Chapter 6 of 10 · 13273 words · ~66 min read

CHAPTER IV

ROYAL ACADEMICIAN--MUSIC--ARAB HALL

1869-1878

In 1869, the year after his journeyings in Egypt, Leighton was elected a Royal Academician. The picture which he chose as his Diploma work to be deposited in the Academy on his election was the "S. Jerome," one of those few works which reflected the side of his nature about which he was profoundly reserved. Another work of which the same might be said is "Elijah in the Wilderness," painted in 1879. Leighton told a friend he had put more of himself into that picture than into any other he had ever invented. Three paintings which are among Leighton's very best appeared on the walls of the Academy in 1869--"Daedalus and Icarus," "Electra at the Tomb of Agamemnon," and "Helios and Rhodos." In no work did Leighton indulge his passion for colour so successfully as in the last-named picture. He wrote to his master, Steinle, in 1860: "You will perhaps be surprised, but, in spite of my fanatic preference for colour, I promised myself to be a draughtsman before I became a colourist." Again, in a letter to a friend in 1879 he wrote: "Colour was supposed to be my _forte_ (_par parenthese_, though I am not a colourist, albeit passionately fond of colour, I have always been, and am, a great _cuisinier_; I have tried quite innumerable methods and vehicles)." Some of Leighton's appreciators cannot help feeling jealous of this obstinate determination to struggle with those gifts for which nature had not given him the preference, many considering his artistic error to have been that of putting the screw too tightly on his preconceived determinations. Had he _sometimes_, at all events, allowed his "fanatic preference" to have free play, more of his works might have glowed with the revelry in rich colour we find on the canvas of "Helios and Rhodos."

[Illustration: ST. JEROME. 1869. DIPLOMA WORK Deposited in the Academy on Lord Leighton's election as an Academician]

[Illustration: "ELECTRA AT THE TOMB OF AGAMEMNON"]

No complete work evinces more conclusively the force of Leighton's dramatic gift than "Electra"; and--further--masterly and beautiful as are all Leighton's arrangements of drapery, those in this design strike me as specially expressive. They are truly superb. The balance of the masses, and the sweeping lines from the feet up to the shoulder and over the chest, are grandly conceived--the arrangement of the folds notably adding to the suggestion of tragic feeling in the attitude of the figure.

"Icarus," in the picture of the inventive father and the aspiring son, is a beautiful figure of a youth. The conception, design, and colouring of the picture are worthy of Leighton at his best.

Though Egypt had made a deep impression on Leighton's aesthetic emotions, as is obvious from his Diary, his visit there apparently did not actually suggest any pictures except "A Nile Woman"--the only work exhibited at the Academy in 1870--and "Egyptian Slinger Scaring Birds in Harvest-time: Moonrise," exhibited in 1875. A subject suggested by an event, which had occurred some years previously, appears to have been engrossing his mind, before he found expression for it, in the painting "Heracles Wrestling with Death for the Body of Alcestis," exhibited 1871. Many persons admired this work more than any that had previously appeared.[42] It evoked the lines from Browning:--

"I know, too, a great Kaunian painter, strong As Hercules, though rosy with a robe Of Grace that softens down the sinewy strength: And he has made a picture of it all. There lies Alcestis dead, beneath the sun She longed to look her last upon, beside The sea, which somehow tempts the life in us To come trip over its white waste of waves, And try escape from earth, and fleet as free. Behind the body I suppose there bends Old Pheres in his hoary impotence; And women-wailers, in a corner crouch --Four, beautiful as you four,--yes, indeed! Close, each to other, agonising all, As fastened, in fear's rhythmic sympathy, To two contending opposite. There strains The might o' the hero 'gainst his more than match, --Death, dreadful not in thew and bone, but like The envenomed substance that exudes some dew, Whereby the merely honest flesh and blood Will fester up and run to ruin straight, Ere they can close with, clasp and overcome, The poisonous impalpability That simulates a form beneath the flow Of those grey garments; I pronounce that piece Worthy to set up in our Poikile!"

Leighton had taken the lines from Euripides as his text:--

"There slept a silent palace in the sun, With plains adjacent and Thessalian peace."

"....Yea, I will go and lie in wait for Death, the king of souls departed, with the dusky robes, and methinks I shall find him hard by the grave drinking the sacrificial wine. And if I can seize him by this ambush, springing from my lair, and throw my arms in circle round him, none shall snatch his panting body from my grasp till he give back the woman to me."

