.  They  are  not 
nearly  so  exclusive  as  we  are.  I  received  .... 


AMERICAN  FEELING  TOWARDS  ENGLAND         329 

every  possible  attention  :  invitations  of  all  kinds, 
presents  of  railway  passes  from  Philadelphia  to  the 
sea-coast  and  back  for  the  whole  season,  and  things 
of  that  sort. 

As  an  instance  of  the  feeling  towards  England,  I 
will  mention  some  remarks  made  by  widely  different 
persons.  A  gentleman  said,  '  We  have  the  same 
heroes  as  you  ;  we  look  upon  all  the  English  writers 
as  our  writers  ;  we  consider  Shakespeare  as  much 
ours  as  yours  ;  the  first  place  an  educated  American 
goes  to  on  his  arrival  in  England  is  Stratford- on- 
Avon,'  and  so  on.  He  went  very  fully  into  this, 
and  he  said,  'You  do  not  suppose  America  would  sit 
quietly  down  and  see  England  driven  into  a  corner  ?' 
I  said,  '  In  what  way  ?'  He  said,  '  Supposing  she 
was  really  in  difficulty  with  France  or  any  other 
country,  do  you  suppose  America  would  see  her 
over-run  ?'  Another  gentleman  said,  '  If  England 
wanted  help,  and  called  to  America  for  that  help,  we 
should  send  you  over  half  a  million  of  men.'  I  am 
bound  at  the  same  time  to  say  in  fairness  that,  in 
coming  home  on  board  ship,  I  had  a  good  deal  of 
talk  with  some  American  men  of  the  lower  class, 
and  I  told  them  what  I  had  heard.  They  said, 
'  Don't  you  believe  a  word  of  it ;  there  are  many 
Americans  who  would  like  to  see  England  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sea.'  That  only  shows  that  there  are 
different  laminse  of  society,  but  there  are  in  America 
gentlemen  to  whom  there  are  no  superiors  in  the 
world,  and  all  these  people  have  a  strong  affection 
for  the  old  country ;  and  when  we  hear  of  the 


330  CHARLES   WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

American  '  tricks,'  as  they  are  called,  these  are 
done  by  people  whom  the  bulk  of  Americans 
condemn  as  much  as  we  do.  And  I  wish  to  show 
that  there  is  a  large  and  strong  class  in  America, 
who  do  not  come  forward  in  politics,  but  who  have 
the  strongest  feeling  of  affection  for  England. 

There  is  in  some  minds  an  impression  that  the 
Americans  are  a  very  drunken  set.  All  I  can 
say  is,  I  never  saw  anything  of  it.  All  the  upper 
classes  drink  iced  water.  A  gentleman  from  Boston 
told  me  that  in  the  Eastern  States  wine  was  never 
placed  on  the  table,  or  if  it  was,  the  ladies  thought 
it  a  hint  for  them  to  leave  the  room.  One  reason  is 
that  wine  is  very  scarce  and  very  dear,  a  bottle  of 
claret,  e.g.,  costing  2  dollars,  or  more  than  8s. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  am  told  that  there  is  a  vast 
degree  of  drinking  at  the  bars,  and  that  no  bargains 
are  made  without  adjourning  to  the  bar.  I  did  not 
see  anything  of  the  kind.  I  often  passed  the  bars, 
but  as  often  as  not  the  beverage  that  men  were 
drinking  was  iced  lemonade,  or  something  of  that 
sort.  I  did  not  see  any  drinking  to  anything  like 
the  extent  we  have  heard  of. 

There  has  been  of  late  existing  between  the  two 
countries  a  much  better  feeling.  This  was  repeated 
to  me  again  and  again.  The  bad  feeling  is  greatly 
occasioned  by  certain  most  scurrilous  newspapers, 
which  rout  up  everything  they  can  to  promote 
hostility  against  England.  The  educated  classes 
have  the  strongest  feeling  in  favour  of  England,  and 
I  was  told  by  some  of  the  officers  at  the  Inter- 


INTERNATIONAL  GOODWILL  331 

national  Exhibition  that  the  intelligence,  the  activity, 
the  judgment  of  the  British  Commissioners  and  the 
judges  have  greatly  promoted  that  good  feeling,  as 
well  as  the  liberal  response  of  the  British  exhibitors. 
As  this  is  a  growing  feeling,  I  think  everything 
should  be  done  to  bring  about  a  stronger  and  more 
affectionate  intercourse. 


[  332  ] 


CHAPTER  XI. 

CONCLUSION. 

AFTER  arriving  at  home,  my  daughter  Charlotte 
Ellen  was  married  to  J.  Watson  Nicol,  a  young  and 
promising  painter,  the  son  of  Mr.  Erskine  Nicol, 
Associate  of  the  Royal  Academy,  and  painter  of  the 
celebrated  humorous  Scottish  subjects.  After  this  I 
went  up  to  join  Charlie  and  May  at  Maxwelton, 
Dumfries.  He  was  acting  as  temporary  chaplain  to 
Mrs.  Laurie.  They  lived  in  a  cottage  called  The 
Mains,  close  by,  kept  by  a  good  couple,  the  head- 
gardener  and  his  wife.  The  house  was  full  of 
guests,  pleasant  people  and  pretty  girls,  and  we 
received  from  Mrs.  Laurie  the  greatest  hospitality. 
There  was  a  trout-stream  also,  the  Cairn  water, 
running  through  her  property,  which  was  greatly- 
appreciated.  After  the  heat  and  bustle  of  the  past 
months,  the  cool  pastures  seemed  doubly  delightful. 
My  son  and  his  wife  were  for  two  years  living  with 
me  at  Kensington,  as  he  was  helping  his  old  friend 
and  former  Vicar  at  St.  Peter's  again. 

1877. — Exhibited  at  Royal  Academy:  i.  'Bianca's 
Lovers,'  Bianca  at  a  table  :  seated  beside  her  sits  her 


LIEUTENANT  CAMERON'S  RETURN  333 

(supposed)  language-master  ;  her  (supposed)  music- 
master  behind,  growing  impatient,  says  his  instru- 
ment's '  in  tune.'  L.  Master :  '  The  bass  jars/ 
M.  Master:  'Tis  the  base  knave  that  jars.'  Sold 
to  Mr.  C.  P.  Matthews,  of  Romford.  2.  '  Hope 
Deferred,'  a  girl  drooping  in  her  chair.  Sold  to 
Mr.  J.  Fielden,  Todmorden  Castle.  I  here  begin 
to  be  uncertain  about  dates  and  events,  having  no 
records,  but  I  think  I  must  have  spent  the  summer 
of  1877  at  Shoreham,  near  Sevenoaks  in  Kent, 
painting  the  picture  of  '  Lieutenant  Cameron's  Return 
Home.'  I  had  seen  a  newspaper  account  (in  the 
Daily  News]  which  greatly  interested  me,  and  I 
communicated  on  the  subject  with  the  Cameron 
family.  They  cordially  offered  to  help  me,  and  I 
first  went  to  Shoreham  and  made  sketches,  and  got 
a  few  photographs  of  the  church  and  churchyard, 
and  of  the  family  and  neighbours  who  were  present. 
I  could  find  no  room  in  which  to  paint,  when 
Mrs.  St.  John  Mildmay  kindly  offered  me  the  use  of 
her  photographic  studio  attached  to  the  house, 
which  I  thankfully  accepted.  Arthur  accompanied 
me,  and  we  had  lodgings  near  the  paper-mill,  and  I 
went  daily  to  the  great  house  to  my  work.  We 
received  the  greatest  kindness  from  the  Cameron 
family  in  every  possible  way.  The  Mildmay s  were 
absent  during  a  great  part  of  the  summer,  so  that,  I 
did  not  feel  myself  an  intruder.  A  short  thanks- 
giving service  was  held  at  the  church  before  the 
hero  entered  his  home.  The  principal  figures  were 
all  portraits  from  life  :  the  venerable  father,  Rector 


334  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

of  the  parish,  standing  to  receive  his  son  at  the 
church-door;  Mrs.  Cameron  and  the  young  ladies; 
the  gallant  African  explorer  standing  up  in  the  little 
carriage  drawn  by  enthusiastic  parishioners  and 
villagers  amidst  shouting  and  joy.  The  Mildmay 
family  were  present,  and  their  neighbours,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hichens,  and  others,  all  of  whom  kindly  sat  to 
me  more  or  less.  As  the  studio  was  close  to  a 
beautiful  flower-garden,  it  was  very  pleasant.  There 
was  also  a  little  trout-stream  full  of  fish.  This 
picture  is  now  the  property  of  Mr.  Mildmay,  and 
was  exhibited,  I  think,  in  the  Royal  Academy  in 
1878. 

In  the  spring  of  this  year  Charlie  and  May's 
child  Florry  was  born  in  my  house,  and  was  named 
after  my  daughter  Florry,  who  had  been  a  very 
great  friend  of  May's.  They  soon  left  me,  as  he 
was  appointed  as  Warden  of  a  House  of  Mercy  at 
Maplestead  in  Essex,  where  I  occasionally  visited 
them. 

1879.  —  Exhibited  i  :  'Hamlet  and  Ophelia.' 
Ophelia  returning  to  Hamlet  his  gifts  :  '  Gifts  are 
of  little  worth  when  givers  prove  unkind.'  Hamlet  is 
sitting  moodily  by  the  fire.  Sold  to  J.  Dawson,  Esq., 
Northbrook,  Exeter.  Also,  2.  '  Sad  Memories  '; 
3.  '  Hesitation  '54.'  Country  Life  in  the  Olden 
Times.'  As  Arthur  and  I  were  now  alone, 
the  other  children  being  dispersed,  I  felt  that 
the  house  was  larger  than  I  required.  I  there- 
fore let  it  to  Mr.  W.  C.  Mitchell,  a  young  and  am- 
bitious painter,  and  having  sold  most  of  the  furniture, 


SECOND  MARRIAGE  335 

I  went  first  to  Lucton  to  reside  with  Margaret  and 
her  husband,  and  from  thence  to  stay  with  Charlie 
and  May  in  their  pretty  little  cottage  at  Maplestead. 
Here  I  met  Miss  Eleanor  Smart,  sister  of  an  old 
pupil  of  mine  (Gregory  Smart).  She  was  also  an 
old  family  friend.  She  took  pity  on  my  solitude, 
and  we  became  engaged.  We  were  married  at 
Barnet,  the  residence  of  her  brothers  Robert  and 
Newton  Smart,  the  rest  of  her  family,  brothers, 
Revs.  John  and  Gregory,  being  present.  John 
Smart  and  my  son  Charles  officiated.  This  took 
place  on  November  19,  1879.  We  went  first  to 
Exeter,  then  to  Budleigh  Salterton  for  a  few  weeks 
(where  my  old  friend  Mrs.  Gerrard  was  then  living), 
and  then  returned  to  Lucton,  and  remained  there 
till  we  settled  at  Maidenhead,  but  not  before  we  had 
gone  over  all  the  pleasant  country  around  London 
in  search  of  a  dwelling-place,  and  we  extended  our 
search  even  as  far  as  Arundel. 

Mr.  Harrison,  of  Lancaster,  died  in  1879,  and 
his  wife  in  1881.  He  left  his  property  to  be  divided 
equally  amongst  his  nephews,  C.  Benning,  H.  Ross, 
Rev.  W.  B.  Galloway,  and  me — the  two  latter 
representing  his  nieces.  We  all  went  (with  our 
wives)  to  Morecambe  to  administer  the  estate. 

1880. — Exhibited:  i.  '  An  Inquisition  ';  2.  'Per- 
plexed'; 3.  'The  Good  Shepherd.' 

In  1 88 1  exhibited:  i.  'Far-away  Thoughts'; 
sold  to  Mr.  J.  Craufurd.  2.  '  Janet  Escaped,'  por- 
trait of  a  grandchild,  and  given  to  her  mother,  my 
daughter  Margaret  Auchmuty. 


336  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

1882. —  i.  'Summer  Time';  2.  'Anne  Page  and 
Slander.' 

My  son  Harry  was  taken  away  on  July  28, 
1882.  He  had  led  a  very  unsettled  life,  poor 
lad  !  After  leaving  his  brother-in-law  he  was  taken 
into  a  large  merchant's  offices  by  a  friend  of  mine 
as  a  great  favour.  He  threw  it  up,  in  consequence 
of  being  found  fault  with.  I  then  placed  him  with 
an  accountant  in  the  City,  with  whom  he  remained 
more  than  a  year.  His  report  was  not  satisfactory, 
as  his  master  could  not  depend  on  his  accuracy.  He 
left  him.  He  made  objectionable  acquaintances, 
and,  thinking  it  advisable  to  cut  off  all  bad  con- 
nections, I  sent  him  out  to  Australia.  There  he  soon 
got  on  to  a  station  and  learned  stock-breeding,  etc., 
and  in  consideration  of  his  instructing  two  of  the 
squatter's  sons  he  received  a  small  salary.  He  left 
him,  and  took  to  cattle-driving  with  a  party  of  men, 
living  an  out-door  life  on  horseback  and  sleeping 
on  the  ground.  *Their  business  was  to  undertake 
to  drive  hundreds  of  cattle  from  one  part  of  the 
country  to  another.  He  then  had  fever,  and  took  a 
clerkship  in  a  store,  where  he  was  very  ill.  As 
soon  as  he  recovered  he  became  an  agent  for  the 
colonies.  Here  he  saved  enough  money  to  enable 
him  to  come  home,  and  he  paid  for  his  passage  to 
England.  The  ship  was  nearly  wrecked,  and  had  to 
return  to  port  to  refit.  After  disputes  with  the  owners, 
they  agreed,  in  order  to  avoid  a  lawsuit  for  the 
recovery  of  his  passage-money,  to  pay  back  a  cer- 
tain sum.  With  this  he  went  to  Sydney,  and  took 


HENRY  BENNING  COPE  337 

passage  in  the  steerage  of  a  ship  bound  for  England. 
He  appeared  amongst  us  one  night  after  dinner,  gaunt 
and  grimy,  and  carrying  a  small  (nearly  empty)  port- 
manteau, and  two  or  three  spears  and  boomerangs,  a 
prodigal  son !  I  refitted  him  with  new  clothes,  and 
he  soon  looked  his  old  handsome  self.  His  next 
scheme  was  to  return  to  Australia  with  an  ice- 
making  machine,  which  he  assured  us  would  be 
most  profitable.  I  ordered  one,  and  Harry  engaged 
a  mechanic  to  work  it.  He  settled  at  Sydney,  and 
on  consideration  of  his  giving  up  his  ice-machine  to 
a  brewer,  he  was  taken  into  partnership,  as  without 
ice  it  is  difficult  to  brew  in  hot  weather.  After 
a  few  months  he  and  his  partner  disagreed  and 
separated.  He  opened  an  office  as  general  agent, 
and  seemed  to  be  thriving,  and  as  he  was  very 
genial  and  merry  he  had  many  friends.  Not  feel- 
ing well  one  day,  he  went  to  a  doctor  and  consulted 
him.  As  he  left  his  door,  talking  and  laughing,  he 
suddenly  fell  forward  down  the*  steps.  He  was 
taken  back  into  the  house — dead!  It  was  caused 
by  heart-disease,  the  remains,  I  suppose,  of  a  severe 
attack  of  rheumatic  fever  when  he  was  about  four 
years  old,  and  from  which  the  doctors  thought  he 
would  not  recover.  Poor  lad !  he  was  a  very  hand- 
some, well-knit  fellow,  very  merry  and  amusing,  and 
no  one's  enemy  but  his  own. 

My  youngest  son,  Lawrence,  distinguished  himself 
at  school  at  Dover,  and  his  master  suggested  his  try- 
ing for  an  open  scholarship  at  Cheltenham,  as  his 
own  son  also  was  going  to  try  for  a  senior  scholar- 

22 


338  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

ship.  The  lads  went,  and  had  for  two  or  three  days 
to  undergo  an  examination.  I  was  staying  at  the  time 
at  Ulpha  in  Cumberland,  and  I  received  a  letter  from 
the  headmaster,  to  inquire  '  in  what  master's  house 
at  Cheltenham  I  would  desire  to  place  my  son.'  I 
replied  that,  although  I  knew  my  son  had  entered 
into  the  competition  for  a  scholarship,  as  he  had 
returned  to  school  I  had  concluded  that  he  had 
failed  in  getting  one.  It  turned  out  that  the  lads 
had  been  of  opinion  that  they  had  failed  ;  and,  in- 
stead of  waiting  to  see  the  report  of  the  examiners, 
they  had  left  without  making  any  inquiries.  Law- 
rence had  really  stood  very  high — I  believe  second, 
out  of  twenty  competitors.  He  stayed  at  Chelten- 
ham for  some  years,  and  got  on  well,  satisfying  his 
masters  both  in  his  work  and  conduct.  I  then 
placed  him  as  articled  pupil  with  my  old  friend 
Stanhope  Busby,  son  of  my  old  friends  of  early 
years  at  Brighton,  and  now  Town  Clerk  of  Derby  ; 
and  when  Lawrence  had  passed  his  final  examina- 
tion as  an  attorney,  he  elected  to  go  out  and  prac- 
tise in  Australia.  There  he  has  remained  ever 
since,  settled  down  at  Casino  on  the  Richmond 
River,  New  South  Wales ;  but,  partly  owing  to 
disastrous  floods,  and  the  non-completion  of  a  pro- 
posed railway,  he  has  only  just  maintained  himself. 
Everything  in  the  way  of  business  is  predicted  to 
spring  up  when  this  railway  is  completed.  May 
it  be  so ! 

[Here  my  father's  own  writing  ceases,  and  there 
remains  but  little  to  add  in  order  to  complete  the 


HIS  LATTER  DAYS  339 

narrative   of  his   life.      He    retired   on    to    the   list 
of  honorary    members   of  the    Royal  Academy   in 
1883,  and  ceased   to   exhibit  after  the   year    1882. 
He  lived  quietly  and  happily  at   Maidenhead,  and 
his  various  children  and  grandchildren  visited  him 
there  from  time  to  time,  as  circumstances  permitted. 
He  still  amused  himself  in  painting,  and  executed 
several   small  subjects  from  old  designs  of  former 
years.     Many  of  these,  however,  have,  by  his  wish, 
been  destroyed,  as  he  was  conscious  that  they  were 
not  up  to  the  standard  of  his  former  capabilities. 
One  large  picture  of  the  '  Seven  Ages,'  from  Shake- 
speare, he  kept   on   hand,  and  brought  forward  to 
a  certain  advanced  point,  but  never  quite  completed 
it,  finding  a  difficulty  in  obtaining  nature  to  work 
from.      He  was  more  or  less  busy  on  it  in  various 
ways  until  within  a  very  short  time  before  his  death. 
During    the    first    few   years    of    his    sojourn   at 
Maidenhead  he  enjoyed  much   being  on  the  river, 
though  he  began   to  prefer  being  sculled  to  scull- 
ing   himself ;  and    at    the   age    of    72    he    took    to 
tricycle-riding,   and    travelled    over  a  good  deal  of 
the  neighbourhood  in  every  direction,  often  taking 
sketch-book   and    colour-box.       On    one   of    these 
occasions   he    got    over-heated,    and   a   subsequent 
chill    brought   on  a  severe   and   dangerous    illness, 
and  he  feared  that  if  he  recovered   it  could  only 
be  to  lead  the  life  of  a  complete  invalid.      How- 
ever,  he   recovered    more   completely  than    any  of 
us  dared  to  hope  ;  and  one  day,  when  he  was  com- 
plaining of  his  feebleness,  his  good  doctor  (Moore) 


340  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

exclaimed,  '  You  ?  Why,  you're  the  strongest  man 
in  Maidenhead !'  He  was  in  the  habit  of  going  up 
to  town  for  about  a  fortnight  in  the  season,  to  be 
present  at  the  Academy  on  the  members'  '  varnish- 
ing days,'  as  they  used  to  be  called  ;  and  we  used 
generally  to  have  a  large  family  gathering  at  the 
private  view,  and  all  lunch  with  him  there. 

He  latterly  gave  up  going  to  the  Academy  dinner, 
but  so  late  as  this  year*  made  his  appearance  on  one 
of  the  members'  days,  and  received  a  very  warm 
welcome  from  his  brethren,  which  greatly  pleased 
him. 

He  was  always  fond  of  dogs.  At  Kensington  we 
had  a  succession  of  terriers  of  various  sorts.  One 
of  the  earliest,  Spice,  a  little  black  and  tan  terrier 
from  Barnard  Castle,  was  immortalized  by  John 
Bell,  the  sculptor,  who  designed  a  clever  umbrella- 
stand  in  bronze,  Spice  sitting  up  begging,  with  a 
hunting-whip  in  her  mouth,  the  twined  lash  of  which 
holds  in  the  umbrellas.  A  neighbour  of  mine  in 
Essex,  Mr.  C.  Brewster,  had  a  handsome  fox-terrier 
he  wanted  to  get  a  home  for,  and  as  my  father  wanted 
a  dog  at  Maidenhead,  I  asked  for  him,  and  conveyed 
him  there,  and  he  became  a  great  favourite,  and  was 
my  father's  constant  companion  for  several  years. 
The  following  letter  contains  a  reference  to  him  : 

'Maidenhead,  Christmas  Day,  1888. 

'  MY  DEAREST  LADDIE,  f 

'  All  best  wishes  and  love  to  you  all.     May 

every  blessing  attend  you  and  yours  !     Thanks  for 

*  1890. 


DOGS  341 

your  good  wishes.  Of  course,  at  my  age  I  cannot 
expect  "  many  happy  returns,"  but  I  feel  deep  grati- 
tude for  the  many  I  have  already  had.  "  Goodness 
and  mercy  "  seem  to  have  followed  me  throughout 
my  whole  life,  notwithstanding  troubles  incident  to 
humanity.  I  hoped  to  have  sent  you  as  a  Christmas 
card  some  lines  I  have  been  inspired  to  write  on 
dear  old  Romp,  with  a  small  photo  of  the  dog  at 
the  top,*  but  the  photographer  could  not  get  them 
done  on  account  of  dark  weather  ;  but  you  shall  have 
a  copy  as  soon  as  I  can  get  some.  The  lines,  prob- 
ably, are  very  poor,  but  I  felt  them  strongly,  and 
they  came  spontaneously.  Arthur  Auchmuty  seemed 
to  like  them,  as  I  submitted  them  to  him  in  manu- 
script, and  he  edited  them  in  one  or  two  points. 
How  much  I  miss  that  dear  little  animal,  I  can't 
say.  He  was  so  gracious,  so  grave,  and  yet  so 
affectionate.  I  think  I  will  not  have  another  ;  one 
gets  too  fond  of  them,  and  their  loss  is  too  sad.  .  .  . 
Good-bye.  Love  to  May  and  Florry,  and  from 
Eleanor  also. 

'  Ever  your  affectionate  Father, 

'C.  W.  COPE.' 

As  late  as  1886  Mr.  Cope  acted  as  examiner  in 
painting  for  the  South  Kensington  Schools  of  Art, 
to  which  office  he  had  been  appointed  in  1870.  The 
questions,  like  his  lectures  on  painting  at  the  Royal 
Academy,  cover  a  wide  field  of  art  interest,  embrac- 
ing the  history  and  progress  of  art  in  ancient  and 
modern  times,  various  methods  of  painting,  charac- 

*  From  a  little  oil-picture  he   painted  of   Romp  at  the  window, 
watching  for  cats. 


342  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

teristics  of  different  schools  and  masters,  and  technical 
details,  such  as  the  preparation  of  fresco-grounds,  and 
the  durability  and  composition  of  various  colours. 
He  also  interested  himself  in  a  local  art  school  at 
Maidenhead,  and,  I  think,  used  to  offer  an  annual 
prize  for  some  years.  These  various  employments, 
and  much  reading,  filled  up  the  later  years  of  his  life 
usefully  and  agreeably,  and  he  retained  the  vigour 
of  his  intellectual  powers,  keenness  of  observation, 
and  humour  till  the  last  short  illness. 

The  following  letter,  which  I  received  in  Rome 
last  year,  shows  how  vivid  his  impressions  remained 
after  so  many  years  : 

'  Maidenhead,  February  26,  1889. 

'  DEAREST  CHARLIE, 

'  I  don't  think  that  there  is  anything  that  I 
can  suggest  for  you  to  see  at  Rome  which  (and 
more)  you  have  not  already  seen,  for  the  guide- 
books are  so  copious,  and  so  many  things  have  been 
unearthed  since  I  was  there.  I  regret  not  having 
visited  the  Catacombs  and  the  tombs  of  the  early 
Christian  martyrs.  What  most  of  all  delighted  me 
were  the  Vatican  marbles,  wondrous  art  productions 
of  the  Greeks,  and  I  was  never  tired  of  going  there. 
I  think  you  will  find  so  much  to  interest  you  at 
Naples,  that  I  think  too  long  a  time  is  given  to 
Sorrento,  which  is  rather  a  place  to  live  in  for  the 
summer  hot  months  than  for  a  hasty  visit.  If  you 
do  go  and  stay  there,  take  a  boat  and  scull  under 
the  cliffs  to  your  right,  towards  Vesuvius,  and 
explore  some  of  the  caves  you  will  find  there, 


ITALIAN  REMINISCENCES  343 

gruesome  and  lonely.  Then  there  is  Pompeii,  and 
Psestum,  and  Ischia,  and  Procida.  If  you  have  a 
week  to  spare  for  Sorrento,  I  suggest  whether  it 
would  not  be  more  interesting  to  go  over  the  hill 
to  Amalfi  (lovely),  and  then,  from  Salerno,  take  a 
trip  and  back  (one  day)  to  the  glorious  temples  at 
Psestum  ;  then  Ischia,  what  an  interesting  island ! 
Capri,  grotto  blue,  etc.  From  Naples  there  are 
the  Mare  Morto  and  Grotto  of  Posilipo,  and  places 
of  great  historical  interest  ;  then  Vesuvius — now, 
however,  not,  I  suppose,  in  eruption.  Then  at 
Florence  there  are  heaps  of  things  to  see  :  the 
gallery,  with  collection  of  early  Italian  paintings, 
and  also  the  Tribuna  (Venus  de'  Medici,  and  some 
of  the  finest  paintings).  Then  the  Pitti  Gallery  : 
splendid  collection.  How  I  envy  you  your  tour ! 
but  I  am  contented  and  thankful  to  have  seen  the 
beauties  years  ago,  and  can  live  on  the  recollec- 
tions. .  .  . 

'  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

'  C.  W.  COPE.' 

The  next  four,  amongst  other  things,  have  refer- 
ence to  these  '  Reminiscences,'  which  I  persuaded 
him  to  write. 

'  Maidenhead,  July  29,  1889, 
'  2nd  day  of  79th  year. 

4  MY  DEAREST  CHARLIE, 

'A  thousand  thanks  for  your  very  kind  wishes 
for  me  and  my  future  life.  It  is  quite  true,  as  you 
say,  that  I  have  no  wish  to  live  longer  than  God  in 
His  merciful  dispensation  shall  permit  me  some 


344  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

faculty  of  the  enjoyment  of  His  many  mercies.     We 
all  naturally  shrink  from  a  life  of  weariness  and  pain, 
when  old  age  only  produces  "labour  and  sorrow"  ; 
when  a  man  becomes  a  burden  to  himself  and  to  all 
around  him,  and  the  only  happiness  left   is   to  be 
delivered  from   our  poor,   worn-out   body.      May  a 
merciful    Father  give    me  patient    resignation,  and 
thankful  submission  to  the  universal  law !     When  I 
look  back  on  my  life,  I  realize  how  greatly  I  have 
been   blest,  and  led   on   in   a  marvellous  way  to  a 
peaceful  old  age,  far  beyond  my  expectations  ;  and 
this  reflection  ought  to  cause  me  to  trust  Him  for 
the  future,  which  I  endeavour  to  do.  .  .  .  We  hope 
to  leave  for  Bournemouth   to-morrow.  ...   I  hope 
that  Blankenberghe  will  do  you  all  much  good,  and 
make  Florry  fat  and  jolly.    The  air  there  is  certainly 
very  bracing,  and  the  good  food  at  the  boarding-houses 
will  help.      I  have  begun  the  "retrospect,"  and  have 
got  through  the  only  real  dark  period  of  my  life  after 
my  poor  father's  death.      I  was  thinking  of  skipping 
this  period,  but  I  have  merely  generally  touched  on 
the  various  points,  and  it  required  an  effort  to  recur 
to  what  at  the  time  was  so  painful.     What  follows 
is  not  painful  ;  for  although  I  had  one  great  afflic- 
tion, there  was  no  trace  of  sin  mixed  up  with  it,  as 
in  the  former  case.      Give  our  loves  to  May  and 
Florry,    whom    I    hope    some    day    to    see    again. 
Thank    Florry  for   her   well-written    letter.      Bless 
and  thank  you. 

'  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

1  C.  W.  COPE. 


BOURNEMOUTH  345 


'  The  Sawyers,*   Ed.    Bonds,   Gooldens,t  are  all 
going  or  gone  to  Bournemouth.' 

'  Bournemouth,  August  21,  1889. 

'  DEAR  CHARLIE, 

'  You  will  be  sorry  to  hear  that  our  visit  here 
has  been  a  sad  failure.  After  the  first  three  or  four 
days  I  was  taken  ill  ...  and  was  kept  in  bed  under 
treatment,  and  got  up  at  last  very  weak  and  thin. 
But  I  gain  a  little  strength  daily.  I  think  I  must  be 
rather  a  tough  subject,  to  rally  so  often.  .  .  .  Then 
poor  dear  Eleanor,  I  think,  overdid  herself  in  her 
anxious  solicitude,  and  now  she  is  being  doctored. 
...  I  never  can  feel  grateful  enough  for  her  great 
love  and  watchfulness.  We  got  as  far  as  the  pier 
one  day,  and  that  is  the  utmost  of  our  walks.  The 
Bonds  are  here,  and  come  to  cheer  us  occasionally, 
and  the  Sawyers  also  are  close  by  and  most  kind. 
But  the  blossom  of  illness  has  produced  some  fruit, 
I  fear,  of  no  great  flavour:  viz.,  I  have  steadily 
worked  at  my  diary,  and  have  got  as  far  as  my 
return  from  Italy  and  settlement  in  Russell  Place ; 
and  shortly  I  am  going  to  Lisson  Grove,  and  then 
to  Barnard  Castle  and  my  marriage.  I  almost  think 
this  will  be  a  good  place  to  leave  off.  What  think 
you  ?J  The  romantic  part  of  my  life  will  have  ended 
then,  and  my  professional  life  is  rather  jog-trot.  We 
have  had  more  than  usual  of  wet  and  wind.  Eleanor 
hired  a  chair  and  wheeled  me  about,  but  we  have  lost 

*  Rev.  W.  Sawyer,  Vicar  of  St.  Luke's,  Maidenhead, 
f  Maidenhead.  {  I  thought  not. 


346  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

many  days  from  damp  and  gloom.     We  hope  you 
are  all  jolly.     Our  loves  to  you  all. 

'  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

'  C.  W.  COPE.' 

'  Maidenhead,  October  18,  1889. 

'  DEAREST  CHARLIE, 

'  I  have  obeyed  your  behest.  The  auto- 
biography is  done,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
addenda  at  the  end  which  have  occurred  to  me 
since  I  began.  There  are  three  volumes  of  thick 
copy-book  nearly.  It  is  singular  how  events  which 
have  happened  long  ago  and  been  forgotten  seem  to 
"  crop  up "  again  when  the  attention  has  been 
directed  to  that  period  of  life — even  to  names  of 
people  and  places.  Also,  it  is  a  sad  fact  that  one's 
memory  is  clearer  as  to  events  happening  many 
years  ago  than  with  regard  to  those  of  later  date, 
showing  how  much  one's  attentiveness  has  failed  in 
later  years.  The  impressions  are  much  less  sharp 
and  distinct  in  old  age  than  in  youth.  Of  course, 
my  "  recollections  "  at  present  are  a  confused  mass 
of  stuff.  If  it  should  ever  happen  that  they  are 
privately  published,  they  will  want  much  weeding. 
....  There  is  not  much  of  one's  professional 
history* — a  great  deal  of  fishing  excursions  and 
travels.  To  me  these  are  much  more  amusing  to 
write  about.  .  .  .  Enough,  the  task  is  accomplished, 
and  it  is  at  your  service,  if  you  care  some  time  to 
edit  it.  ...  In  short,  do  as  you  like.  .  .  .  Our 

loves  to  you  both. 

'Ever  affectionately  yours, 

'C.  W.  COPE.' 

*  This  has  had  to  be  supplied  from  other  sources. 


ORIGIN  OF  THE  MEMOIR  347 

'  Maidenhead,  December  20,  1889. 

'  MY  DEAREST  LADDIE, 

'  I  sent  my  little  tip  to  Florry  yesterday  of 
i  os.,  as  I  do  to  all  my  grandchildren.  I  hope  she 
will  buy  something  to  please  her,  and  I  wish  her  and 
you  and  dear  May  every  Christmas  blessing  and  a 
happy  new  year  !  I  enclose  two  or  three  more  items 
to  be  inserted  somewhere  in  my  autobiography.  I 
may  add  others  if  they  occur  to  me,  but  unless  I  put 
down  at  once  what  crops  up,  I  forget  it  next  day.  I 
have  been  wondering  whether  I  should  say  anything 
about  artists'  models.  They  are  rather  a  curious 
lot,  and  some  of  them,  e.g.,  Bishop  and  Westall,  and 
some  of  the  females,  have  rather  interesting  his- 
tories ;  and  it  would  show  to  the  outside  public  what 
a  severe  and  serious  business  sitting  is,  requiring 
temperance,  fortitude,  and  great  self -discipline 
and  punctuality,  and  also  that  worthless  and 
vain  characters  are  of  no  use,  and  soon  come  to 
grief  and  loss  of  employment.  What  do  you  think 
about  it  ?  [Here  follows  family  news.].  ...  I'm 
tired,  so  good-bye,  my  dear  lad.  Love  to  May  and 
Florry. 

'Ever  affectionately  yours, 

'C.  W.  COPE.' 

I  had  urged  him  to  say  something  on  the  subject 
of  models,  and  have  since  found  on  a  loose  piece 
of  paper  the  following  preparatory  outline  : 

'  Royal  Academy  Models. — Necessity  of,  to  serious 
design  ;  consequences  of  neglect  of ;  the  petticoat 


348  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

school ;  essential  to  sculpture  and  historical  painting. 
Examples  of  models  —  Male  :  Rafter  (the  old 
fruiterer),  Westall,  Bishop,  guardsman.  Female  : 
Mrs.  Dobson,  history  of ;  a  model  married,  and 
went  to  Australia  ;  the  three  sisters ;  Devonshire 
woman  ;  the  Arab  girl.  A  model  must  have 
conduct,  sobriety,  punctuality,  enduring  patience, 
honesty,  temperance,  good  health  and  temper, 
intellectuality,  modesty.  Italian  models  and  their 
mothers.' 

And  in  another  note-book  is  a  commencement  of 
the  subject,  in  these  words  : 

'  A  thorough  knowledge  of  the  human  form  is 
essential  to  all  serious  art.  This  is  self-evident,  and 
has  been  acknowledged  by  all  great  masters,  both  in 
ancient  and  modern  times.  As  well  may  a  surgeon 
hope  to  excel  in  his  calling  without  an  intimate  and 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  many  tissues,  bones, 
nerves,  arteries,  and  internal  structure  of  the  body, 
as  an  artist  to  represent  the  various  actions  of  the 
form,  the  due  balance  of  the  figure,  its  average 
movements  and  proportions,  without  sound  and 
intimate  knowledge  of  its  external  anatomy.  Strange 
to  say,  that  of  late  this  necessity  is  disputed,  and 
artists  of  some  standing  have  affirmed  that  know- 
ledge of  structure  is  unnecessary,  and  that  the 
draped  figure  is  quite  sufficient  for  purposes  of 
study  ;  in  other  words,  that  ignorance  of  the  form  to 
be  painted  is  the  best  guide  to  its  due  representation 
in  art.  Leonardo  da  Vinci  compares  the  drapery  on 
a  human  form  to  water  running  thinly  over  rocks, 


ARTISTS'  MODELS  349 

veiling,  but  not  concealing,  the  forms  beneath. 
How,  then,  can  this  be  done  successfully  without 
knowing  what,  and  where,  the  forms  are  ?' 

This  is  all,  but  it  is  suggestive,  and  should  be 
interesting  and  intelligible — to  the  art  world,  at  all 
events. 

The  '  last  birthday  '  letter  : 

'  Maidenhead,  July  30,  1890. 

'  DEAREST  CHARLIE, 

'  Many  thanks  for  your  kind  wishes  for  my 
health  and  happiness  after  commencing  my  eightieth 
year.  I  gratefully  feel  and  constantly  acknowledge 
God's  great  and  continuous  mercy  towards  me 
through  my  whole  life.  And  even  in  my  greatest 
troubles  I  have  been  able  to  see  abounding  mercy, 
especially  in  God's  removal  of  your  dearest  mother 
when  continued  life  would  have  been  only  pain  and 
suffering  from  a  mortal  disease.  May  He  guide  my 
feeble  steps  during  the  possible  short  remainder  of 
life !  .  .  .  After  full  consideration,  Arthur  and  I 
concluded  to  sell  the  house*  if  we  could.  .  .  To-day 
I  hear  that  a  lady  ....  is  the  purchaser.  It  is  a 
great  relief  to  me  to  have  got  rid  of  that  anxiety. 
....  We  propose  to  go  to  Bournemouth  next 
Tuesday  or  so.  ... 

'  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

'  C.  W.  COPE.' 

The  next  is  the  last  he  ever  wrote,  and  half  an 
hour  after  the  receipt  of  it  I  received  a  telegram  to 

*  At  Hyde  Park  Gate. 


350  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

say  he  had  caught  a  chill  and  was  seriously  ill.  The 
letter  refers  to  some  designs  he  kindly  made  for  five 
windows  in  the  chapel  of  the  House  of  Mercy  at 
Great  Maplestead,  Essex,  when  I  was  Warden 
there,  which  he  gave  me,  and  of  which  I  secured 
the  copyright.  They  were  executed  in  glass  by 
Powell,  of  Whitefriars.  The  subjects  are  :  on  one 
side,  to  illustrate  penitence,  '  The  lost  sheep  found,' 
'  The  lost  piece  of  money/  '  The  return  of  the 
prodigal ';  and  on  the  other  side,  to  illustrate  the 
religious  life,  'The  Pharisee  and  the  publican,' and 
'  The  Good  Samaritan.'  They  had  been  much 
admired,  and  I  found  had  been  copied,  without 
permission,  for  a  restored  church  in  another  part  of 
the  country. 

'Bournemouth,  August  10,  1890. 

'  DEAREST  CHARLIE, 

'  I  return  the  enclosed  copies  of  letters.  The 
first  point  which  occurs  to  me  in  answer  to  your 
inquiry  is  :  Did  you  register  the  copyright  of  the 
windows  ?*  If  not,  I  fear  you  cannot  proceed  to 
punish  the  offender  who  has  cribbed  the  designs  ; 
but  it  is,  I  believe,  not  too  late  to  register  them  if 
you  wish  to  prevent  others  from  doing  the  same. 
....  I  fear  you  rate  too  highly  the  merit,  and  still 
more  the  pecuniary  value,  of  the  little  designs,  either 
now  or  hereafter.  .  .  .  Certainly  no  one  has  the 
right  to  reproduce  them  for  his  own  benefit  in  any 
way  without  your  permission.  On  the  whole,  I 
should  let  the  matter  rest  as  it  is.  I  confess  that  I 

*  I  did. 