[Illustration: "HERACLES STRUGGLING WITH DEATH FOR THE BODY OF ALCESTIS." 1871 By permission of the Fine Art Society, the owners of the Copyright]

This work made a landmark in Leighton's career. "Dante at Verona" had combined a complicated design of many figures with a dramatic feeling; "Cimabue's Madonna" and the "Syracusan Bride" had proved Leighton's "great power of rich arrangement," to quote D.G. Rossetti's words respecting "Cimabue's Madonna"; but in the "Heracles Wrestling with Death" there was felt to be a more profound tragedy; indeed, the objective treatment had in this instance ceded to one more subjective, in so far that the subject had appealed to him through a personal experience, though the feeling was, as in nearly all Leighton's greatest works, veiled in a classic garb. In a letter to his mother, dated November 13, 1864, he wrote:--

_November 13, 1864._

I returned so suddenly on account of a grave and terrible anxiety, _now quite removed_, about my dear friend Mrs. Sartoris.

I must tell you that for some time past she has been looking dreadfully ill, getting daily worse, haggard and thin. I, in common with all her friends, had been growing very anxious, and conjectured that some day or other a crisis must come in which only the surgeon could avail her. I little thought how near at hand the moment was! She on her part had borne up with an amount of moral and physical courage which everybody says was quite incredible. Her nearest relations have not known from her that she was in so dangerous a state. A week ago I arrived at Francport, the chateau of the Marquis de l'Aigle, where I expected to find Mr. and Mrs. Sartoris and their children. I found instead Mme. de l'Aigle in the deepest anxiety and commotion, having received a letter saying that on that very day poor Mrs. S. was undergoing an operation of which the event was very doubtful! I need hardly say that I instantly hurried off to England in the greatest alarm, and in fear and trembling lest she should have succumbed. You may judge of my relief, next morning, on hearing from the servant in Park Place that she was doing well. I hurried off to the doctor, a friend of mine, and heard that for six hours her life had been in jeopardy, but that, thank God, she was doing amazingly well, that for a week there could be no _certainty_ of her recovery, but that the possible chances doubled every day. Since then, thank God, she has progressed so _astoundingly_ owing to her immense roots of vitality and health, that one may be almost _certain_ (_unberufen_) of her complete recovery, in which event she will enjoy life more than she has done for several years. Her family and friends have escaped an entirely irreparable loss.

The very beautiful picture, "Greek Girls Picking up Pebbles by the Shore of the Sea," was also exhibited in the Academy in 1871, likewise a smaller work, "Cleoboulos Instructing his Daughter Cleobouline." This is one of several which proves Leighton's gift for catching the grace and singular refinement of childhood. "Lord Leighton's drawings and paintings of children show the protecting, caressing tenderness he felt towards them. He loved little things, little children, kittens--'caressing littleness, that littleness in which there is much of the whole woeful heart of things'--everything lovely that had in it the unconscious grace of helplessness seemed especially to touch him."

In 1872 "Summer Moon" was exhibited--the picture Watts told me he thought he preferred to all of Leighton's paintings. I believe the cause of this preference arose from the fact that the quality and texture in "Summer Moon" is looser and more vibrating, and gives a greater sense of atmosphere than is suggested by Leighton's works as a rule. Moonlight mystifies the tints of purple and blue, and creeps over and into every fold of the beautiful drapery--glistening on the white garment of the recumbent figure. In every line and touch in the exquisite design of the figures and drapery lurks the poetry of moonlight; the song of a nightingale perched on the branch of a pomegranate tree enhancing the sense of deep restfulness in the scene.[43]

[Illustration: "SUMMER MOON." 1872 By permission of Messrs. P. & D. Colnaghi, the owners of the Copyright]

[Illustration: "A CONDOTTIERE." 1872]

[Illustration: STUDY FOR FIGURE IN FRIEZE. "MUSIC." 1886 Leighton House Collection]

[Illustration: STUDY FOR FIGURE IN "THE ARTS OF WAR," Victoria and Albert Museum. 1872 Leighton House Collection]