LAST  LETTER  351 


feel  pleased  that  they  should  be  so  far  appreciated 
as  to  be  copied.  ...  So  the  old  home  is  sold,  as  I 
told  you,  to  a  lady  of  considerable  means  (Mr.  P. 
says),  so  she  will  probably  enlarge  and  beautify  it. 
....  We  are  pretty  comfortable  here  in  our  old 
quarters.  .  .  .  We  shall  be  delighted  to  welcome 
you  in  October,  whenever  you  like  to  come.  The 
Arthurs  and  Nelly  and  Margaret,  etc.,  are  all  at 
Porlock,  and  seem  to  be  enjoying  themselves  in 
rustic  quarters.  .  .  . 

'  Ever  affectionately  yours, 

'  C.  W.  COPE.' 

This  letter,  written  on  the  Sunday  previous,  I 
received  at  Heyst-s.-Mer,  a  little  watering-place  on 
the  coast  of  Belgium,  on  a  Tuesday  morning.  On 
the  Monday  afternoon,  sitting  out  on  the  West 
Cliff  at  Bournemouth,  he  appears  to  have  caught  a 
chill.  Then  came  the  telegram  within  an  hour  ot 
the  receipt  of  the  letter.  A  second  telegram  the 
next  day  said  there  was  no  change,  and  a  third  on 
Thursday,  'You  had  better  come.'  So  I  started  by 
the  night-boat,  and  reached  Bournemouth  about 
mid-day  on  Friday,  the  I5th,  finding  my  brother 
Arthur  had  arrived  the  night  before  from  Porlock. 
We  sent  for  my  two  sisters,  who  arrived  the  next 
day,  but  did  not  any  of  us  see  him  (except  Arthur), 
for  fear  of  alarming  him.  The  chill  had  developed 
into  congestion  of  the  lungs.  Gradually  we  were 
allowed  to  see  him,  one  by  one,  and  he  seemed 
pleased  to  find  that  we  were  there,  but  was  mostly 


352  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

in  a  state  of  drowsiness  and  only  half  conscious  of 
what  was  going  on. 

On  Wednesday,  the  2Oth,  the  doctor  said  he 
hoped  he  was  going  to  pull  through,  as  he  had  had  a 
better  night,  and  I  had  written  to  inquire  about  an 
invalid  carriage  to  take  him  home  to  Maidenhead  as 
soon  as  he  was  able  to  bear  the  journey.  Arthur 
and  I  went  to  Swanage  for  the  day,  and  walked 
back  to  Bournemouth  in  the  afternoon,  and  when 
we  got  back  he  was  much  the  same.  But  that 
evening  fresh  symptoms  arose,  and  the  doctor 
feared  his  strength  would  not  be  equal  to  the 
additional  tax  on  it.  The  following  morning 
(my  birthday,  the  2ist)  he  said  the  vital  powers 
were  failing,  and  it  could  only  be  a  question  of 
hours.  He  was  not  suffering,  but  unconscious  ;  and 
we  remained  with  him  till  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  when,  with  a  slight  ineffectual  clearing  of 
his  throat,  he  breathed  his  last,  almost  imperceptibly. 
He  looked  just  as  we  had  so  often  seen  him  when 
asleep,  and  retained  his  ordinary  fresh  and  healthy- 
looking  colour.  That  was  the  last  view  we  had  of 
him  —  a  peaceful,  painless  ending  of  a  happy  and 
honoured  old  age,  with  his  wife  and  children  round 
him. 

What  his  life  was  the  preceding  pages  have 
displayed — as  far  as  possible  in  his  own  words.  I 
have  preferred  to  leave  what  he  did  write  as  he 
wrote  it,  only  supplementing  the  '  fishing  excursions 
and  travels,'  which  he  found  '  more  amusing  to  write 
about,'  by  a  fuller  account  of  his  professional  career, 


THE  END  353 

in  order  to  make  the  story  of  his  life  more  complete 
and,  as  I  hope,  more  interesting.  In  two  letters  he 
says  :  '  Of  course  you  will  not  expect  to  find  in 
them  any  careful  writing  or  elegant  English — they  are 
dotted  down  roughly  for  you  ....  to  recast  them  as 
you  may  wish.'  '  I  fear  they  are  sad  rubbish.  It  will 
be  for  you  to  look  over,  rearrange,  and  weave  an 
Addisonian  story  which  shall  be  pleasant  to  read.' 
To  a  certain  extent  I  have  departed  from  this 
advice.  The  story  may  not  be  '  Addisonian,'  but  it 
is  his  own.  So  I  prefer  to  give  it ;  and  so,  I  trust, 
the  reader  will  prefer  to  have  it. 

BRUGES,  December  27,  1890. 


[  354] 


APPENDIX  I. 


EVIDENCE  OF  C.  W.  COPE,  R.A.,  BEFORE  THE  ROYAL  ACADEMY 
COMMISSION,  1863. 

THIS  Commission  was  '  appointed  to  inquire  into  the  present 
position  of  the  Royal  Academy  in  relation  to  the  fine  arts,'  and 
consisted  of  Lords  Stanhope,  Hardinge,  and  Elcho,  Sir  E.  W. 
Head,  and  Messrs.  Stirling,  Seymour,  and  Reeve,  Lord  Stanhope 
being  the  Chairman. 

Charles  West  Cope,  Esq.,  R.A.,  examined. 

1731.  (Chairman) :  When  were  you  elected  an  Associate,  and 
when  were  you  elected  a  Royal  Academician  ? — I  was  elected  an 
Associate  in  1843,  and  an  Academician  in  1848. 

1732.  We  have  received  so  much  information  as  to  the  present 
state  of  the  Academy,  that  our  object  is  to  obtain  from  you  any 
suggestions  you  may  have  to  make  with  respect  to  any  improve- 
ment you  may  think  desirable.     As  to  the  system  of  teaching,  is 
that   satisfactory   in   your   opinion?  —  Not   in  all  respects.     All 
questions  as  to  improvements  in  the  schools  are  continually  being 
mooted    by    the   Academy    itself.     As    changes   are   constantly 
occurring  in  the  state  of  art  in   the  country,  so  corresponding 
changes   are   requisite  in   the  kind   of  instruction.      One   great 
reason  why  the  schools  are  less  fully  attended  than  they  might  be 
is  that  there  is  an  immense  amount  of  encouragement  for  small 
pictures  of  a  low  order,  and  the  students  do  not  attend  sufficiently ; 
they  prefer  staying  at  home  and  making  money  by  painting  little 
pictures  for  sale. 

1733.  You  do  not  think  that  there  is  any  considerable  defect  in 
the  present  system  of  teaching  ? — I  cannot  say  that  I  do.     One  or 
two  of  the  members  have  been  anxious  to  have  a  day  Life  School; 


APPENDIX  I.  355 


they  say  that  the  gas  and  the  heat  of  the  room  at  night  are  very 
deleterious,  and  that  it  would  be  better  to  have  the  clear  light  of 
day.  But  then  it  would  be  a  question  whether  you  could  get  any 
students  to  attend.  There  are  fewer  now  than  there  used  to  be, 
even  in  the  evening ;  and  from  the  circumstance  of  there  being 
such  a  great  encouragement  for  pictures  of  domestic  interest,  they 
have  less  interest  in  high  art. 

1734.  Do  you  apply  your  remarks  to  the  whole  of  the  schools? 
—Yes  ;  the  Academy  for  four  or  five  years  have  been  going  into 
this  question.     A  committee  was  appointed,  who  went  into  the 
question  most   carefully,   and    made    sundry   suggestions.     The 
schools    have    lately    been    put    on    a    new  footing,  and   every 
advantage  has  been  taken  of  the  recommendations  of  that  com- 
mittee,   but   they   have  not   had  time   to   work  yet.     The  new 
regulations  have  only  been  promulgated  this  year. 

1735.  You  think  that  the  governing  body  are  well  disposed  to 
consider  any  improvements  ? — Undoubtedly  ;  in  fact,  it  has  been 
their  most  anxious  desire  to  do  so.      Committee  after  committee 
have  been  appointed  with  that  very  object. 

1736.  Are  you  satisfied  with  the  drawings  of  the  students  which 
you  have  observed  within  the  last  few  years  ? — They  vary  very 
much  indeed.     There  is  at  all  times  only  a  very  small  percentage 
of  really  good  drawings,  and  a  great  many  very  indifferent  ones. 

1737.  Have  you  acted  yourself  as  a  visitor? — Yes  ;  last  month 
I  was  a  visitor. 

1738.  In  which  school? — In  the  Life  School. 

1739.  What  did  you  think  of  the  drawings  in  that  month? — 
They  were  fair  average  drawings  —  there  was  nothing  of  great 
excellence.     The  attendance  was  not  large,  but  the  students  were 
very  attentive  and  industrious.     The  smallness  of  the  attendance 
is  accounted  for  by  the  Council  thinking  it  necessary  to  be  more 
rigorous  in  the  admission  of  students  to  that  school,  and  making 
the  test  a  little  more  severe,  by  requiring  the  students  to  make  the 
drawings  in  a  limited  time,  so  that  fewer  can  get  admission  into 
that  school. 

1740.  It  has  been  given  in  evidence  before  us  that  three  or  four 
years  ago  you  brought  forward  a  motion  to  take  into  consideration 
the  rank  of  Associate  ? — Yes. 

1741.  The  object  at  that  time  was  to  increase  their  number. 
Has  it  ever  occurred  to  you  how  far  it  might  be  desirable  to 


356  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


continue  the  class  at  all  ? — That  is  one  of  the  questions  which  is 
also  mooted  within  the  walls  of  the  Academy.  There  is  a  party 
for  keeping  it  as  it  is,  another  party  for  doing  away  with  the  rank 
altogether,  and  another  for  increasing  the  number.  The  question 
has  been  under  discussion  for  some  time. 

1742.  We  have  had  evidence  to  the  effect  that  a  great  deal  of 
disappointment   and   soreness   is   caused   to  artists  by  the  pro- 
bationary stage,  as  it  is  called,  and  it  has  been  recommended  that 
the  system  of  Associates  should  cease  entirely,  and  that  there 
should  be  some  increase  in  the  number  of  Royal  Academicians. 
Will  you  state  your  own  views  on  that  point  ? — When  I  brought 
the  matter  forward  at  first,  I  thought  that  one  way  of  remedying 
the  evil  would  be  by  an  increase  in  the  number  of  Associates  ;  but 
the   more   I    have   looked  into  it,    the  more  convinced  I  have 
become  that  an  increase  in  their  number  is  not  the  most  advisable 
way  in  which  a  beneficial  change  could  be  made. 

1743.  If  any  well-considered  scheme  could   be  adopted  for 
dispensing    with    the    rank    of    Associates,    it   would   have   the 
advantage  of  your  individual  opinion  in  favour  of  it?— It  would; 
at  the  same  time,  it  is  a  subject  of  some  difficulty.     There  wou'd 
be  a  great  safeguard  in  an  Associate  list,  if  it  were  very  much 
limited,   say   to   eight   or   ten,   so   that   there  might   be  only  a 
sufficient  number  to  elect  from.    It  enables  the  body  to  refuse  full 
election  to  any  member  who  had  very  much  fallen  off  or  dis- 
appointed expectations.     A  limitation  in  the  number  would  have 
the  effect  of  preventing  any  long  delay.     Anyone  who  was  elected 
an  Associate,  supposing  that  there  were  only  half  a  dozen  or  ten 
Associates,  could  not  be  in  the  body  more  than  three  or  four 
years. 

1 744.  In  the  event  of  the  Associate  class  being  dispensed  with, 
have  you  any  practical  measure  to  suggest  with  reference  to  the 
present  Associates  ? — That  would   be  one  of  the  difficulties  in 
making  any  change  ;  it  would  be  a  painful  thing  to  make-a  change 
on  that  account.     No  doubt  the  majority  of  those  gentlemen  who 
are  now  Associates  would  be  elected  Royal  Academicians. 

1745.  Still,  it  does  not  follow  that  all  the   twenty  would   be 
deemed  perfectly  eligible  in  all  respects  ? — No. 

1746.  Therefore,  there  would  be  a  difficulty  on  the  one  hand  in 
electing  all  the  twenty  in  a  mass  as  members  of  the  Academy,  and 
on  the  other  hand  in  selecting  a  few  ? — There  would. 


APPENDIX  I.  357 


1747.  Should  you  be  inclined,  as  several  other  Royal  Acade- 
micians have  stated  that  they  would  be,  to  have  a  limitation  of 
the  privilege  which  now  enables  you  to  send  eight  pictures  to  the 
Academy  ? — Certainly. 

1748.  You  would  not  think  it  a  hardship  if  the  number  were 
reduced  to  four,  or  any  smaller  number  than  eight  ? — No. 

1 749.  Have  you  ever  pursued  your  studies  at  Rome  ? — Yes. 

1750.  Do   you   ascribe  great   importance   to   giving   a   young 
painter  the  opportunity  of  pursuing  his  studies  at  Rome  for  one 
or  two  years  ? — Undoubtedly ;  but  not  in  the  case  of  a  mere  boy. 
I  think  that  the  time  when  advantage  is  to  be  attained  by  travelling 
is  after  a  student  has  done  something  himself,  and  when  he  is  able 
to  appreciate  works  of  art. 

1751.  You  are  aware  how  limited  the  present  travelling  student- 
ships are  in  the  Academy.     Supposing  the  question  of  funds  to  be 
settled,  would  you  rejoice  to  see  a  considerable  extension  in  the 
travelling  studentships,  so  far  as  painters  are  concerned  ? — I  very 
much  doubt  if  I  should.     I  doubt  the  advantage  of  it.     Speaking 
of  those  who  are  going  through  the  course  of  the  Royal  Academy 
teaching,  I  think  that  when  they  feel  the  necessity  of  it  them- 
selves, it  would  be  an  advantage ;  but  it  would  be  absolute  ruin 
to  a  great  many  painters,  such  as  the  painters  of  domestic  sub- 
jects, the  kind  of  art  most  appreciated  in  this  country.     I  do  not 
think  that  they  would  derive  any  advantage  whatever  from  going 
to  Italy ;  but  I  think  it  is  indispensable  for  students  who  cultivate 
the  higher  branches  of  art. 

1752.  As  to  persons  desiring  to  pursue  those  branches  of  art, 
having  no  funds  of  their  own,  do  you  think  it  desirable  that,  if 
possible,   the   Academy   should   furnish   such   persons   with   the 
means  of  study  at  Rome  ? — Yes  ;  I  should  have  no  objection  to 
that,  if  they  gave  evidence  that  they  deserved  such  assistance. 
If  they  showed  the  necessary  amount  of  talent,  it  would  be  very 
desirable. 

1753.  If  evidence  of  the  requisite  merit  were  given  by  gaining  a 
gold  medal,  or  some  other  prize  appointed  for  that  purpose,  you 
would  think  it  an  excellent  thing  that  funds  should,  if  possible,  be 
supplied  for  such  a  purpose  ? — I  do  not  think  that  the  gaining  of 
a  gold  medal  is  a  sufficient  test ;  the  Academy  offer  those  medals, 
and  rather  than  break  faith  with  the  students,  they  give  them  when 
very  often  it  is  felt  that  it  would  be  better  to  withhold  them. 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


Many  have  obtained  them  who  have  scarcely  deserved  them, 
having  painted  what  was  only  a  little  better  than  a  bad  picture, 
and,  therefore,  their  having  obtained  gold  medals  would  not 
always  entitle  them  to  be  sent  abroad. 

1754.  According  to  the  present  system,  must  the  gold  medal 
be  awarded  to  someone?  Supposing  that  one  of  the  judges 
should  think  no  artist  competing  deserved  the  medal,  is  he  never- 
theless obliged  to  give  it?  —  No;  when  the  general  body  meet,  the 
first  question  after  having  inspected  the  pictures  is,  Shall  a  medal 
be  given  at  all  ?  That  is  decided  by  a  show  of  hands  ;  the  hands 
are  counted,  and  that  settles  the  question.  There  are  generally  a 
number  of  the  members  who  lean  to  the  indulgent  side,  unless  the 
picture  is  very  bad  indeed.  I  do  not  remember  the  gold  medal  to 
have  been  often  refused,  though  the  minor  medals  are  withheld 
frequently. 

I755-  Y°u  think  that  there  should  be  a  much  more  efficient 
test  ?  —  Yes  ;  I  think  that  a  man  should  have  practised  his  art  for 
some  years,  and  then  if  he  can  show  that  he  requires  some  assist- 
ance, it  would  be  a  very  good  thing  to  afford  him  the  means  of 
travelling. 

1756.  If  there  were  a  stringent   test,  and  if  assistance  were 
afforded  only  in  those  cases  in  which  the  artist  showed  that  he 
had  no  means  of  his  own,  you  would  very  much  approve  of  his 
pursuing  his  studies  in  Italy  ?  —  If  his  art  lay  in  that  direction. 

1757.  (Lord  Elcho):  Are   you   thoroughly   satisfied   with   the 
general  constitution  of  the  Academy,  in  respect  to  the  mode  of 
election  and  the  general  management  of  its  affairs  ?  —  I  think  the 
constitution  generally  a  good  one  as  to  the  management  of  its 
affairs.     As  to  the  mode  of  election,  I  think  that  it  might  be  a 
little  more  open.     I  believe  it  has  been  lately  made  more  open. 
It  was  necessary  some  years  ago  for  a  candidate  to  put  his  name 
down  annually.     I  think  that  any  man  of  eminence  should  be 
elected  at  once,  whether  he  has  put  down  his  name  or  not,  ascer- 
taining first  that  he  would  be  willing  to  belong  to  the  body.     Of 
course,  there  are  two  sides  to  the  question.     If  you  elect  a  man, 
you  must  know  that  he  would  be  willing  to  be  a  member,  and 
would  perform  the  duties  of  a  member  ;  but  if  he  do  not  wish  to 
be  a  member,  it  would  not  be  desirable  to  elect  him.     I  do  not 
see  any  great  hardship  in  the  present  system. 

1758.  The  rules  at  present  require  that  a  man  shall  put  down 


APPENDIX  I.  359 


his  name? — Yes;  but  he  may  put  it  down  by  proxy,  it  having 
been  ascertained  that  he  is  willing  to  belong  to  the  body. 

1759.  Still,  you  think  that  such  a  requirement  might  be  abolished 
advantageously? — I  see  no  difficulty  in  that  part  of  the  question, 
but  I  do  think  that  going  through  the  ordeal  of  the  Associates' 
list,  and  remaining  in  that  list  for  years,  is  a  difficulty  in  the 
Academy.     It  is  a  time  of  transition,  unpleasant  and  painful  to 
those  who  remain  for  a  long  period  in  it. 

1760.  With  reference  to  the  elections  themselves,  do  you  think 
that  the  best  men  are  always  elected  ? — No  ;  I  do  not  think  so 
always. 

1761.  Do  you  think  that  the  non-election  of  the  best  men,  which 
occasionally  takes  place,  is  owing  to  any  defect  in  the  mode  of 
election  ? — To  a  certain  extent,  I  think  it  is.     At  present,   the 
principle  is  sometimes  rather  a  selection.     A  list  is  placed  before 
the  members,  and  each  member  scratches  a  name  on  that  list. 
The  two  with  the  highest  number  of  scratches  are  put  together 

and  balloted  for,  so  that  you  select  the  best  of  these  two ;  but  if 
it  happens  that  each  of  those  candidates  has  a  party  who  are 
determined  to  bring  him  in,  then  the  independent  members  of 
the  Academy  can  merely  choose  between  them. 

1762.  You  think  that  in  that  respect,  as  regards  the  actual 
practical  method  of  electing,  there  might   be   considerable   im- 
provement ? — Not  very  much ;  it  is  done  with  the  greatest  care. 
It  only  happens  sometimes  that  one  or  two  of  the  candidates  may 
have  a  number  of  friends,  and  when  those  two  come  on  for  ballot, 
the  body  are  obliged  to  select  one  of  them.     It  does  not  follow 
that  the  one  selected  is  not  a  good  member,  but  he  may  not  be 
the  very  best  at  that  time  on  the  list,  and  the  best  candidate  is 
sure  of  election  at  a  future  time. 

1763.  Do  you  think,  with  regard  to  the  exhibitions,  that  the 
pictures  are  justly  chosen  and  hung  ? — Yes ;  I  think  so.     I  think 
it  is  conscientiously  done ;  and  a  proof  of  it  is,  that  exhibitors 
prefer  the  Academy  to  any  other  place  of  exhibition,  and  nothing 
could   be  more   fair   than  the   way   in   which  the  hanging  and 
selection    are    done.      The    only   improvement    to    suggest    in 
respect   of  the  exhibition  would  be,  that   members   should  not 
be  allowed  to  send  in  so  many  works  as  they  are  now  at  liberty 
to  do. 

1764.  Do   you   consider   it   desirable   that   the    Academy,   as 


360  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

originally  constituted,  should  consist  of  painters,  architects,  and 
sculptors  ? — Yes. 

1765.  And  that  the  Academy,  in  order  properly  to  represent 
what  it  professes  to  be,  should  represent  the  most  distinguished 
artists  in  those  branches  ? — Certainly. 

1766.  Assuming  that   as   a   basis,  would  you  be  inclined  to 
suggest  any  definite  proportion  which  those  representatives  should 
bear  to  each  other  in  the  body  itself,  taking  forty-two  as  the  num- 
ber of  members  ? — I  doubt  whether  a  definite  proportion  would 
be  desirable.     The  painters  are  more  numerous  than  the  architects 
and  sculptors,  and  there  is  more  art  in  painting  and  sculpture  than 
in  architecture  ;  some  architects  are  mere  builders. 

1767.  You  would  not  lay  down  any  rule? — There  has  been  an 
attempt  to  do  so,  which  failed. 

1768.  When  was  that  attempt  made  ? — Three  or  four  years  ago. 
It  was  to  this  extent — that  it  was  to  be  decided  from  which  class 
the  election  should  be  made  before  the  election  was  proceeded 
with.     Why,  I  do  not  know ;  but  I  remember  that  there  was  some 
practical  difficulty  in  the  proposed  change. 

1769.  (Chairman):  Was  it  actually  acted  upon? — No;  there 
has  been  a  wish   occasionally  expressed  on  the  subject,  and  a 
by-law  was  passed,  but  it  was  found  in  some  way  impracticable. 

1770.  (Lord  Elchd) :  What  is  your  opinion  with  reference  to  the 
election  of  water-colour  painters  to  the  honours  of  the  Academy  ? 
— I  would  admit  water-colour  painters  as  members,  certainly. 

1771.  At  present,  by  the  rules  of  the  Academy,  water-colour 
painters  qua  water-colour  painters  are  not  eligible  ? — I  am  not 
aware  that  they  are  excluded. 

1772.  Is  there  any  instance  that  you  know  of  in  which  a  water- 
colour  painter,  as  a  water-colour  painter  pure  and  simple,  has  been 
elected? — No;  and  I  do  not  think   that   they  would  desire   it. 
They  have  their  own  societies ;  and  they  are  perfectly  contented, 
I  believe,  to  remain  as  they  are. 

1773.  Are  you  aware  that  a  memorial  was  presented  to  Parlia- 
ment by  Lord  St.  Leonards  some  years  ago,  on  behalf  of  the 
water-colour  painters,  in  which  it  is  stated  that  by  the  rules  of 
the  Academy  at  present  they  are   not   eligible  as   water-colour 
painters  to  the  honours  of  the  Academy  ? — I  never  heard  of  it, 
and  I  am  not  aware  of  any  law  of  the  sort. 

1774.  Do  you  consider  the  Royal  Academy  at  present  to  be  a 


APPENDIX  I.  361 


public  or  a  private  institution  ? — Public  in  regard  to  its  educa- 
tional duties ;  private  in  regard  to  its  funds  and  management. 

1775.  Being  a  public  institution  for  the  promotion  of  fine  art, 
do  you  think  it  desirable  that  it  should  receive  a  more  definite 
recognition    than   it   has    hitherto    received,    say   by    its    being 
permanently  established  in  a  public   building,    and   that,  along 
with  such  recognition,  in  whatever  form,  there  should  be  certain 
responsibilities  attached  to  it? — I  should  have  supposed  that  the 
position  of  the  Academy  was  sufficiently  recognised  already,  and 
that  the  services  it  has  already  rendered  to  art  in  the  way  of 
education  deserve  both  recognition  and  a  permanent  building  of 
its  own. 

1776.  It  has  sometimes  been  held  by  members  of  the  Academy 
that  the  Academy  is  an  institution  attached  to  the  Crown,  and 
that  the  public  have  no  right  to  interfere  at  all  with  the  mode  in 
which  it  manages  its  affairs,  or  the  way  in  which  it  does  or  does 
not  promote  art  ? — The  position  of  the  Academy  is  an  anomalous 
position,  no  doubt,  having  been  founded  by  the  King,  and  being 
semi-public  and  semi-private. 

1777.  Are  you  of  opinion  that  public  opinion  ought  to  bear 
upon  the  Academy  in  the  management  of  its  concerns  ? — I  think 
it  should  do  so  to  a  certain  extent  only. 

1778.  Supposing    that   the   Academy   consisted   of    forty -two 
members,  as  at  present,  what  would  be  your  opinion  as  to  the 
desirability  or  otherwise  of  adding  a  limited  number,  say  eight 
non-professional  men,  persons  of  position  and  influence,  interested 
in  art,  and  giving  them  a  voice  in  the  management  of  the  con- 
cerns  of    the   Academy? — I    cannot   conceive  what   such   non- 
professional  members  would  do  ;  nearly  all  the  questions  which 
come  before  the  Academy  are  really  technical  questions. 

1779.  Do  you  call  the  election  of  members  of  the  Academy  a 
technical   question? — Yes,    I   do.      I   think  that   artists  on  the 
whole  are  the  best  judges  of  an  artist's  powers. 

1780.  Is  it  simply  the  opinion  of  artists  that  guides  the  Royal 
Academy  in  their  selection  of  members  ? — I  think  so. 

1781.  I  understood  you  to  say  that  public  opinion  did  influence 
the  Academy  in  its  proceedings,  one  of  the  most  important  of 
those  proceedings  being  the  election  of  outside  artists  into  their 
body  ? — Public  opinion  influences  the  Academy,  of  course,  be- 
cause  any   mistakes   committed    by   them   would   render   them 


362  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

amenable  to  hostile  criticism  ;  but  I  think  that  the  Academy 
should  rather  guide  an  ignorant  public  than  be  guided  by 
them. 

1782.  Or  in  the  election  of  members  ? — They  are  open  to  the 
abuse  of  the  newspapers,  but  I  do  not  think  that  public  opinion 
influences  the  Academy.     An  artist  is  able  to  estimate  at  their 
precise  value  the  works  of  his  professional  brethren  better  than 
any  layman  could  possibly  do.     i  think  that  this  is  the  case  in 
any  other  profession. 

1783.  Do   you   not  think  that  all  professions  are  apt  to  get 
cliqueish  and  narrow-minded,  and  blind  to  what  public  opinion 
says  out  of  doors  ? — I  think  so,  if  the  members  are  not  occasion- 
ally changed  ;  but  if,  in  an  institution,  you  have  a  constant  in- 
fusion of  new  blood,  the  new  members  operate  upon  the  old 
ones,  and  the  greater  the  current  through  the  body,  and  the  more 
fresh  the  blood,  the  better.     If  non-professional  men  were  intro- 
duced into  the  body,  they  would  be  subject  to  the  same  law,  and 
would  themselves  become  more  cliqueish  in  proportion  as  they 
were  less  informed.     If  laymen  are  introduced  into  the  Academy, 
you   may   also    have    laymen    introduced    into   the   College   of 
Surgeons,  for  instance,  or  into  the  Inns  of  Court. 

1784.  Take,  for  instance,  the  Medical  Council  of  the  United 
Kingdom  :  are  you  aware  that  non-professional  men  are  introduced 
into  it  for  the  very  reasons  which  I  have   suggested   as   being 
applicable  to  the  Royal  Academy  ? — No ;  I  am  not  aware  of  that. 

1785.  (Mr.  Stirling):  You  would  yourself  object  to  the  intro- 
duction of  such  members  as  Lord  Elcho  has  suggested  ? — It  is  a 
new  idea  to  me ;  I  cannot  conceive  what  they  would  do  in  the 
Academy.     I  think  that  they  would  find  it  uncommonly  dull ; 
nothing   can   be   heavier   than   many   of    the    meetings   of    the 
Academy. 

1786.  Do  you  think  that  they  would  not  only  not  assist,  but 
rather   be   in    the  way  of,  the  deliberations  of  the  professional 
members  ? — I  think  they  would.     That  would  depend  upon  the 
nature    of    the   question    before   the   Academy;    but   nineteen- 
twentieths   of    the   questions   before   the   Academy  are   matters 
almost  purely  technical,  such  as  the  best  means  of  educating  the 
students,  and  I  do  not  see  that  they  would  take  any  great  interest 
in  those  questions,  or  that  they  would  be  able  to  assist  in  their 
settlement.     Even  many  members  themselves,  landscape-painters, 


APPENDIX  I.  363 


if  called  upon,  have  scarcely  any  opinion  to  express  upon  those 
subjects — on  the  educational  portion,  at  all  events. 

1787.  Supposing  an  artist  to  have  attained  a  very  much  greater 
popularity  with  the  public  and  with  the  art  critics  outside  the 
profession  than  he  has  attained  among  artists,  do  you  think  it 
likely  that  the  presence  of  those  laymen  who  might,  perhaps,  be 
inclined  to  support  his  claims,  would  lead  the  professional  mem- 
bers to  promote  the  election  of  a  person  whom  they  themselves 
would   not  otherwise  have  chosen  ? — I  do  not  think  it  would. 
From  the  experience  of  some  fifteen  years  during  which  I  have 
been  a  member,  there  is  a  desire,  I  think,  among  the  majority  of 
the  members  in  the  Academy,  to  get  the  very  best  men  they  can  ; 
the  Academy  have  no  other  interest  than  to  elect  talent  wherever 
they  find  it.     There  are  always  men  in  every  body  who  become 
antiquated,  and  they  would  remain  so  still;  but  there  are  also 
always  younger  members  constantly  being  added,  who  invariably 
support  the  younger  talent.     As  to   the   popularity  of  an  artist 
with  the  public  and  art  critics,   if  he  is  not  liked  by  the  pro- 
fessional judges,  I  much  doubt  his  real  ability. 

1788.  (Lord  Elcho):   Notwithstanding  that  desire  to  get  the 
best  men,  you  have  told  us  that,  in  your  opinion,  in  the  way  in 
which  the  system  now  works,  the  best  men  are  sometimes  not 
elected  ? — It  is  not  often  so. 

1789.  (Mr.  Stirling):  Do  you  think  that  an  infusion  of  non- 
professional  blood  would  increase  or  diminish  the  chance  of  un- 
fortunate election  ? — I  have  not  given  much  consideration  to  the 
question,  but  it  appears  to  me  that  it  would  increase  it.     A  little 
pressure  might  be  exerted,  and  there  might  be  more  favouritism 
than  there  is  now.     The  great  difficulty  is  to  prevent  nepotism. 

1790.  (Lord  Elcho):  Would  that  pressure  and  influence  exist 
exactly  in  the  ratio  that  those  who  exercised  it  represented,  or  did 
not  represent,  public  opinion  outside  the  walls  of  the  Academy 
with   reference   to   the  merits  of   artists? — I  do  not  think  that 
public  opinion  should  influence  the  Academy  in  their  elections.    I 
think  that  each  member  should  give  his  vote  honestly  and  con- 
scientiously, without  minding  at  all  what  other  people  think,  and 
I  think  that  any  lay  pressure  should  not  be  tolerated. 

1791.  (Mr.  Stirling) :  Do  you  entertain  a  clear  idea  as  to  what 
a  representation  of  public  opinion  means  in  the  view  suggested  ? 
Lord   Elcho   wishes    to    have   public   opinion,   non-professional 


364  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


opinion,  represented  in  the  Academy.  Does  any  mode  occur 
to  you  by  which  it  would  be  possible  to  obtain  a  fair  representa- 
tion of  that  public  opinion?— I  do  not  see  any  mode,  nor  do  I 
think  it  would  be  desirable. 

1792.  If  there  were  a  selection  by  the  Crown  of  eight  gentle- 
men, as  suggested  by  Lord  Elcho,  would  you  be  prepared  to 
admit   that  they  would  probably  be  a  representation  of  public 
opinion,  and  be  acknowledged  by  the  writers  on  art  and  the  critics 
of  the  public  press  to  be  a  fair  representation  of  public  opinion  ? 
— I  do  not  think  that  they  would  be  so  acknowledged  at  all,  and 
I  think  that  the  profession  would  immediately  lose  their  confi- 
dence in  the  Royal  Academy  as  a  body,  if  their  decisions  were 
influenced  by  non-professional  pressure.     I  believe  that  on  the 
whole  the  Academy,  with  all  its  drawbacks,  is  now  looked  upon 
as  being  desirous  and  anxious  to  do  its  best.     The  opinion  of 
artists  would  not  be  influenced  by  the  opinion  of  non-professional 
men.      Supposing    that   A,    B,   and   C   were   brought   into   the 
Academy  by  the  pressure  of  certain  lay  members,  it  would  give 
great  dissatisfaction  to  the  artistic  body. 

1793.  (Lord  Elcho) :  Why  ? — Because  the  judgment  of  the  best 
painters,  sculptors,  and  architects  in  the  country  would  be  felt  to 
have  been  unfairly  influenced  by  being  made  subservient  to  non- 
professional  pressure. 

1794.  From  incompetent  men  being  elected  ? — Yes. 

1795.  Do   you  believe  that  none  but  a  professional  artist  is 
capable  of  giving  a  sound  opinion  upon  a  matter  of  art  ? — Yes,  a 
very  sound  one,  I  do ;  just  as  I  should  suppose  that  the  opinion 
of  Coleridge  or  Milton  on  the  merits  of  a  poet  would  be  more 
valuable  than  that  of  the  mere  readers  and  admirers  of  that  poet's 
writings. 

1796.  Is  it  for  artists  solely,  and  their  praise  and  good  opinion, 
that  painters  paint  and  exhibit  upon  the  walls  of  the  Academy  ? — - 
Certainly  not. 

1797.  In  so  far  as  preparing  pictures  for  exhibition  goes,  artists 
do  consider  the  opinion  of  non-professional  men  to  be  of  some 
value,  inasmuch  as  they  consult  their  tastes  in  the  selection  of 
their  subjects,  and  paint  for  their  approval. — In  that  way  public 
opinion   has   an  effect   upon  art.      And  that   is   a   proper  and 
legitimate  way. 

1798.  If  the  public,  this  non-professional  element,  are  capable 


APPENDIX  I.  365 


of  judging  pictures  upon  a  wall,  are  they  not  capable  of  judging 
whether  the  merits  of  an  artist  are  sufficient  to  entitle  him  to  a 
place  in  the  Royal  Academy  or  not? — I  think  that  the  two  things 
are  essentially  different.  A  person  who  judges  of  paintings  on  a 
wall  judges  of  some  work  which,  perhaps,  he  himself  has  given  a 
commission  for,  and  his  influence  is  exercised  over  that  artist  whom 
he  has  asked  to  paint  the  picture  ;  but  it  is  a  distinct  thing  to 
suppose  that  therefore  that  individual  patron  of  that  painter  would 
have  an  unlimited  knowledge  of  art,  co  that  he  should  influence 
the  elections  into  the  body.  I  think  that  the  two  things  are 
entirely  distinct.  I  think  that  the  proper  influence  on  artists  on 
the  part  of  the  non-professional  body  is  in  the  way  of  the  approval 
and  encouragement  which  they  meet  with  outside  the  Academy. 
An  artist,  when  he  exhibits  in  the  Academy,  does  not  exhibit  to 
please  its  members,  but  to  please  some  part  of  the  public  outside, 
and  in  that  way  his  works  are  influenced.  The  majority  of  pictures 
on  commission  now  are  painted  for  merchants  in  Lancashire. 
They  like  a  particular  class  of  art,  and  they  select  the  painter 
whom  they  most  approve  of,  and  with  whose  works  they  have  the 
greatest  sympathy  :  but  it  does  not  follow  that  therefore  they 
would  be  fit  to  be  lay  members  of  the  Academy  because  they 
encourage  art,  and  are  very  much  interested  in  art. 

1799.  Your  objection  to  this  non-professional  element,  so  far 
as  the  election  of  artists  goes,  rests  upon  the  fact  that  commissions 
are  given  for  special   painting  on  special  subjects.     There  are 
many  works  on  the  walls  of  the  Academy  which  have  been  so 
specially  commissioned.     There  is  no  such   thing,  is  there,  as 
catholicity  of  art  on  the  part  of  painters  or  of  the  patrons  of  art ; 
that  is  to  say,  that  it  is  seldom  that  works  are  painted  or  ordered 
without  having  a  reference  to  some  special  technical  detail  either 
of  subject  or  of  treatment  ? — Very  seldom  indeed. 

1 800.  Do  you  think  that  a  healthy  state  of  art  ? — No  ;  but  I 
think  that  it  is  owing  to  a  want  of  employment  of  a  higher  order 
of  subject,  such  as  the  decoration  of  churches  or  other  public 
buildings.     The  Italians  were  all  influenced  by  high  feeling ;  in 
fact  they  were  considered,  and  they  considered  themselves,  as  in 
some  degree  spreading  religion.     That  is  it  which  promotes  high 
art.     At  present  there  is  nothing  of  the  sort ;  but  the  Academy  is 
not  to  blame  for  that. 

1 80 1.  What  you  have  just  said  rather  goes  against  exhibitions 


366  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

altogether,  as  far  as  their  being  calculated  to  promote  high  art  is 
concerned  ? — Yes ;  very  likely  they  may  have  no  good  effect  in 
that  respect. 

1802.  Do  you  not  think  that  you  would  find  cultivated  taste 
and  love  of  art  in  those  eight  gentlemen,  large  views  of  art  and 
sufficient  catholicity  in  their  taste  to  lead  them  not  to  look  to 
those  small  details  which  you  have  referred  to — the  specialities  of 
art — but  to  take  a  general  broad  view  of  the  merits  of  an  artist's 
works  ? — There  are  numbers  of  such  men  ;  but  the  question  is, 
what  would  they  do  in  the  Academy,  what  function  would  they 
exercise  ?     For  instance,  when  an  election  came  on,  is  it  proposed 
that  they  should  agree  among  themselves  who  was  the  fittest  man  ? 
They  might  disagree  among  themselves,  and  if  they  really  were 
sincere  and  true  judges  they  would  disagree.     If  they  were  other- 
wise, it  would  be  a  clique,  which  would  ruin  the  institution,  or  any 
institution.     The   healthiness  of  opinion  in  any  body  depends 
upon  each  man  having  his  own  opinion.     Then  you  get  upon 
the  whole  a  fair  decision  ;  but  if  you  have  any  clique  acting 
together,  there  is  an  end  of  the  independence  of  the  body,  and 
the  body  will  become  contemptible. 