It is thought by some that the design would have carried out the feeling of absolute repose better had the lower curves of the round aperture behind the figures been absent--these lines rather suggesting horns springing up on either side of the group. The end of the foot of the sitting figure being cut off by the bottom line of the picture has also a somewhat uncomfortable effect. The same thing occurs in the picture "Greek Girl Dancing," producing the feeling that the canvas has run short. These criticisms, however, only refer to minor matters. "Summer Moon" is an exquisitely beautiful picture, one which will ever sustain the great reputation of its creator. "A Condottiere" and the monochrome version of "The Industrial Arts of War" (76 x 177 in.), exhibited at the South Kensington International Exhibition the same year, strikingly contrast in character with "Summer Moon." If the one is notable for gentle, womanly grace and a sense of relaxation induced by slumber, "A Condottiere" is full of verve and virile power,[44] and in the design for "The Industrial Arts of War" all is action and movement. Leighton made many studies for all his principal pictures, but the finest group of sketches are certainly those made for mural decorations. Being executed under more difficult conditions than the easel pictures, doubtless he felt more preparation for frescoes was required. The studies in Leighton House for the "Arts of War," "Arts of Peace," two friezes, "Music," "The Dance," "And the Sea gave up the Dead that were in it," the painted decoration for the ceiling of a music room, "Phoenicians Bartering with Britons," are the most completely worked out and powerful studies in the collection. In the following year, 1873, the companion lunette in monochrome, "The Industrial Arts of Peace," was exhibited at the Royal Academy. This design is more comfortably fitted into its space than that of the "Arts of War," as the whole is lifted up from the bottom line of the lunette, and no part of the figures is cut off (as in the case of the men's feet and the drapery of the otherwise most beautiful group of women on the left hand in the "Arts of War"). "Weaving the Wreath," a small picture of lovely colour and subtle technique, appeared in 1873, and in 1874 three of the most remarkable of Leighton's pictures of single figures. "In a Moorish Garden: a Dream of Granada" the charming child "Cleobouline" reappears in an Eastern turban and drapery, holding a copper vessel and followed by two peacocks, walking across a square canvas filled in by a background of the delightful garden at Generalife at Granada. "The Antique Juggling Girl" is one of the best examples in Leighton's work of his "ardent passion for colour," and his perfect mastery in painting the beauty of an undraped figure. The form of the torso recalls the exquisite fragment from the Naples Museum.[45] The actual painting, however, exemplifies the truth of Leighton's very notable words written to Steinle, "What reveals true knowledge of form is a powerful, organic, refined finish of modelling full of feeling and knowledge--and that is the affair of the brush." The principal scheme of colour is effectively carried throughout the picture--in the golden flesh tint against the ivory-white of the parchment banner hung as a screen background, the crown of dark ivy leaves and the golden balls telling out as notes of a deeper tone; the crinkled folds of white drapery resting on the darker mass, the full tawny browns and yellows of the leopard skins on which the figure stands making a dark, luminous basis, the metal jar and the dense foliage of deep verdant green enriched by the orange of the fruit springing up and continuing the dark framework of the central design. This picture is a very original work, and should, I think, be placed very high in the rank of Leighton's achievements. "Clytemnestra from the battlements of Argos watches for the beacon fires which are to announce the return of Agamemnon" is, in every sense, a contrast to the "Antique Juggling Girl." The figure is powerful and heavily draped, the drapery being superb, and the limbs those which might truly overpower even Agamemnon.[46]

[Illustration: "ANTIQUE JUGGLING GIRL." 1874 By permission of Mr. George Hodges]

[Illustration: "CLYTEMNESTRA WATCHES FROM THE BATTLEMENTS OF ARGOS FOR THE BEACON FIRES WHICH ARE TO ANNOUNCE THE RETURN OF AGAMEMNON." 1874 Leighton House Collection]

[Illustration: STUDY FOR "CLYTEMNESTRA." 1874 Leighton House Collection]

[Illustration: STUDY FOR "SUMMER MOON" From Oil Sketch painted by Moonlight in Rome Given by the late A. Waterhouse, R.A., to the Leighton House Collection]