1803.  (Viscount  Hardinge):  How  do  you  suppose  that  artists 
are  to  ascertain  what  public  opinion  really  is  as  to  the  merits  of 
their  works  ;  is  it  by  reading  art-criticisms  ? — Not  at  all.     I  do 
not  think  that  they  care  very  much  about  public  opinion,  which 
is  often  mere  fashion  ;  they  know  who  on  the  whole  is  the  best 
man  :  every  artist  has  an  exact  appreciation  of  the  artistic  merit 
of  his  contemporaries. 

1804.  You  stated  before  that  the  Royal  Academy  ought  to  be 
influenced  by  public  opinion  ? — Each  individual  member  is  prob- 
ably influenced  by  public  opinion  as  to  the  choice  of  subjects  he 
may  paint ;  but  I  think  that  the  Royal  Academy  should  rather 
lead  public  opinion  than  be  led  by  it. 

1805.  How  are  they  to  get  at  what  the  verdict  of  public  opinion 
is  ? — Public  opinion  is  so  entirely  a  thing  of  yesterday  or  to-day 
that  it  is  not  to  be  depended  upon.     Public  opinion  now  is  quite 
another  public  opinion  from  what  it  would  have  been  in  the  time 
of  Raffaelle. 

1806.  That  being  so,  you  think  that  the  Academy  ought  not  to 
be  influenced  by  it  ? — I  think  it  should  not,  except  in  the  selec- 
tion and  hanging  of  pictures.     Public  opinion  in  the  present  day, 


APPENDIX  I.  367 


I  think,  is  hard  to  define,  and  nothing  could  be  a  greater  mistake 
than  for  the  Royal  Academy  to  be  influenced  by  the  writers  in 
the  press.  If  you  estimate  public  opinion  by  what  is  written  in 
newspapers,  nothing  can  be  more  uncertain  and  often  ignorant. 
A  man  may  be  written  up  into  a  position  of  eminence,  and 
thought  to  be  a  genius  by  the  public  who  read  those  panegyrics, 
but  is  the  Academy  therefore  to  elect  that  man  ? 

1807.  The  question  arises  whether  the  infusion  of  a  lay  element 
might  not  give  to  the  council  of  the  Academy  a  certain  amount  of 
support  by  expressing  what  public  opinion  really  is,  and  not  what 
it  seems  to  be,  as  set  forth  in  the  journals  which  you  have  alluded 
to  ? — The  lay  members,  it  seems  to  me,  would  really  be  greatly 
influenced  by  what  they  read  and  see  in  those  journals. 

1808.  Do  you  think  that  eminent  practical  men  and  lovers  of 
art  are  men  who  would  be  influenced  by  what  they  might  read  in 
art  journals  such  as  you  allude  to  ? — No  ;  eminent  practical  men 
would  not ;  but  a  taste  for  looking  at  and  talking  about  pictures 
does  not  constitute  competency.     There  would  be  great  difficulty 
in  selecting  them. 

1809.  They  might  either  be  nominated  by  the  Crown  or  be 
elected  by  the  Royal  Academy  ;  might  not  the  Royal  Academy 
possibly  know  who  were  competent  among  that  class  of  men  to 
fill  such  an  office  ? — I  doubt  whether  the  members  of  the  Royal 
Academy  would  feel  any  confidence  in  any  such  tribunal  at  all. 

1810.  As  to  the  hanging  of  the  pictures,  we  have  it  in  evidence 
that  the  pictures  are  hung  as  fairly  as  the  space  of  the  Royal 
Academy  will  allow.     Would  it  be  desirable,  do  you  think,  that 
artists  should  have  the  option  of  having  their  pictures  not  hung 
at  all,  rather  than  having  them  hung  where  they  cannot  be  seen  ; 
for  instance,  that  a  letter  should  be  written  to  the  artist  telling 
him  that  the  size  of  his  picture  renders  it  difficult  to  hang  it  in  a 
good  place? — I  think  that  is  done.     I  have  known  of  letters 
having  been  written  to  artists,  saying  that  there  was  not  room  for 
their  pictures,  and  asking  whether  they  would  wish  to  withdraw 
them. 

1811.  You  give  them  the  option  of  having  their  pictures  hung 
in  a  bad  place? — I  think  it  is  done  occasionally.     I  have  an 
impression  that  the  secretary  has  that  sort  of  thing  to  do.     With 
reference  *io  the  hanging,  there  is  one  thing  in  which  I  do  think 
the  sooner  there  is  a  change  the  better.     There  is  a  regulation  at 


368  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

present  that  no  picture  larger  than  kit-cat  size,  with  figures  of  the 
size  of  life,  shall  be  hung  below  the  line.  I  think  that  is  a  very 
great  mistake.  It  would  exclude  from  below  the  line  such  a 
picture  as  Gallait's  Egmont.  That  regulation  will,  I  hope,  be 
changed,  and  such  a  change  would  be  a  means  of  encouraging 
a  larger  kind  of  art  in  the  country  than  now  exists.  No  one 
would  put  his  whole  strength  out  upon  a  finished  picture  of 
expression  to  be  placed  above  the  line. 

1812.  You  stated  that  you  are  constantly  getting  an  infusion  of 
new  blood  into  the  Academy.     Does  it  not  sometimes  happen 
that  Associates  are  elected  into  the  body  of  Academicians  from 
kindly  feelings  in  consideration  of  their  names  having  been  a  very 
long  time  on  the  list? — I  think  that  feeling  may  occasionally 
influence  one  or  two  votes,  but  not  generally. 

1813.  Not  materially? — Not  materially.     There  is  always  diffi- 
culty in  an  election. 

1814.  Do  you  not  think  that  the  Royal  Academy  ought  to  be 
in  such  a  position  as  to  be  able  to  place  its  hand  upon  any  very 
eminent  man  who  gave  evidence  of  consummate  merit,  and  that 
such  a  man  should  be  at  once  elected  a  member  of  the  Royal 
Academy  without  any  putting  down  of  names  ? — I  think  so.     I 
think  that  the  putting  down  of  names  is  a  mistake.     But  yet  on 
the  whole  the  conclusion  which  one  comes  to  after  looking  at  the 
names  of  the  distinguished  artists  who  are  not  members  of  the 
Academy  is,  that  there  are  very  few  indeed. 

1815.  Still  there  are  a  few? — Very  few.     We  all  think  of  Mr. 
Watts,    of  course.     Mr.   Watts   would   no   doubt    have   been   a 
member  if  he  had  put  his  name  down,  but  the  Academy  very 
properly   requires    some    expressed   wish   on    the    part    of    the 
candidates. 

1816.  That  might  be  ascertained  privately,  might  it  not? — Yes, 
certainly ;  but  with  some  very  few  exceptions  there  are  scarcely 
any  artists  of  eminence  who  are  not  in  the  Academy. 

1817.  (Mr.    Reeve}  :    Is   not    Mr.    Noel    Paton   an   artist   of 
eminence  ? — Certainly,  but  he  is,  comparatively,  a  young  exhibitor. 

1818.  (Viscount  Hardinge):   Is  his  being  a  young  man  any 
reason  why  he  should  not  be  elected  ? — Certainly  not,  but  I  mean 
that  he  has  not  been  so  long  before  the  public  as  some  other 
candidates. 

1819.  (Lord  Elcho) :  What  should  you  consider  as  the  age  of  a 


APPENDIX  I.  369 


man's  majority  in  art  ?— There  can  be  no  rule,  but  if  the  election 
to  associateship  is  a  test  of  majority,  then  I  believe  the  average 
age  is  about  fifty. 

1820.  Is  not  Mr.  Noel  Paton  an  older  man  than  Mr.  Millais? 
— I  do  not  know.    I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  a  personal  acquaint- 
ance with  him. 

1821.  (Mr,  Reeve)-.  You  mentioned  that  sometimes  the  result 
of  the  competition  for  the  gold  medals  was  not  satisfactory  on  the 
part  of  the  students  of  the  Academy.     Might  not  that  be  obviated 
to  a  certain  extent  by  throwing  open  gold  medals  of  the  Academy 
to  the  general  competition  of  the  country  ? — Yes,  I  think  so.     I 
think  that  is  not  a  bad  suggestion. 

1822.  Would   not   that   tend   to   stimulate   the  pupils  of  the 
Academy  by  competition  with  all  the  schools  of  design  throughout 
the  country  ? — I  see  no  objection  to  that. 

1823.  Might  not  some  further  advantage  be  gained  by  inviting 
the  public,  as  you  do  on  other  occasions,  to  be  present  at  the 
distribution    of   prizes,   and    to  see   the   works  ?  —  I    think   so, 
certainly. 

1824.  I  infer  from  what  you  have  said  that  you  think  there  is 
more  influence  and  favour  and  personal  friendship  in  the  election 
of  members  than  in  the  hanging  of  pictures,  which  you  said  you 
thought  was  done  with  extreme  impartiality  ? — As  long  as  we  are 
human  beings  there  must  be  such  influence,  and  there  may  also 
'be  some  professional  rivalry. 

1825.  If  there  were  a  certain  fraction  of  the  Academy  who  were 
non-professional  men,  so  far  as  they  were  concerned,  that  pro- 
fessional rivalry  which  you  spoke  of  would  not  exist,  would  it  ? — I 
think   it   might  just  as  much.      The  non-professional  members 
might  have  some  friends  whom  they  would  attempt  to  bring  in,  just 
as  much  as  the  Academicians. 

1826.  (Lord  Elcho):  That  would  not  be  professional  rivalry  ? — 
But  it  would  be  prejudice  in  favour  of  some  friend  or  supposed 
genius. 

1827.  (Mr.  Reeve}:  Would  you  agree  to  this,   that  the  great 
object  of  such  a  body  as  the  Academy  ought  to  be  that  the  power 
vested  in  their  hands  should  be  exercised  as  much  as  possible  on 
public  and  general  grounds,  and  as  little  as  possible  on  private 
and  personal  grounds  ? — Most  undoubtedly. 

1828.  By  the  rules  of  the  Academy  it  is  provided  that  'There 

24 


370  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

shall  be  a  Chaplain  of  high  rank  in  the  Church.  There  shall  be 
a  Professor  of  Ancient  History,  a  Professor  of  Ancient  Literature, 
an  Antiquary,  and  a  Secretary  for  Foreign  Correspondence — men 
of  distinguished  reputation.'  Do  these  persons  perform  any 
duties  whatever? — I  believe  that  the  Chaplain  says  grace  at  the 
dinner — nothing  more. 

1829.  Might  it  not  be  desirable  that  those  gentlemen,  men  of 
distinguished  reputation,  who  are  selected  by  the  Academy,  should 
have  either  duties   or  power  attached   to   their  office  in  those 
matters  with  which  they  would,  as  men  of  the  world  and  men  of 
eminence,  be  conversant  ?     For  instance,   that  they  should  give 
lectures,  that  they  should  have  votes  in  the  general  assembly,  and 
be  eligible  to  the  Council  ? — There  I  think  you  would  be  going 
beyond  a  limit  which  I  think  it  is  necessary  to  preserve. 

1830.  You  would  not  give  them  the  privileges  and  the  duties  of 
the  other  members  of  the  Academy  ? — I  should  consider  them 
only  honorary  members.     Any  opinion  or  advice  on  a  subject  in 
which  they  were .  eminent  would   be  of  course   most  gratefully 
received,  but  still,  on  questions  of  art  and  on  elections,   their 
opinions  would  not  be  so  valuable.      I  cannot  conceive  that  the 
Chaplain's  opinion,  for  instance,  on  the  question  whether  A  or  B 
should  have  a  medal  would  be  of  any  great  value. 

1831.  You  would   prefer    that    those   honorary  memberships 
should    remain    pure    sinecures  ? — Yes ;    but    if    the    honorary 
members  chose  to  deliver  lectures  on  subjects  on  which  they  were 
authorities,  I  think  the  Academy  would  feel  most  grateful. 

1832.  Admitting  that  the  opinions  of  those  gentlemen  would 
not   be   of  much   value   on   the  distribution  of  medals  or  the 
hanging  of  pictures,  are  there  not  many  questions  connected  with 
the  fine  arts  in  this  country  and  with  the  government  of  the 
Academy  in  which  the  opinion  of  such  men  might  be  of  use  ? 
Might  not  those  persons  act  as  a  link  between  the  professional 
members  of  the  Academy  and  the  State  ? — I  do  not  think  that 
they  would.     I  think  that  nearly  every  lay  member  of  a  body 
would  have  some  professional  friend  of  whose  opinion  he  would 
be  really  only  the  reflection. 

1833.  Do  you  conceive  that  five  gentlemen  of  distinguished 
reputation  could  not  be  found  who  would  exercise  this  public 
trust  with  singleness  of  purpose  and  solely  in  view  of  the  interests 
of  art,  without  private  motives  ? — I  do  not  doubt  their  singleness 


APPENDIX  I.  37I 


of  purpose  or  honourable  intentions  in  the  least  degree,  but  in 
proportion  as  they  were  less  informed  than  artists,  they  would  be 
liable  to  erroneous  judgments,  and  I  fear  their  appointment  would 
lead  to  favouritism. 

1834.  Might  not  that  be  obviated  by  their  being  nominated  by 
the  Crown  ? — There  would  be  great  difficulty  then  as  to  who 
should  advise  the  Crown.     The  Crown  ought  to  be  advised  upon 
such  a  point  by  the  artistic  body. 

1835.  (Chairman):    Are   you   afraid   that    political    influence 
would  step  in  ? — Not  at  all.     I  fear  that  lay  members  would  be 
influenced  by  the  prevailing  fashion  of  the  time. 

1836.  (Lord  Elc/io) :    There   have   been   many    Commissions 
nominated  for  the  purpose  of  judging  of  works  sent  in  for  public 
competition.     You   yourself  were   one   of  the  prizemen  at   the 
exhibitions  of  cartoons  in  Westminster  Hall,  were  you  not? — Yes. 

1837.  Those  works  were  judged  of  by  a  Commission  ? — Yes,  a 
mixed  Commission. 

1838.  There  have  been  several  mixed  Commissions,  have  there 
not,  for  similar  purposes? — I  am  not  aware  of  the  number  of 
them. 

1839.  For  instance,  the  Commission  which  sat  on  the  designs 
for  the  Foreign  Office  ;  in  short,  there  have  been  various  Com- 
missions on  matters  of  art.     How  were  they  chosen — they  were 
nominated  by  the  Crown,  were  they  not  ? — I  do  not  know. 

t84<D.  Have  those  Commissions,  do  you  think,  on  the  whole, 
worked  satisfactorily  ? — Yes  ;  I  think  on  the  whole  they  have. 

1841.  Do  you  think  that  their  judgment  on  the  matters  referred 
to  them  was  a  fair  and  sound  judgment  ? — I  am  not  prepared  to 
say  that  I  do  in  every  particular. 

1842.  Take  the    first   Commission   to   which    I    referred,   the 
Commission  in  which  I  think  you  got  a  premium.     Do  you  think 
that  the  judgment  of  that  Commission  was  sound  ? — I  think  so, 
generally ;  but  there  may  have  been  exceptions.      It  must  be  also 
borne  in  mind  that  the  late  chairman  of  that  Commission  was  a 
really  practical  artist,  and  that  the  secretary  is  a  most  accomplished 
artist. 

1843.  Do   you   think   that   the  judgment   would    have    been 
sounder  upon  that  occasion  if  the  Commission  had  been  com- 
posed solely  of  members  of  the  Royal  Academy  ? — No,  perhaps 
not.     I  think  it  would  have  been  as  sound. 


372  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

1844.  (Sir  E.  Head] :  The  Academy,  in  your  opinion,  ought 
to  contain  within  itself  the  best  painters,  architects,  and  sculptors 
in  the  kingdom  ? — Yes. 

1845.  With  a  view  to  the  application  of  the   aits   to  public 
monuments   and   to   the   decoration    of    public    buildings,    and 
matters   which   the   Government   has  to   carry   out,   is   it   most 
desirable,   in  your  judgment,  that  the  opinion  of  the  Academy, 
consisting  of  the  best  painters,  architects,  and  sculptors,  should  be 
brought  as  much  as  possible  to  tell  upon  those  who  are  charged 
with  the  execution  of  those  works  ? — Yes,  I  think  it  should  be. 

1846.  Would  not  that  opinion  be  much  more  likely  to  be  made 
to   tell   upon   the   Government,    and   upon  those  in  whom  the 
discretion  was  vested,  if  a  certain  number  of  men  of  position 
moving  in  the  world,  perhaps  connected  with  the  Government 
themselves,  were  in  constant  contact  with  the   members  of  the 
Academy  and  virtually  a  part  of  the  body  ? — I  think  that  end 
would  be  gained  perfectly  without  their  being  actual  members  of 
the  body.     I  think  that  by  following  the  precedent  which  has 
been  mentioned,  namely,  selecting  the  most  fit  members  out  of 
that  body,  who  themselves  had  no  self-interest  to  serve,  to  be 
united  with  lay  members  of  a  Commission,  you  would  get  perhaps 
a  still  better  opinion,  and  it  would  be  less  likely  that  there  would 
be  any  favouritism  or  professional  rivalry  to  interfere  with  their 
judgment. 

1847.  You  are  of  opinion  that  a  standing  mixed  Commission, 
consisting  partly  of  professional  men  and  partly  of  non-professional 
men,  should  be  at  the  command  of  the  Government,  or  should  be 
consulted  upon  matters  of  art  ? — I  think  so. 

1848.  Rather  than  that  those  matters  of  art  should  be  acted 
upon  by  the  direct  influence  of  the  Academy,  you  think  that  they 
should  be  assisted  through  this  non  -  professional  medium? — I 
think  that,  upon  the  whole,  that  would  be  better.     I  think  that 
there  are  a  great  many  objections  to  the  Academy  alone  doing  it. 
They  would  be  in  a  most  painful  position :  their  decision  might 
not  be  always  satisfactory,  even  to  the  members  themselves.    The 
majority  would,  of  course,  carry  the  vote,  but  there  might  be  so 
large  a  minority  that  the  result  might  not  be  satisfactory  to  the 
body    at    large,  and   perhaps   unsatisfactory   to   the   country,    a 
responsibility  which  it  would  be  scarcely  fair  to  put  upon  them  ; 
besides  which,  many  of  the  members  of  the  Academy  might  be 


APPENDIX  I. 


373 


candidates  for  public  works  themselves,  and  they  would,  there- 
fore, not  be  eligible.  I  think  that  for  such  purposes  a  mixed 
Commission  such  as  you  have  mentioned  would  be  better. 

1849.  Do  you  not  think  that  in  such  a  mixed  Commission  as 
that,  to  which    questions   of  professional   excellence   would   be 
submitted,  the   same   objection   exists   to   the   non  -  professional 
element  as  would  exist  to  the  admission  of  the  Academy  itself? — 
I   think  it  would  to  a  certain  extent;    but   inasmuch   as   it  is 
possible  that  the  non -professional  members  might  be  influenced 
in  some  degree  by  the  professional  opinions,  and  as  their  united 
opinion  might  have  great  weight  with  the  public,  there  would  be 
less  objection. 

1850.  Having  regard  not  to  the  weight  with  the  public,  but  to 
the  intrinsic  excellence  of  the  advice  given,  you  think  that  it 
would  be  better  if  such  a  Commission  consisted  of  artists  alone  ? 
— I  think  that  a  judicious  selection  of  impartial  and  disinterested 
members  of  the  Royal  Academy  would  give  the  soundest  opinion 
the  country  can  produce. 

1851.  You  think  that  such  a  select  or  intermediate  body  would 
be  or  might  be  consulted  upon  matters  of  public  taste,  and  would 
be  more  valuable,  so  far  as  its  opinion  itself  was  concerned,  if 
it  consisted  wholly  of  artists,  than  if  it  included  the  non-profes- 
sional element  also  ? — I  think  it  would  if  the  selection  were  good  ; 
it  must  depend  upon  the  choice  made  out  of  the  body. 