The bar of red, which strikes a warm note among the cool lights and shadows of moonlight, adding immensely to the value of these tones, was suggested by the coral necklace, worn by the model from whom Leighton painted the study by moonlight for "Summer Moon" in Rome. "Egyptian Slinger" was Leighton's principal work exhibited in 1875, "The Daphnephoria" already engrossing most of his time and thought. This picture (89 x 204 inches), "a triumphal procession held every ninth year at Thebes in honour of Apollo and to commemorate a victory of the Thebans over the Aeolians of Arne" (see Proclus, "Chrestomath," p. 11), and the very fine portrait of Sir Richard Burton were exhibited in 1876. From some points of view "The Daphnephoria" is Leighton's greatest achievement. The difficulties he surmounted successfully in the work were of a character with which few English artists could cope at all. The size of the canvas alone would certainly have insisted on ten years' devotion to it from most modern artist-workmen. The extreme breadth of the arrangement of the masses, united with great beauty of line and form in the detail; the sense of the moving of a procession swinging along to the rhythmic phrases of chanted music; the brilliant light of Greece, striking on the fine surface of the marble platform along which the procession is moving and on the town below, which it has left behind, contrasting with the deep shadowed cypress grove rising as background to the figures;--all this is more than masterly: it is convincing. It is probably quite unlike what took place at Thebes every ninth year;--but Art is not Archaeology. The written account of what took place fired Leighton's imagination to create a scene in which he treated the Greek function as the text; the wonderful light and the fineness of Greek atmosphere as the tone; the processional majesty and grace of movement as the

## action. The element of beauty which the record suggested to him was

the truth of the scene to Leighton, and he has recorded the essence of it in an extraordinarily original work.

It was after Leighton's death that the picture first "struck home" to me. The last day of the exhibition of a wonderful man's life-work had come to an end one Saturday afternoon in the spring of 1897. It had been a record day at Burlington House; crowds had filled the galleries from morning till the light had begun to wane. Only a very few stragglers remained, but the keeper, Mr. Calderon, R.A., was there. One of the porters in his red gown came up to him, and petitioned for a half-hour more before the final closing of the doors on the message which Leighton had left to the world. Both men, the keeper and the porter, looked grave and sad. The great President had been beloved by all. The porter's request was granted, and it was during that short half-hour that I seemed for the first time fully to realise the great qualities of "The Daphnephoria"; the room being empty, it could be seen from the right distance, and the conception of the work and its completion spoke out very plainly and convincingly.

[Illustration: "THE DAPHNEPHORIA"--A TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION HELD AT THEBES IN HONOUR OF APOLLO. 1876 By permission of the Fine Art Society, the owners of the Copyright]

[Illustration: "AT A READING-DESK." 1877 By permission of Messrs. L.H. Lefevre & Son, the owners of the Copyright]

Different as a picture could be was the exquisite "Music Lesson" of 1877. Again we have the lovely little Cleobouline, her delicate fingers learning to make music on a mandoline. The grouping and grace in the attitude of the teacher and the pupil, the ease and pleasant arrangement of the draperies, the texture and fine distinction in the feeling and technique of the work, can only be suggested by a reproduction; whereas to appreciate in any way the delicate brightness and charm of the colour is impossible without seeing the original. This is the one of all Leighton's paintings which--perhaps more than any other--conclusively contradicts the statement made, that "the inspiration stage was practically passed when he took the crayon in his hand." Another Cleobouline also appeared in the same Academy Exhibition--as fascinating as the little lady learning music; "Study" it was called--a child in a delightfully painted glistening pink silk dressing-gown, sitting cross-kneed on an Eastern carpet before an inlaid prayer-desk. Very characteristic of Leighton's bewitching painting of children's feet are the little toes of the child peeping out between the folds of pink drapery. The finest woman's portrait Leighton ever painted appeared the same year as a "Music Lesson." This was Miss Mabel Mills.[47] The breadth and delicacy in the modelling of the cheek and throat rivals the work of Greek sculpture. The most serious work exhibited in 1877 was the bronze version of Leighton's "Athlete Strangling a Python,"[48] the small sketch of which was made in 1874. This statue showed to the world his power as a sculptor. Every work he modelled evinced in an equal degree his consummate ability as such, though the more flexible treatment--in the modelled sketches for the "Python," the sleeping group in "Cymon and Iphigenia,"[49] and the "Perseus and Andromeda"--may carry with it a greater charm than is found in the completed statues. The following letters from the French sculptor Dalou, the painter George Boughton, and Sir Edgar Boehm are testimonies to the effect which the "Python" in bronze, and the sketch, produced on artists at the time they were executed:--

217A GLEBE PLACE, CHELSEA, S.W., _2 Mai 1877_.

MON CHER LEIGHTON,--Si mes humbles felicitations peuvent vous toucher j'en serais tres heureux.

J'esperais vous voir lundi dernier a l'Academy et vous complimenter comme vous le meritez pour votre belle statue. A quoi sert de gratter toute sa vie un morceau de terre, quand pres de soi on voit tout a coup surgir un chef d'oeuvre d'une main a qui la sculpture etait jusque la restee etrangere?