1852.  Who  is  to  make  the  selection  of  the  professional  men? 
the  same  difficulty  meets  you  there,  does  it  not,  as  there  is  with 
regard  to  the  selection  of  non-professional  men  ? — The  selection 
would  be,  perhaps,  better  made  by  non-professionals.     I  think 
that  the  opinion  of  certain  members  of  the  Royal  Academy  on 
any  question  of  art  would  be  invaluable ;  but  I  think  that  the 
opinion  of  some  members  of  that  body,  from  their  not  having 
given  certain  subjects  very  much  attention,  would  not  be  worth 
having,  nor  would  they  wish  to  give  it ;  but  when  you  can  get  a 
man  perfectly  disinterested  who  has  practised  art,  and  who  has 
catholic  feelings  in  art,  that  man's  opinion  is  worth  having,  and 
is  the  most  valuable  opinion  upon  the  whole  that  you  can  have. 

1853.  Are  you  speaking  of  professional  men? — Yes,  there  are 
such  men  in  the  Academy. 

1854.  You  do  not  think  it  desirable  that  the  direct  opinion  or 
judgment  of  the  Academy  should  be  brought  to  bear  upon  those 


374  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

subjects  without  the  intervention  of  some  other  body  ? — With 
regard  to  the  public,  it  would  be  better  to  have  that  non-pro- 
fessional element  also. 

1855.  I  do  not  exactly  understand  why  the  non-professional 
element  would  be  beneficial  in  the  intermediate  body,  and  hurtful 
in  the  Academy? — I  think  that  the  questions  in  the  Academy 
refer  much  more  to  the  management  of  the  institution  itself,  and, 
in  fact,  are  matters  of  detail  which  only  artists  of  practical  experi- 
ence are  competent  to  discuss. 

1856.  Do  you  not   think  that,  with   a  selection  of  non-pro- 
fessional persons,   such  as   Lord  Elcho  was  speaking  of,   some 
candidates  might  be  put  in  of  moderation  of  feeling  and  gentle- 
manly character  sufficient  to  guard  against  their  vexatious  inter- 
ference with  purely  technical  details  ?     Do  you  think  that  there 
would  be  any  inclination  on  the  part  of  persons  of  that  kind  to 
interfere  in  purely  professional  subjects  in  a  manner  which  would 
either  inspire  mistrust,  or  would  cross  the  feelings  and  wishes  of 
the  Academicians  and  artists  ? — I  do  not  think  that  there  would. 
I  cannot  conceive  that  they  would  have  any  such  object  or  feel- 
ing ;  at  the  same  time  I  think  that  the  judgment  of  the  Academy 
would  be  considered  a  more  competent  tribunal  by  the  outside 
artists,  on  questions  of  excellence,  than  if  their  judgment  were 
watered  by  non-professional  influence. 

1857.  (Mr.  Reeve)  :  The  members  of  the  Academy,  being  pro- 
fessional men,  contribute  to  the  funds  of  the  Academy  by  exhibit- 
ing.     If  non-professional  men   were   virtually  members   of  the 
Academy,  there  would  be  this  distinction  between  them  and  the 
professional   men,  that  they   would   contribute   nothing   to   the 
funds.     Has  that  distinction  anything  to  do  with  your  objection 

•  to  non-professional  men  ? — Not  the  least. 

1858.  I  believe  you  are  a  trustee  of  the  funds  of  the  Academy  ? 
—Yes. 

1859.  Did  you  execute  any  instrument  on  becoming  a  trustee? 
—No. 

(The  witness  withdrew?) 


[375] 


APPENDIX  II. 

CATALOGUE  OF  PICTURES  PAINTED  BY  C.  W.  COPE.* 

Date  of 
Painting. 

1832.          i.  Small  picture  of  a  girl. 

2.  The    Golden   Age  :     kit-cat,    exhibited    at   Royal 

Academy ;  not  sold. 

3.  Portrait  of  G.  Hallam,  two  years  old  :  painted  for 

Geo.  Hallam,  Esq.  (and  a  small  head  of  ditto 
presented),  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  1851, 
well  hung. 

4.  Portrait    of    Miss   Worthington,    afterwards    Mrs. 

Wilner. 

1834.          5.  Study   of  a  girl's   head  (Michele) :    presented    to 
Arthur  Glennie. 

6.  The  Sirens  (painted  at  Florence) :  bought  by  Miss 

Worthington,  and  presented  to  R.  Sulivan,  Esq. ; 
exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  (Somerset  House), 
hung  in  Antique  Room. 

7.  Small  head  of  Eugenie  Sulivan  :   presented  to  R. 

Sulivan,  Esq. ;  not  exhibited. 

8.  Small  portrait  of  son  of  Sir  H.  Floyd  (Florence) : 

not  exhibited. 

9.  Mother  and  Child  (three-quarters,   Florence) :  ex- 

hibited at  British  Gallery ;  sold  to  Mr.  Beckford, 
Bath;  repeated  for  Marquis  of  Lansdowne,  1842 
(No.  42  infra). 

10.  The  Convent  Door :  painted  at  Florence  for  Wm. 
Hey,  Esq.  ;  kit-cat  canvas,  exhibited  at  British 
Gallery. 

*  This  list  is  taken  from  a  note-book  in  my  father's  (or  mother's)  writing. — ED. 


376  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Date. 

1835.  ii.  The  Condemnation  :  half-length,  exhibited  at  Royal 

Academy  (1836),  hung  in  ante-room  (not  sold) ; 
called  in  Royal  Academy  catalogue  '  The  Death 
Warrant.' 

12.  The    Lovers:    three-quarter    panel,    exhibited    at 

British  Institution ;  sold  to  Henry  Atkinson,  Esq. ; 
repeated  for  Mr.  Kiallmark  (No.  13). 

13.  The  Highland  Soldier's  Return  :  exhibited  at  British 

Institution;  sold  to  Mr.  Mollison,  an  engraver. 
T  4.  Dog  and  Boy  (called  '  Cronies '  in  Royal  Academy 

catalogue,  1837):  half-length,  exhibited  at  Royal 

Academy  ;  given  to  R.  Sulivan. 
15.  Watteau   subject  :    three-quarter    panel,    exhibited 

at  British  Institution  ;  forget  what  became  of  it. 
1.6.  Paolo  and  Francesca  :   Bishop's  half-length  canvas,' 

exhibited   at    Royal  Academy  (1837),   hung  in 

left  angle  of  great  room,  just  above  line ;  sold  to 

the  original  Art  Union. 

1836.  17.  'Love  in  the  Virgin  Breast  of  Beauty  Lying':  ex- 

hibited at  British  Institution  ;  not  sold. 

18.  Portrait  of  Mr.  Minshull :  sent  to  Royal  Academy; 

rejected. 

19.  Ditto  repeated,  1845. 

20.  Portrait  of  J.   H.  Andresen  of  Christiania,    as   a 

young  Franciscan  monk  :  cleaned  and  presented 
to  him  in  1859. 

21.  Doorway  of  St.  Mark's,  Venice  :  exhibited  at  British 

Gallery  (painted  at  Venice) ;  sold  to  Marquis  of 
Lansdowne. 

1836  ?       22.  The  Interior  of  an  Italian  Osteria  :  about  seven  feet, 
exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  1838. 

23.  Study  from  Miss  Kiallmark,  looking  up  :  given  to 

her. 

24.  Maiden   Meditation,    done   from   Miss   Kiallmark, 

size  of  life  :  exhibited  at  British  Institution ;  sold 
to  Mr.  Harris ;  bought  by  Mr.  Walford,  Lowndes 
Square. 

25.  The   Applicant  :   exhibited  at  Liverpool;   sold   to 

John  Clow,  Esq.;  bought  at  his  sale,  1852,  by 
Miller. 


APPENDIX  II.  377 


Date. 

26.  Portrait  of  Mrs.  Atkinson  :  small  half-quarter. 

27.  Portrait  of  Mrs.  Holroyd. 

28  ?  The  Post  Office  :  exhibited  at  British  Gallery. 

29.  The    Chess-Players  :    exhibited   at   British   Gallery 

(not  sold) ;  Liverpool;  Glasgow,  1851. 

30.  Portrait  of  Richard  Atkinson,  Esq. :  not  exhibited  ; 

sold  to  Miss  Atkinson.  [Second  portrait  painted 
in  1 844  (?).]_ 

Probably  1838.  31.  Osteria  di  Campagna,  between  Rome  and 
Ancona — Vettura  Travellers'  Repast;  German 
students  in  the  background  :  hung  under  the 
line  in  first  room,  and  at  Manchester  Exhibition, 
1857  ;  sold  to  Mr.  Villebois,  of  Benham. 

1838.  32.  The  Flemish  Mother:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy 
(not  sold) ;  Mr.  Merrit,  picture-cleaner;  had  it  to 
mend ;  hung  in  middle  room. 

33.  Portraits  of  Sir  E.  Filmer's  children  :  exhibited  at 

•Royal  Academy  Commission. 

34.  Dog  '  Pepper ' :  painted  at  Barnard  Castle  ;   given 

to  H.  Benning,  Esq.,  now  in  possession  of  C.  S. 
Benning,  Esq.,  The  Limes,  Dunstable. 

1839-40.  35.  Altar-piece  for  St.  George's  Church,  Leeds:  size  six- 
teen feet  by  ten  feet,  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy, 
1840,  and  at  Liverpool,  where  it  had  the  prize  of 
fifty  guineas  awarded  ;  presented  to  the  church. 

1840.        36-  Beneficence  |  ^   ^Q    ^  ^    £x_ 

37.  Benevolence  i 

hibited  at  Royal  Academy;  hung  under  line 
in  great  room—'  Help  thy  father  in  his  age, 
and  despise  him  not  when  thou  art  in  thy 
full  strength,'  and  '  Almsgiving '  (Royal  Academy 
catalogue  titles)  ;  painted  for  Mr.  Sheep- 
shanks. 

1840-41.  38.  The  Board  of  Guardians:  size  about  five  feet,  ex- 
hibited at  Royal  Academy — '  Poor  Law  Guardians, 
Board-day  Application  for  Bread' (catalogue),  1841 
—then  at  Liverpool  and  British  Gallery ;  hung  on 
line  at  Royal  Academy ;  not  sold  for  two  years, 
then  disposed  of  to  Mr.  Cousins,  an  Art 
Union  prize-holder.  After  Mr.  Cousins'  death, 


37»  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Date. 

in  1890,  this  picture  was  sold  at  his  sale  to  Mr. 
Cooper,  Wellesley  Road,  Croydon. 

39.  The   Penitent's   Return  :   exhibited  at  British    In- 

stitution ;  not  sold. 

40.  Ditto,  unfinished. 

['  Childhood,'  Royal  Academy  catalogue,  No.  1008, 
1841.] 

1841.  41.  Mother  and  Child   taught   to   Read:    kit-cat,   ex- 

hibited at  Royal  Academy,  hung  in  architectural 
room  ;  sold  to  Mr.  Dorrington  before  exhibition. 

1842.  42.  Repetition  of  Mr.   Beckford's  picture,  Mother  and 

Child :  for  Marquis  of  Lansdowne ;  exhibited  at 
Royal  Academy,  great  room,  under  line. 
['  The  Schoolmaster,'  Royal  Academy  catalogue  for 

1842,  No.  8.] 

43.  The  Hawthorn  Bush  :  half-length  canvas,  exhibited 
at  Royal  Academy,  right  corner  of  middle  room  ; 
sold  to  J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq. 
['  Hope,'  Royal  Academy  catalogue,  1842,  No.  193.] 

1843.  44-  The   Cotter's    Saturday   Night:    small    half-length 

canvas,  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  low  down, 
right  centre  of  great  room ;  painted  for  Wm. 
Gott,  Esq.,  of  Leeds. 

45.  '  Search  the  Scriptures '  ('  Reading  the  Scriptures,' 

catalogue,  Royal  Academy) :  exhibited  at  Royal 
Academy,  middle  room,  over  line,  large  half- 
length  canvas ;  painted  for  John  Gott,  Esq.,  of 
Wyther,  near  Leeds. 

46.  Portrait  of  Francis  Wilmer  (six  years  old)  :  painted 

for  Miss  Worthington. 

47.  Cartoon  of  First  Trial  by  Jury :  exhibited  at  West- 

minster Hall ;  gained  first  prize  of  ^300. 

48.  Jacob  and   Rachel  :   cartoon,    exhibited   at   West- 

minster Hall. 

49.  Ditto,   portable   fresco,    exhibited    at   Westminster 

Hall  (destroyed  by  self  in  1863). 

50.  The  Tenants  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy ;  bought 

by  Dickson,  of  Bond  Street ;  Art  Union  prize. 

1844.  51.  Palpitation:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy ;  sold  to 

J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  before  exhibition. 


APPENDIX  II.  379 


Date. 

1844.  52.  The  Cup  of  Cold  Water:  exhibited  at  the  Royal 

Academy  (No.  276) ;  sold  to  Henry  Benyon, 
Esq.,  before  exhibition ;  bought  by  Mr.  Munro 
(of  Novar  ?). 

53.  Genevieve  :  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy ;  not 

sold  ;  sent  for  diploma  picture. 

54.  Portrait  of  Mrs.  St.  George  Burke :  exhibited  at  the 

Royal  Academy ;  now  at  the  Auberies,  Sudbury, 
Suffolk. 

55.  Portrait  of  Richard  Atkinson,  Esq. :  not  exhibited  ; 

sold  to  Miss  Atkinson.  (Same  as  mentioned 
above,  or  a  repetition  ?) 

1845.  56.  Cartoon  of  the  Order  of  the  Garter:  exhibited  at 

Westminster    Hall.      (No    pictures     in    Royal 
Academy.     Mr.  Cope  went  to  Italy.) 
57.  Small  copy  of  Mr.  MinshulPs  portrait :  not  exhibited  ; 
painted  for  —  Morgan,  Esq. 

1846.  58.  The  Young  Mother   (nursing):    exhibited  at  the 

Royal  Academy,  well  hung  in  corner  of  great 
room  ;  sold  to  J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq. 

59.  Pastorella :  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy,  sold 

to  Sir  J.  Wigram. 

60.  Small  cartoon  (the  second)  of  Order  of  the  Garter : 

exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy,  hung  in  minia- 
ture room. 

1847.  61.  Maiden  Meditation:  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Aca- 

demy; sold  to  J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  before 
exhibition. 

62.  Robe  of  Righteousness  ['Girl  at  Prayer,'  Royal 
Academy  catalogue] :  exhibited  at  the  Royal 
Academy ;  sold  to  Mr.  Collyer,  Art  Union. 

1848.  63.  Cardinal    Wolsey :     painted    for    H.R.H.    Prince 

Albert ;  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy. 

64.  L'Allegro        )  Exhibited  at   the  Royal  Academy; 

65.  II  Penseroso  j 

both  sold  to  J.  Sheepshanks,  Esq.,  before  exhibi- 
tion. 

66.  Cartoon    of    Griselda :    exhibited    at     the    Royal 

Academy,  miniature  room. 


380  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Date. 

67.  Fresco  of  Griselda  :  painted  on  wall  of  Upper  Wait- 

ing Hall,  new  Palace  of  Westminster. 

68.  Small  sketch  of  ditto,  in  oil :  exhibited  at  the  Royal 

Academy ;   sold  to  —  Monro,  Esq. 
1849.*      69.  Fireside  Musings  :  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy  ; 

sold  to  J.  Gibbons,  Esq.,  before  exhibition. 
70.  The  First-Born  (life-size) :  exhibited  at  the  Royal 
Academy,  sold  to  Mr.  Dewhurst,  of  Manchester, 
in     1853 ;    engraved   for   the     Art    Union,    by 
Vernon. 

1850.  71.  King  Lear:    exhibited    at   the    Royal    Academy; 

painted  for  I.  K.  Brunei,  Esq.,  for  a  '  Shakespeare 
Room  ' ;  sold  at  Christie's  in  1860. 
7 2  and  73.  Coloured  sketches  for  the  two  frescoes  in 
House  of  Lords,  '  Order  of  the  Garter,'  and 
'  Judge  Gascoigne ' :  exhibited  at  the  Royal 
Academy,  and  at  Liverpool  same  year  ;  Glasgow, 
1851,  screwed  together  (not  sold). 

74.  Portrait  of  Charles  Henry  Cope,  aged  nine  :  exhibited 

at  the  Royal  Academy  (kept  in  family). 

75.  Milton's  Dream  :  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy  ; 

sold  to  J.  Gibbons,  Esq.,  before  exhibition. 

76.  Evening    Prayer:     R.    Newsham,     Esq.,    Preston 

(pencil  note). 

1851.  77.  The   Sisters   (life-size):     exhibited    at    the    Royal 

Academy  (high),  and  Manchester  same  year ; 
sold  at  Manchester  to  Watt  (Dec.  23,  1851). 
78,  79,  80.  Three  subjects  from  the  life  of  Lawrence 
Saunders,  second  martyr  in  Queen  Mary's  reign  : 
exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy,  hung  on  the 
line,  left  hand,  middle  of  second  room ;  sold  to 
Mrs.  Thurburn,  of  Murtle,  Aberdeenshire  (July, 
1851). 

81.  Portrait  of  little  Hallam,  painted  at  Florence  :  exhi- 

bited at  the  Royal  Academy  this  year,  well  hung. 

82.  Portrait  of  Lizzie  Benning  (wife's    cousin) :    exhi- 

bited at  the  Royal  Academy,  large  room. 

*  Mr.  Cope  one  of  the  Hanging  Committee  this  year. 


APPENDIX  II.  381 


Date. 

1852.  83.  Marriage  of  Griselda :  exhibited  at  the  Royal 
Academy,  large  room,  right  hand,  on  line ;  com- 
mission from  Mr.  Betts,  of  Preston  Hall,  Kent* 

84.  Creeping  like  Snail  unwillingly  to  School :  exhibited 

at  Royal  Academy,  right-hand  side,  in  corner, 
well  hung — little  picture;  sold  first  day  to  Mr. 
Bashall,  of  Preston. 

85.  Blacksmith's  Shop,  painted  on  the  spot  at  Aboyne  : 

exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  well  hung,  large 
room,  left  corner,  screen. 

86.  Portrait  of  Florence  Cope  at  Dinner-time  :  exhibited 

at  Royal  Academy,  left  side,  on  line,  very  well 
seen;  sent  to  Paris  Exposition  Universelle,  1867  ; 
property  of  C.  H.  Cope,  1890. 

87.  Drawing  in  chalk  of  little  Christopher,  taken  after 

death :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  miniature 
room,  on  the  line ;  presented  to  the  parents. 

88.  Portrait  in  oil,  life-size,  of  Hon.  W.  S.  Lascelles  :  not 

exhibited;  presented  to  Lady  Caroline  Lascelles; 
painted  from  recollection ;  engraved  by  F.  Holls. 

89.  Drawing  in  chalk  of  old  Mr.  Hardy,  Mrs.  Christo- 

pher's father  :  not  exhibited  ;  sold  to  them. 
l&53-  9°-  Othello  relating  his  Adventures  :  exhibited  at  Royal 
Academy,  great  room,  south  wall,  right-hand  side ; 
commission  from  Mr.  Barlow,  of  Upton  Hall, 
Ardwick,  Manchester;  sold  by  him,  in  1857,  to 
a  dealer,  and  then  to  Mr.  Houldsworth  Mother- 
well,  near  Coltness. 

91.  The  Page:   exhibited   at   Royal  Academy,  middle 

room,  next  the  centre,  on  line ;  commission  from 
Mrs.  Phillips,  of  Heath  House,  Staffordshire. 

92.  Mother  and  Child  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy, 

large  room,  left-hand  corner — small  picture; 
bought  by  Mr.  Sheepshanks. 

93.  The  Mother's  Kiss  (life-size) :   exhibited  at  Royal 

Academy,  large  room,  left  corner  on  entering, 
north  wall ;  not  sold. 