Si j'etais envieux ce serait une belle occasion pour moi, mais loin de la j'ai ete tres heureux d'admirer votre oeuvre, et tres flatte de l'honneur qu'on a fait a ma pauvre terre cuite, en la placant en pendant avec votre bronze; c'est encore un bon souvenir de plus qui me viens de l'Academy et de vous, mon cher Leighton, car je sais toute la part que vous avez prise au deplacement dont ma figure a ete l'objet.

Aussi croyez que je suis heureux de pouvoir me dire votre sincere admirateur et tres reconnaissant ami,

J. DALOU.

[Illustration: "AN ATHLETE STRANGLING A PYTHON" From small sketch, 1876]

GROVE LODGE, PALACE GARDENS TERRACE, KENSINGTON, W., _December 11, 1874_.

DEAR MR. LEIGHTON,--I fear that the note which I sent with the bronze did not explain itself sufficiently. I _meant_ to ask you to _accept_ it--"to have and to hold for yourself your heirs and assigns for ever," to speak legally.

I can in no way express the pleasure I felt when I saw your small study for the man battling with the serpent. I hope the report in the _Academy_ that it is to be done life-size in bronze is true. It will be worthy to go with the best of the antiques. The other study for the singing maidens was delightful[50] as the other was grand. To put it in the picturesque parlance of the Far West, "I was knocked over and sat on." It will be a slight relief to give my words a little form and weight; as I am unfortunately not a Roman Emperor and have not a golden crown of laurel about me, pray do me the favour to accept the only thing I have worth sending.--Believe me, yours very sincerely,

GEO. H. BOUGHTON.

GROVE LODGE, PALACE GARDENS TERRACE, KENSINGTON, _December 14, 1874_.

DEAR MR. LEIGHTON,--I don't know which to admire most--the "sketch," as _you_ call it (it seems "heroic" in size even now), or your great kindness in sending it to me. Now that I may enjoy it at my leisure--and I take my leisure very often--it seems finer even than I thought it was. Not merely the _spirit_ of the antique, but the antique _itself_, and the "antique" I mean is the everlasting, the best mortal may ever hope to make.

This is, as far as my capacity for judging is worth, _sincere_. I know how perilous it is to say warmly what one feels, how it is put down as "gush" and "bad form"; but when in this very London fog of Art one sees a spark of pure light, there is some excuse for shouting with joy.

I should reproach myself with taking up overmuch of your time in this matter, but I know that you are very good-natured; besides you might have taken my poor little bronze tribute in as few words as I sent it, and there it might have ended--though for myself I am glad you did not, and shall be ever selfishly thankful that you acted as kindly as you did.

Pray don't bother to reply to this, I am too much your debtor already.--Yours very sincerely,

GEO. H. BOUGHTON.

78 CORNWALL GARDENS, QUEEN'S GATE, _May 11, 1877_.

DEAR LEIGHTON,--I follow my instinct and sincere desire in congratulating you on your magnificent statue in the Academy, which I have just seen. It is superb. I think it the best statue of modern days. I was riveted with admiration and astonishment; and whatever you may think of my judgment, pray take this as my humble and heartfelt tribute to a work of genius, which to my mind ranks nearer "zur Antiken" than anything I have seen, during my career, produced in any school or country.

Believe me, with sincere admiration, yours,

J.E. BOEHM.

In 1890 Leighton made a replica of the statue in marble for the Glyptothek in Copenhagen. It was exhibited in the Royal Academy Exhibition in 1891.

Many were the voices heard exclaiming that Leighton ought to give himself entirely to sculpture. His masterly power in understanding form, and giving expression to it in Art, was readily understood and appreciated when he worked in the round, whereas it had been but scantily appreciated in his painting; the fact being, that the public is unaccustomed to find that power developed in modern pictures, whereas in sculpture it is the principal and obvious aim in any statue. However, whatever the public thought or expressed, Leighton went on painting. In 1878 "Nausicaa" and "Winding the Skein" were exhibited, both among Leighton's happiest works. A reticent grace in the attitude of the figure, and a tender yearning sadness in the face, makes this rendering of "Nausicaa" very attractive. "Winding the Skein" is the best example of those fair pictures which Leighton painted, and evidently delighted in painting, as records of Southern--and more particularly--Greek light and atmosphere. For the special charm in the tone and colouring to be understood, the picture itself must be seen; but the design and delightful feeling in the movement of the figures can be rendered in the reproduction. Again in this work the fascinating little figure of Cleobouline appears and also the teacher in the "Music Lesson." In all, Leighton painted thirty-six important pictures, twenty-six slighter works,[51] and executed his first statue, "Athlete Strangling a Python," in the ten years between 1869 and 1879.