*  Sent  in  August  to  Manchester,  where  the  prize  of  100  guineas  was  awarded 
it,  Oct.  9. 


382  CHARLES   WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Date. 

94.  Portraits  of  Eugenie  Sulivan,  painted  in  Italy,  1834 

(No.  7),  when  seven  years  old,  and  her  daughter, 
Greta  Bell  (No.  89),  painted  1853,  when  five 
years  old  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  end  of 
large  room,  east  wall,  to  right  of  President's 
picture,  on  the  line;  presented  to  Robert  Sulivan, 
Esq.,  Rutland  Gate. 

1854.  95.  The  Friends  (portraits  of  C.  H.  C.  and  Charlotte 
Ellen,  looking  over  '  Robinson  Crusoe ') :  ex- 
hibited at  Royal  Academy,  large  room,  south  wall ; 
bought  by  J.  H.  Robinson,  Esq.,  before  ex- 
hibition. 

96.  Baby's   Turn   (Emily   and    Charlotte    Ellen   Cope 

feeding) :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  large 
room,  north-east  corner ;  sold  the  first  day  to  Mr. 
Lloyd,  a  dealer;  then,  1857,  to  —  Rodgett,  Esq., 
Preston;  to  Wallis,  dealer,  1859,  and  by  him  to 
Graves,  1860,  to  be  engraved. 

97.  Cartoon  of  Lara  (and  fresco)  :  not  exhibited. 

98.  Small  oil  sketch  of  Lara :  not  exhibited  ;  sold  to 

Art  Union  of  Glasgow  in  1857. 

I^55-  99-  Royal  Prisoners  (death  of  Princess  Elizabeth, 
daughter  of  Charles  I.):  exhibited  at  Royal 
Academy,  large  room,  line,  right  side  of  east 
wall ;  sold  to  G.  Courtauld,  Esq. 

100.  Penserosa  (girl   reading)  :   exhibited   at   the  Royal 

Academy,  large  room,  south  wall,  near  east 
corner;  presented  to  H.  C.  Johnson,  Esq.,  and 
left,  at  his  death,  to  his  brother,  Edmund  Charles 
Johnson,  Esq.,  4,  Eaton  Place. 

1 01.  Consolation  (child  trying  to  wipe  tears  from  mother's 

face ;  map  of  Sebastopol  on  the  table) :  exhibited 
at  Royal  Academy,  large  room,  north  wall,  about 
the  middle ;  bought  by  J.  Arden,  Esq.,  Cavendish 
Square  (copyright  retained). 

102.  Portrait  of  Lizzie  Benning  (wife's  sister). 

103.  Ditto,  small  (both  kept  in  family). 

104.  Othello,  replica,  begun  for  Duchess  of  Sutherland 

(not  exhibited,  Mr.  Cope  being  hanger  that  year) ; 


APPENDIX  II.  383 

Date. 

sold  to  J.  W.  Leather,  Esq.,  of  Leeds,  in  Decem- 
ber, 1855. 

1856.  105.   Departure  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  from  Delft  Haven, 

1620  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  west  room, 
left  side,  centre,  1857  ;  sold  to  Lloyd,  and  lent  to 
him  for  two  years  for  engraving.  Lloyd  failed, 
and  the  large  picture  was  returned.  Sent  to 
America;  afterwards,  1864,  sold  to  Government 
of  Melbourne,  Australia,  to  form  the  beginning  of 
a  national  gallery  there. 

1857.  106.  Small  repetition  of  Pilgrim  Fathers  :  not  exhibited; 

painted  for  him.* 

107.  Breakfast-time  —  Morning   Lessons:    exhibited  at 

Royal  Academy,  east  room,  right  side  corner, 
well  hung;  commission  for  H.'W.  Eaton,  Esq., 
1 6,  Princes  Gate  (now  Lord  Cheylesmore). 

1 08.  Affronted    (portrait    of    Charlotte    Ellen    before 

dinner) :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  middle 
room,  right-hand  corner;  sold  to  Colls;  en- 
graved, without  leave,  by  Bacon,  for  Lloyd. 

109.  Cartoon  and  fresco  of  Burial  of  Charles  I.,  for 

Peers'  Corridor. 

1858.  no.  Upward  Gazing  (baby  Arthur)  :  exhibited  at  Royal 

Academy,  great  room  (N.B. — i,  began  in  gray; 
2,  glazed  over  flesh ;  when  dry,  painted  with 
opaque  colour  from  nature,  in  parts.  Sky,  gray 
preparation,  warmed  with  a  glaze  of  red  and 
yellow  ochre  ;  then  ultramarine,  and  white  over 
it  when  dry);  sold  to  R.  P.  Barrow,  Esq., 
Blackheath. 

in.  The  Stepping-Stones :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy, 
north  side  of  great  room. 

1859.  112.  Cordelia  receiving  the  News  of  her  Father's  Ill- 

treatment:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  east 
end  of  great  room;  sold  to  Arthur  Burnand, 
Esq. 

113.  The  Elder  Sister  (Margaret  and  Arthur) :  exhibited 
at  Royal  Academy,  middle  room,  corner;  J. 
Lancaster,  Esq. 

*  Lloyd  ? 


384  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Date. 

114.  Repose  (Arthur  as  a  baby):  exhibited  at  Royal 

Academy,  great  room,  north  side ;  sold  to  J.  H. 
Robinson,  Esq. 

115.  Cartoon  and  fresco  of  the  Parting  of  Lord  and 

Lady  William  Russell :  painted  in  committee- 
room  B,  and  removed  to  Peers'  Corridor, 
Dec.  8,  1859. 

1860.  1 1 6.  Evening  Prayer  (Arthur  as  a  baby):  exhibited  at 

Royal  Academy,  great  room,  south-east  corner; 
sold  to  Arthur  C.  Burnand,  Esq. 

117.  Rest  (Arthur) :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  great 
room,  near  4  Evening  Prayer ';  sold  to  James 
Brand,  Esq.,  of  Bedford  Hill,  Balham. 

1 86 1.  ii  8.  Parting  of  Lord  and  Lady  W.  Russell  :  oil  picture, 

exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  great  room,  east 
end ;  sold  to  J.  Kelk,  Esq.,  before  exhibition. 

119.  Convalescent  (same  size  as  'Rest'):  exhibited  at 

Royal  Academy,  great  room,  south-east  angle  ; 
sold  to  J.  Fores,  Esq.,  before  exhibition. 

120.  Scholar's  Mate:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy, great 

room ;  sold  to  Duncan  Dunbar,  Esq.,  before 
exhibition. 

121.  Fresco  of  Raising  the  Standard  :  removed  to  Peers' 

Corridor,  1861  (December). 

1862.  122  and  123.  Two  Mothers — i.   '  She  openeth  her  mouth 

with  wisdom,'  etc. ;  2.  '  Favour  is  deceitful  and 
beauty  is  vain ' :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy, 
great  room,  north-east  angle.  A  mistake  made 
in  the  priced  catalogue  prevented  the  sale 
of  both  together.  The  Good  Mother  sold 
to  James  Brand,  Esq.,  on  May  23.  Not 
liking  the  separation,  the  Good  Mother  was 
borrowed,  and  exhibited  with  the  other  (head 
repainted)  at  Birmingham,  1864,  and  Mr.  Brand 
consented  to  part  with  it  again  for  the  sum  he 
gave  for  it.  Bought  it  back  from  him,  and  sold 
the  two  together  to  W.  Agnew,  Feb.  21,  1865  ; 
he  sold  them  to  W.  Mendall,*  Esq.,  M.P., 
near  Manchester. 

*  Samuel  Mendel? 


APPENDIX  II.  385 


Date. 

124.  Cartoon  of  Defence  of  Basing   House:   finished 

May  24  ;  not  exhibited. 

Fresco  of  ditto  :  painted  in  water-glass  method. 
1862-3.  Cartoon  of  Expulsion  of  Fellows  done. 

1863.  125.  The  First  Music  Lesson  (Emily  and  Harry):  ex- 

hibited at  Royal  Academy,  great  room ;  sold  to 
Alderman  Salomons  early  on  private  view  day. 
126.  Morning  Lessons  (Harry  and  Arthur) :  exhibited 
at  Royal  Academy,  great  room ;  sold  by  Hart  to 
Alderman  Salomons,  May  29. 

1863-4.     127.  Fresco   of    Expulsion   of    Fellows  :    finished  and 
placed  in  Peers'  Corridor  before  February,  1864. 

1864.  128.  Contemplation:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  left 

side  of  doorway  leading  into  middle,  great 
room.  Picture  begun  in  1856;  sold  to  Agnew 
before  exhibition ;  he  sold  it  to  Samuel  Mendel, 
Esq.,  of  Manchester ;  copyright  retained  to  C. 
W.  Cope,  his  heirs,  etc. 

129.  Portrait  of  Emily  Cope  (begun  in  1860):  exhibited 

at  Royal  Academy,  corner. 

130.  Reading  for  Honours  (C.  H.  C.  at  Abinger,  done 

there) :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy ;  sold  to 
Pococke  first  day  ;  copyright  reserved  and 
registered. 

131.  Cartoon  of  Train  Bands. 

132.  Portrait  of  Mrs.  James  Brand  :  exhibited  at  Royal 

Academy,  1866,  south  side,  east  room. 

1865.  133.  Study  of  Fra  Angelico,  in  oil,  for  a  larger  figure 

to  be  executed  in  mosaic  :  exhibited  at  Royal 
Academy,  large  room,  right-hand  corner  going 
in  ;  given  to  the  Royal  Academy,  as  well  as 
Genevieve,  for  diploma  pictures. 

134.  Large  portrait  of  H.R.H.  the  Prince  Consort 
(posthumous) :  painted  in  oil  for  the  Society  of 
Arts,  to  be  hung  in  their  large  room  with  the 
Barry  pictures. 

N.B. — May  i,  1865.  Registered  twelve  works  at 
Stationers'  Hall,  namely,  seven  frescoes  and 
five  pictures  —  Contemplation,  Two  Mothers, 

25 


386  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Date. 

First  Music  Lesson,  Morning  Lessons ;  Read- 
ing for  Honours  is  copyright  by  agreement. 
135.  Fresco  of  Train  Bands,  in   water-glass,  begun  in 
spring,  finished  by  the  end  of  August. 

1866.*  136.  The  Thorn  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  centre 
room,  north  side  ;  sold  to  Agnew  before  it  was 
finished ;  copyright  retained ;  photographed  by 
Bassano  and  Davis,  but  not  published. 

137.  Posthumous  portrait  of  W.  Dyce,  R.A. :  head,  life- 

size,  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy,  north  room, 
end. 

138.  Smaller  three-quarter  portrait,  ditto  :  given  to  Mrs. 

Dyce. 

139.  Fresco  of  Speaker  Lenthall,  completing  the  Peers' 

Corridor  series  of  frescoes. 

1867.  140.  Shylock  and  Jessica  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy ; 

sold  to  Mr.  Tetley,  of  Gledhow,  near  Leeds. 
(Mr.  Cope  hanger,  instead  of  Sir  E.  Landseer, 
with  Messrs.  Richmond  and  J.  Lewis.) 

1868.  141.  Othello     (third    picture    of    that    subject,    night 

scene) :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy ;  sold  to 
R.  P.  Barrow,  Esq. 

142.  Portrait  of  C.  S.  Benning,  as  Volunteer  :  three- 

quarter,  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  ;  presented 
to  him. 

143.  Pilgrims  at  Emmaus  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  ; 

sold  to  Mr.  Strutt,  of  Belper,  in  1 869. 

144.  Portrait  of  Colonel  Trotter  :    exhibited  at  Royal 

Academy ;  sold  to  Mr.  Hicks. 

1869.  145.  Home   Dreams:    exhibited  at   Royal   Academy; 

sold  to  Messrs.  Agnew. 

146.  Domestic  Chaplain  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  ; 

sold  to  Mr.  Lees,  Wernerth  Park,  Oldham. 
Wellington   and   Dr.   Hume :    exhibited  at  Royal 
Academy ;  destroyed. 

147.  Small  portrait,  whole  length,  of  Dr.  Pears. 

148.  Portrait  of  Rev.  T.  Chevalier  ;  large  half-length. 

1870.  149.  Launcelot   Gobbo's   Siesta:    exhibited    at    Royal 

*  Messrs.  Cope,  Horsley  and  Faed  hangers  this  year. 


APPENDIX  II.  387 


Date. 

Academy ;  sold  to  B.  Peacock,  Esq.,  Gorton 
Hall,  Manchester. 

1871.  150.  Gentle  and  Simple:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy; 

sold  to  Mr.  Edwardes,  Streatham. 
151.  Mr.  Guy  and  Dr.  Mead  considering  the  Architect's 
Plans  for  the  Proposed  New  Hospital  :  ex- 
hibited at  Royal  Academy  ;  presented  to  Guy's 
Hospital;  copyright  sold  to  Mr.  Turner, 
Treasurer. 

1872.  152.  Oliver  Cromwell  receiving  a  Deputation  :  exhibited 

at  Royal  Academy ;  commission  from  Mr. 
Cressingham,  of  Carshalton. 

153.  Contrast:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy;   sold  to 

John  White,  Esq. 

154.  Early  Education,  by  his  Mother,  of  George  Her- 

bert :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy ;  sold  to  S. 
Taylor-Whitehead,  Esq. 

1873.  155.  Yes  or  No  ?  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  ;  sold  to 

Evans  Lees,  Esq.,  Woodfield,  Oldhatn. 
156.  Gentle  Craft:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy;  sold 
to  R.  P.  Barrow,  Esq. 

1874.  157.  Taming  the  Shrew:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy;  sold 

to  J.  Fielden,  Esq.,  Dobroyd  Castle,  Todmorden. 

1875.  158.  Quiet  Employment :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy  ; 

sold  to  Mr.  Bowles,  Enfield. 

159.  Home  Attraction:  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy; 
sold  to  J.  Robinson,  Esq.,  Edenhurst,  Seven- 
oaks. 

1876.  160.  Council   of   the    Royal    Academy — Selection    of 

Pictures  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy ;  pur- 
chased by  George  Moore,  Esq.,  and  presented 
by  him  to  the  Royal  Academy,  to  be  placed  in 
the  Council  Room. 

1877.  161.  Bianca's   Lovers:  exhibited  at   Royal   Academy; 

sold  to  Mr.  C.  P.  Matthews. 

162.  Hope   Deferred :   exhibited  at   Royal   Academy ; 
sold  to  Mr.  J.  Fielden,  Todmorden  Castle. 

1878.  163.  Commander  Cameron's  Reception  at  Shoreham  : 

exhibited  at  Royal  Academy;  sold  to  H.  St. 
John  Mildmay,  Esq.,  in  1888. 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


Date. 

1 879.  164.  Hamlet  and  Ophelia  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy; 

sold  to  J.  Dawson,  Esq.,  Northbrook,  Exeter. 
Sad  Memories  } 

Hesitation  VR.  A.  catalogue.* 

Country  Life  in  the  Olden  TimesJ 

1880.  An  Inquisition  "| 

Perplexed  V  Royal  Academy  catalogue. 

The  Good  Shepherd] 

1881.  165.  Far-away  Thoughts  :  exhibited  at  Royal  Academy ; 

sold  to  Mr.  J.  Craufurd. 

1 66.  Janet   Escaped  :   exhibited    at    Royal   Academy ; 
bequeathed  to  Mrs.  A.  C.  Auchmuty. 

1882.  Summer  Time 

Anne  Page  and  Slender  j 


/-Royal  Academy  catalogue. 


*  Omitted  in  my  father's  note-book,  but  supplied  by  the  secretary  of  the 
Royal  Academy,  from  catalogues  of  those  years.  — ED. 


[  389  1 


APPENDIX  III. 


IN  my  mother's  handwriting  is  a  list  of  the  cartoons  in  the  fol- 
lowing order : 

1.  Caesar     ....  Armitage       • 

2.  Caractacus      .         .         .  Watts  -> 

3.  Trial  by  Jury  .         .         .  C  W.  Cope  ) 

4.  St.  Augustine  .         .         .  Horsley 

5.  Cardinal.         .         .         .  Bell 

6.  Battle  of  the  Beacon        .  Townsend 

7.  Joseph  of  Arimathea        .  Parris 

8.  Eleanor  and  Edward        .  Severn 

9.  Alfred  and  his  Code         .  Brydges 
10.  Una         ....  Frost 
u.  Boadicea       "  .        .        .  Selous 

The  following  is  the  letter  announcing  the  award : 

'  Gwydyr  House,  Whitehall, 

June  26,  1843. 
'SIR, 

'  I  have  the  honour  to  acquaint  you  that  the  judges  ap- 
pointed to  decide  on  the  relative  merit  of  the  drawings  sent  in 
pursuant  to  the  notices  issued  by  her  Majesty's  Commissioners  on 
the  Fine  Arts  in  April  and  July,  1842,  and  March,  1843,  have 
awarded  a  premium  of  ^300  to  you  for  your  drawing  (marked 

®),  representing  the  "  First  Trial  by  Jury." 
'  I  have  the  honour  to  be,  sir, 

4  Your  most  obedient  servant, 

'C.  L.  EAST/LAKE,  Secretary. 
'  Charles  West  Cope,  Esq.' 


390  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


The  following  correspondence  took  place  with  regard  to  the 
subject  of  the  fresco  for  the  House  of  Lords — '  Edward  the  Black 
Prince  receiving  the  Order  of  the  Garter  from  Edward  III.' : 

C.  W.  Cope  to  C.  L.  Eastlake,  Esq. 

Probably  Sept.  30,  1844. 
'SIR, 

'  I  have  been  for  some  time  engaged  on  the  subject 
adjudged  me  by  the  Royal  Commissioners  for  the  fresco  in  the 
House  of  Lords — viz.,  "  Edward  III.  conferring,"  etc.  That  subject 
is  involved  in  much  historical  obscurity,  and  Sir  Harris  Nicholas, 
who,  with  better  materials,  has  investigated  the  subject  more  than 
anyone  who  ever  lived,  says  that  it  never  did  occur  at  all,  and  that 
it  is  a  positive  absurdity.  Under  these  circumstances  I  feel  a 
difficulty  about  proceeding,  and  I  would  request  of  you  to  com- 
municate with  the  Commissioners  on  the  point.  The  Garter  was 
worn  as  a  badge  before  the  institution  of  the  order.  The  Prince 
never  did  receive  it  from  his  father,  being  equally  a  founder  with 
him,  and  having  himself  most  probably  chosen  his  twelve  knights 
companions.  The  nearest  point  about  which  there  is  no  doubt  is 
the  three  sons,  John  of  Gaunt,  etc.  .  .  .  receiving  the  Garter  in 
1361,  which  is  historically  true ;  but  these  would  not  be  so 
interesting  or  conspicuous  characters  as  the  Black  Prince.  Under 
these  circumstances,  and  in  case  the  Commissioners  decide  on 
altering  their  decision,  might  I  take  the  liberty  of  suggesting 
Edward  III.  knighting  his  son  on  landing,  and  just  before  the 
battle  of  Crecy,  which  would  equally  point  out  the  King  as  the 
fountain  of  honour,  and  be  unobjectionable  in  historic  accuracy, 
more  interesting,  and  with  greater  capacities  for  pictorial  treat- 
ment ?  At  the  same  time,  I  beg  to  state  that,  having  settled  on 
my  composition  and  commenced  some  of  my  studies  for  the 
"  Order  of  the  Garter,"  I  am  quite  prepared  to  go  on  with  that, 
should  it  be  so  decided  by  the  Commissioners.  I  need  not  say 
that  I  shall  be  anxious  to  have  as  early  a  reply  as  convenient,  as  I 
am  at  a  standstill.' 

The  same  to  the  same. 

'  Probably  Oct.  10,  1844. 
'Mv  DEAR  SIR, 

'I  have  conferred  with  Sir  H.  Nicholas,  and  also  shown 
him  the  extract  you  gave  me  from  a  letter  of  one  of  the  Commis- 


APPENDIX  III.  391 


sioners.  He  still  upholds  his  former  opinion — viz.,  that  no  such 
thing  as  any  ceremony  took  place  with  reference  to  the  Black 
Prince  or  the  first  companions  or  founders,  either  of  investiture  or 
installation,  and  that  the  Garter  was  worn  previously  to  the  estab- 
lishment of  a  distinct  order ;  that,  since  writing  what  has  been 
quoted  against  him,  he  has  made  further  researches,  which  are 
partly  in  the  introduction  to  (latter  part  of)  his  work.  However, 
that  I  may  make  no  mistakes,  I  wrote  down,  from  his  dictation,  as 
follows:  "Sir  H.  Nicholas  maintains  that  there  is  no  authority 
whatever  for  the  investiture  of  the  Black  Prince  with  the  Order  of 
the  Garter,  and  that  everything  which  is  known  respecting  the  in- 
stitution of  the  order  is  inconsistent  with  such  a  ceremony  ever 
having  taken  place  in  the  instance  of  the  Black  Prince.'" 

(Both  these  letters  are  rough  copies  and  unfinished.  On  the 
same  sheet  of  paper  as  this  last  extract  from  Sir.  H.  Nicholas's  dic- 
tation is  also  apparently  the  extract  referred  to  above  '  from  a  letter 
of  one  of  the  commissioners.' 

COPY. 

Sir  R.  Peel  to  Eastlake. 

• 

'Sir  Harris  Nicholas  observes:  "On  October  12,  1347,  the  King 
and  the  Prince  of  Wales  returned  to  England,  where  more  triumphs 
were  celebrated  by  jousts  and  tournaments ;  and  there  are  strong 
grounds  for  believing  that  the  Order  of  the  Garter  was  finally 
established  at  his  tournament  at  Eltham  before  the  close  of  that 
year.  .  .  ."  That  the  selection  made  by  the  founder  (Edward  III.) 
of  his  first  companions  is  an  interesting  part  of  the  annals  of  the 
Order  involved  in  much  obscurity.  He  seems,  however,  to  admit 
that  it  is  quite  clear  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  was  one  of  the  com- 
panions or  founders  of  the  Order  (for  Sir  Harris  Nicholas  makes 
no  distinction  between  companions  and  founders),  "had  all  par- 
taken of  the  recent  glories  of  the  campaign  in  France."  If  (as  it 
would  appear  they  were  from  Sir  H.  Nicholas's  own  history)  the 
companions  of  the  Order  were  originally  selected  chiefly,  not  ex- 
clusively, on  account  of  military  exploits  in  France,  of  which  Crecy 
was  one ;  if  the  companions  were  selected  by  the  King ;  if  the 
Black  Prince  was  one,  and  the  first,  of  those  companions,  I  think 
the  selection  of  that  event  as  one  to  be  commemorated  in  connec- 
tion with  the  spirit  of  chivalry  is  not  an  historical  absurdity.' 


392  CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 

Copy  of  a  letter  from  Sir  Robert  Peel. 

'Whitehall,  Oct.  12,  1844. 

'  DEAR  SIR, 

'  Whether  this  was  the  exact  ceremony  of  investiture  with 
the  Order  of  the  Garter  in  the  case  of  the  Black  Prince  seems  to 
me  a  matter  of  comparative  unimportance.  The  Order  was  founded 
by  his  father  ;  it  was  finally  established  after  military  exploits  in 
which  the  Prince  took  an  active  part.  The  Black  Prince  was  the 
first  companion  of  the  Order.  Whether  his  designation  be  com- 
panion or  founder,  the  Order  owed  its  institution  to  the  sovereign — 
to  Edward  III.  The  Black  Prince  was  not  a  founder  in  the  sense 
which  would  imply  that  he,  and  not  his  father,  founded  the  Order 
of  the  Garter  ;  there  must  have  been  some  act  of  royal  authority, 
performed  by  the  King,  designating  the  Prince  as  a  companion  of 
the  Order.  The  nature  of  that  act  is  obscure,  but  surely  we  may 
select  the  act  itself,  be  it  selection,  nomenclature,  or  investiture,  as 
a  fit  illustration  of  the  spirit  of  chivalry.  I  know  none  more  fit. 
I  doubt  whether  Sir  Harris  Nicholas's  second  edition  will  throw 
much  more  light  on  the  subject  than  his  first,  and  I,  for  one,  am 
ready  to  incur  the  risk  of  his  new  discoveries.  "  Nous  avons 
change  tout  cela "  will  hardly  come  with  a  good  grace  from  Sir 
Harris  in  reference  to  events  which  occurred  four  hundred  years 
since,  and  in  regard  to  the  true  history  of  which  he  ought  to  be 
(at  least,  until  his  second  edition  shall  actually  appear)  the  highest 
authority.  At  present  that  is  in  our  favour. 

'  Very  truly  yours, 

'  ROBERT  PEEL. 

'  P.S. — You  may  do  what  you  please  with  my  letter. 

'  C.  L.  Eastlake,  Esq.' 

'  Whitehall,  Oct.  19,  1844. 
'SIR, 

'  In  reply  to  your  letters  of  September  30  and  roth  instant, 
respecting  the  subject  allotted  to  you,  I  have  to  acquaint  you  that, 
having  submitted  your  statements  to  the  committee  acting  for  the 
Fine  Arts  Commission  at  this  season,  I  am  authorized  to  say  that 
it  is  not  considered  expedient  to  make  any  change  in  the  subject 

referred  to. 

'  I  am,  sir, 

'  Your  obedient  servant, 

'C.  L.  EASTLAKE,  Secretary. 
'C.  W.  Cope,  Esq.' 


INDEX. 


A  BECKETT,  Gilbert  A.,  215 

Aberlour,  196-198 

Abinger,  250 

Aboyne,  salmon  fishing  at,  195 

Academy,  Royal,  student  in,  22 

medallist,  26,  27 

Associate,  157 

member,  174 

professor  of  painting,  262 

select  committee,  263 

hanging  pictures,  211 

keepership,  211 

Academy  reform,  209,   217,   221, 
264,  354,  etc. 

schools,  354 

Associates,  354-356 

travelling  studentships,  357 

elections,  359 

honorary  members,  361 

non- professional     members, 
361,  etc. 

and    the    Government,   209, 

221 

Albergo  de'  Poveri,  Naples,  77 
All     Saints'     Church,     Margaret 

Street,  224 
America,  voyage  to,  279 

voyage  from,  296 
American  sentiment,  328 

flies,  283 

Quakers,  291 

police,  284 

hospitality,  287 

hotels,  295,  327 

Indians,  294 

art,  322 

architecture,  327 

drinks,  330 
Apple-dumplings  and  George  III., 

178 

Armitage,  Edward,  R.A.,  277 
Armstrong,  Paul,  poacher,  131 
Art  Treasures   Exhibition,   Man- 
chester, 225,  231 
Arundel  Society,  233 
Asphaltum  destructive  of  pictures, 

23 

Assisi,  59-63 
Athenaeum  Club,  210 


Atkinson,  Henry,  54 

John,  119,  126,  141,  166,  265 
Auction,  260-262 

Bacon,  Mr.,  of  Cossy,  1 59 
Baia,  Procida,  etc.,  79-81 
Bankes  of  Stredland,  205 
Barnard  Castle,  134 
Barrow,  R.  P.,  234,  267,  271,  275 
Belgium,  visit  to,  269 
Bell,  John,  sculptor,  26,  38,  340 
Bell,  Tommy,  fisherman,  130 
Bellam,  F.  T.,  18,  22 
Betts,  Mr.,  of  Preston  Hall,  195 
Bishop  of  Hereford,  visit  to,  27 
„       „  Rhode  Island,  296 
„       Barker,  of  Sydney,  251 
„       of  Truro,  144,  229 
Blankenberghe,  269,  344 
Bleaymire,  Miss,  185,  247 
Boating  excursions,  24,  30-35,  115 
Bologna,  46,  47 
Bolsena,  miracle  of,  55,  56 
Bond,  E.  A.,  223,  345,  (letter)  273 
Boston,  U.S.A.,  281 
Boulogne,  253 
Bournemouth,  345,  350-352 
Bovindon    Church   window,    208, 

222 

Boxall,  Sir  W.,  54,  86,  93,  204 
Brand,  James,  254,  260,  278 
Brentpelham  Hall,  217,  218 
Brinkburn  Priory,  182,  202 
Brown,  Wilse,  161-163 
Brunei,  I.  K.,  189 
Burnand,  Arthur,  223,  236 
Burra     Burn,     Northumberland, 

183,  203 

Busby  family,  24 
Stanhope,  338 

Cadogans  of  Brinkburn,  182,  202 
Calais,  242,  269 

Cameron,  Commander,  R.N.,  333 
Cartoon  Exhibition,  149 
Gary,  Francis,  28,  31 

his     father,      translator     of 

Dante,  28 

Chevalier,  Professor,  9,  270  ] . 
Chorley,  musical  critic,  1 50   . 


394 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


Clarke,  Somers,  architect,  209 
Cole,  Sir  H.,  167,  168 
Coleridge,  Sir  John  (letter),  199 
Colonies  and  the  mother  country, 

294 
Cope,  Charles,  of  Leeds,  21 

Letters,  15,  17 
Cope,  Caleb,  of  Philadelphia,  207, 

286 

Cope,  tobacconist,  of  Bristol,  297 
Coquet,  fishing  in,  182,  202 
Correggio,  98 
Cromek,  engraver,  53 
Cromwell  and  Swiss  Protestants, 

273 

Darley,  George,  41 
„       William,  40 
Davidson,     Rector    of    Barnard 

Castle,  1 59 

Deacon,  Seymour,  131 
Dentists,  Sorrento,  87 
Dickens,  Charles,  234-236 
Dorchester,  265 
Duddon  Hall,  226 
Dugard,  Canon,  160 
Dulwich  Gallery,  224 
Durham,  270 

Dyce,  W.,  R.A.,  156,  167,  254,  257 
Letters,  171-174,  200 

Earthquake  at  Florence,  94 
Eastlake,  Sir  C.,  P.R.A.,  175,  208, 

211,215,224 

Elam,  Squire,  1 1 5,  230,  249 
Etching  Club,  135-138,  179,  210, 

221 
Ewart,  Mr.,  M.P.,  144 

Fearnley,  Thomas,  87 
Fly-fishing,  first  attempt,  1 1 

Tees,  123,  181 

Greta,  13,  182 

Blackwater,  148 

Coquet,  182 

Aboyne,  194 

Aberlour,  196 

Riverhead  ( Kent),  224 

Duddon,  226 

Llanbedr,  236 

Usk,    Thames   (chub),    218, 
244,  265 

Hawes  Water,  245,  258 

Chagford,  267 

Taw,  243 

Dovedale,  27 1 


Fly-fishing,  Canobie,  275 

Maxwelton,  332 
Foundling  Hospital,  Parma,  99 
Fresco  commissions,  150,  156,  169, 

175,  179,  205,  207,214,220, 

224,  243,  255 

Gibson,  sculptor,  54 
Glastonbury,  177 
Glennie,  Arthur,  53,  etc.,  202 
Gloucester,   Duchess  of,   funeral, 

223 

Goshorn,  General,  U.S.A.,  301 
Gotts,  of  Leeds,  143,  144 
Grant,  of  Elchies,  210 

Sir  Francis,  P.R.A.  (letter), 

264 
Green  family,  of  South  Shields 

164 
Greta  Bridge,  13,  123 

Haden,  Seymour,  217 
Hallam,  G.,  85 
Harewood  Bridge,  12 
Harrison,  of  Stubb   House,  124, 

142 

Cornelius,  29,  (letter)  38 
Harwich,  240-242 
Hathorn,  George,  R.N.,  213 
Hawes  Water,  245,  258 
Hayman,     Rev.,     translator      of 

Dante,  246 
Herculaneum,  75 
Hermit  of  Soracte,  67 
Hess,  of  Munich,  152-154 
Hessey,  Dr.  F.,  251 
Hey,    W.,   of  Roundhay,   Leeds, 

375 

S.,  of  Sawley,  225 
Hilton,  W.,  R.A.,  22 
Hook,  Dr.,  167 
Hope,  A.  J.  B.  Beresford,  271 
Houses  of  Parliament  (new  Palace 
of  Westminster),  146 

Queen's  Robing-room,  257 

Upper  Waiting  Hall,  1 57 

Peers'  Corridor,  207 

Commons'  corridor,  257 

Royal  Gallery,  255 

Conference  Hall,  257 

House  of  Lords,  105 
Hunt,  Holman,  210 

Ightham,  moat,  191 
Ilkley,  10 


INDEX. 


395 


Ingres,  39 
Irish  beggars,  147 
Ischia,  82 

Italian  sculpture,  modern,  323 
Italy,  first  visit,  43 
second,  150 

James,  Burleigh,  127 
Johnson,  Henry  Charles,  204 

Kauffmann,  Angelica,  193 
Keble,  illustrations  for,  199 
Kiallmark  family,  1 1 1 
Kingdom,  J.  B.,  18,  20 

Lamb,  Charles,  36 

Lance,  painter,  196 

Landseer,  Charles,  150 
Sir  E.,  121,  195 

Laurie,  Mrs.,  of  Maxwelton,  332 

Lectures,  R.A.,  262 
Philadelphia,  299 

Leeds,  Park  Square,  i 
altar-piece,  119 
Little  Woodhouse,  141 
St.  Saviour's  Church,  167 

'  Liberators  '  of  Spain,  240-242 

Longevity,  165 

Lucases  of  Hitchin,  259 

Maclise,    Daniel,   R.A.,   27,    157, 

169,  196,  209,  223,  255 
Maidenhead,  138,  335 
Maplestead,  335,  350 
Martineau,  Harriet,  54 
Martino,   convent  of  S.,  Naples 

73 

Matzen,  86 
Maule,  G.  B.,  151 
Maxwelton,  332 
Medals  for  art,  314 
Melbourne  National  Gallery,  207 
Milan,  45 

Mildmay,  St.  John,  333 
Minshull,  Bow  Street  Magistrate, 

112-114 

Models,  artists',  347 
Monachi,  86,  89 
Moore,  George,  278 
Moresby,  30,  34 

Mudge,  Capt.  Zachary,  166,  222 
Mummy,  opening  of  a,  176 
Munich,  visit  to,  152-154 

Naples,  73 

Dowager  Queen  of,  59 


Napoleon  I.,  100 

Louis,  267 
Narni,  Umbria,  65 
National  Gallery,  209,  221 
Negro  waiters,  289 
Newsham,  Mr.,  of  Preston,  225 
Niagara,  292 
Nicholas,  St.,  83 
Nichols,  Mr.,  U.S.A.,  284 
Norfolk,  159,  250 
Nuts  to  crack,  219 

O'Grath,  Captain,  93 
Orvieto,  55 

its  wine,  71 

Owen,  Professor,  253,  275 
Oxford,  243 

Padua,  103 

Paestum,  75 

Page,  Cyril,  150 

Painting,   methods,   91,   99,    153, 

201,  215,  231-255 
Palmer,  Samuel,  193,  220 
Paris,  38-42,  266 
Parkin,  Anthony,  258 
Parma,  97 

Pattison,  Mark,  244-248" 
Peers'  Corridor,  207 
Perugia,  52 
Pettigrew,  Mr.,  176 
Petworth,  222 

House,  222 
Philadelphia,  282 
Pickersgill,  Mr.,  R.A.,  92 
Pierpont  s  school,  277 
Pilgrim  Fathers,  207 
Poaching  fray,  132 
Pompeii,  75 

Ponte  Molle,  Society  of,  108 
Portable  frescoes,  214,  216 
Portland  Island,  178 
Prestons  of  Warcop  Hall,  125 
Prestwich,  Professor,  275 
Price,  Edward,  31 
Prince   Consort,    157,    169,    174, 
176,  179,  212,  255-258 

Quakers,  291 
Queen  at  R.A.,  212 

at  Hyde-Park-Gate  South,  254 

Ranch  life,  290 

Redgrave,    Richard,    R.A.,    118, 

123,  136 
Samuel,  136,  176 


396 


CHARLES  WEST  COPE,  R.A. 


Report,   Philadelphia,   1876,  322- 

324 
Residences,  Leeds,  i,  6 

London,  2,  15,  23,  ill,  119, 

143 

Maidenhead,  335,  339 

Rome,  51 

Florence,  91 

Sorrento,  84 

Richmond,   G.,   R.A.,    122,    181- 
185,  190,  199,  233,  256 

W.  B.,  220 

Roberts,  Herbert,  250 
Robinson,  J.  H.,  R.A.,  222 
Romano,  Giulio,  101 
Rome,  first  view  of,  52 

St.  Peter's,  53 
Romney,  227 

Royal  Commission  on  Fine  Arts, 
146 

on  the  R.A.,  Appendix  I. 
Ryan,  Mr.,  15,  242 

Saratoga,  U.S.A.,  294 

Sass'  Academy,  15,  18-20,  26 

Schools,  Camberwell  Grove,  2 

Great  Marlow,  3-5 

Leeds,  6-10 

Screw-propeller,  invention  of,  24 
Sedbergh,  230,  249 
Sevenoaks,  190 
Severn,  consul  at  Rome,  43 
Sharp,  Jane,  2 
Sheepshanks,  John,  120-122 
Sherwood  Forest,  6 
Shoreham,  Kent,  333 
Shuttleworth,  Sir  James,  266 
Siena,  97 

Skene,  Harriet.  197 
Skipper,  the  old,  34 
Smith,  Colonel,  96 

pupil,  1 68,  171 
Society  of  Arts,  168 
Sonning,  217 
Soracte,  66 
Spiritualism,  237 
Spondon,  an  impostor,  95 
Spurgeon,  232 
Squeers,  235 
Stag-hunt,  211 


Stonhouse,  26,  30,  136 

Sullivan,  Robert,  85, 123, 142,  194, 

222,  251 

Sunday  band  in  Hyde  Park,  213 
Sutherland,  Duchess  of,  206 
Swanage,  205 
Switzerland,  43,  166 

Teesdale,  tour  in,  13 
Terni,  Umbria,  64 
Thorburns  of  Murtle,  196 
Todi,  Umbria,  57 
Tom  Taylor,  art  critic,  157,  223 
Tom  Taylor,  fisherman,  128-130 
Trendell,  A.  J.  R.  (letter),  316 
Trust  in  Englishmen  in  Italy,  64, 

89 

Turner,  J.  M.  W.,  R.A.,  231 
Liber  Studiorum,  21 
will  case,  210,  211 

Ulpha,  Cumberland,  226-230 
Umbria,  ramble  in,  54-71 

Vegetarianism,  23 
Venice,  105 
Vernet,  Horace,  108 
Vernon,  Captain,  46 
Verona,  102 
Vesuvius,  77,  85,  90 

Wales,  ramble  in  North,  27 
Walker,  Dr.,  of  Leeds,  6 

'  Wonderful,'   of   Seathwaite, 
227 

General,  U.S.A.,  310,  311 
Walking-sticks,  105 
Warkworth  Castle,  203 
Water-glass  fresco,  255 
Waterer,  Mr.,  279,  284 
Webster,  T.,  R.A.,  232 
Wellington  Monument,  225 
Wells  Cathedral,  177 
Westmore.  Rev.,  231 
White,  Edward,  36 
Wilkie,  Sir  D.,  22,  23 
Woburn  Abbey,  234 
Wolsey  picture,  174 
Worthington,  Miss,  85,  92 

Yachting,  277 


THE    END. 


BILLING   AND   SONS,    PRINTERS,   GUILDFORD. 

/.  D.  &=  CO.