[Illustration: "NAUSICAA." 1878]

During these years the Royal Academy Exhibition took place in Burlington House, it having previously been held in a suite of rooms at the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square.

Leighton sent photographs of the cartoons for the "Industrial Arts of War" and of "Peace"[52] to Steinle, who wrote his criticisms on the designs. The following is Leighton's answer:--

_Translation._] _February 3, 1874._

MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,--Your very welcome lines arrived auspiciously a few days ago. I need not say how delighted I am that you are not displeased with the two compositions of your old pupil, and that you recognise in them a not unworthy effort. I am especially grateful to you that while giving your approbation you have enclosed a criticism, and only regret that you have blamed but one thing, where there are unfortunately so many faults. I shall endeavour, if these cartoons ever come to be carried out, as far as possible to repress the faults which you remark in "Peace"; for, as I am by all means passionate for the true _Hellenic_ art, and am touched beyond everything by its noble simplicity and its unaffected directness, so the _Roman_ or Napoleonic at its highest is antipathetic to me--I had almost said disgusting. The two compositions are intended for a large court (where there are objects from all parts of the world and of all epochs); they will not, however, stand _near_, but opposite to one another. The figures will be life-size, the foremost ones almost colossal. The "Arts of Peace" I transported to Greece, partly out of sympathy, and partly on account of the special beauty of the Greek ceramic and jewel work; the conduct of arms seemed to me to find its highest expression in mediaeval Italy, and I gladly seized this opportunity to tread the old path again in which my feet now so seldom wander.

If you really believe that my old friends in Frankfurt will be interested in these works, I shall be extremely pleased if you will put them in the Gallery; I wish only one thing, namely, that it may be made quite clear to the spectator that they are merely _cartoons_; their entire lack of effect would otherwise be surprising.

But the Pinta, of which you write, haunts my mind! If I had only time to run over myself!--but it is impossible.

Once more heartiest greetings, from your devoted pupil,

FRED LEIGHTON.

The Prince Consort, I believe, first conceived the idea of decorating spaces on the walls of the Victoria and Albert Museum with frescoes, as a memorial of the nation's gratitude on the close of the Crimean War, and mentioned the subject to Leighton. It was not, however, till 1868 that Sir Henry Cole approached him officially on the subject in the following letter:--

_July 14, 1868._

SIR,--The Lords of the Committee of Council on Education having had under their consideration the subject of the permanent decoration of the lunettes at the ends of the South Court of the South Kensington Museum, have directed me to inquire if it would be agreeable to you to undertake to execute a picture for one of these lunettes, for which lunette their Lordships would be prepared to authorise a payment of L1000, it being understood that all rights of copying the work belong to the Department.

When the court is completed, there will be four lunettes of a similar size. At the present time, however, there are only two spaces actually ready; and should you be willing to accept the commission now offered to you, your picture would be placed in one of these two finished lunettes. Mr. Watts, R.A., has been asked to execute a similar commission for the second lunette; and, in order that the works may have a certain symmetry in respect of the scale of the figures, &c., it would be desirable that you should place yourself into communication with him.--I am, Sir, your obedient servant,

HENRY COLE.

[Illustration: STUDY FOR GROUP IN "THE ARTS OF PEACE," Victoria and Albert Museum. 1873 Leighton House Collection]

[Illustration: FIRST SKETCH FOR FIGURE OF CIMABUE Carried out in Mosaic in the Victoria and Albert Museum, 1868]

[Illustration: ORIGINAL SKETCH FOR THE FIGURE OF NICCOLA PISANO Carried out in Mosaic in the Victoria and Albert Museum, 1868]

Watts was not prepared to accept the commission to execute one of the frescoes, being already immersed in work which absorbed his whole time and attention. He did, however, accept the commission to make a cartoon for the figure of Titian to be worked in mosaic in one of the spaces which form a kind of frieze along the side of the Southern Court. Leighton, besides agreeing finally to paint frescoes on the lunettes at each end of the court, made cartoons in 1868 for two of these side spaces, one of the figure of Cimabue, the other of Niccolo Pisano. Sketches for these are in the Leighton House Collection. (See List of Illustrations.)

A controversy took place between Leighton and Sir Henry Cole respecting the question whether these figures were to be treated pictorially or decoratively, whether the background was to be of plain gold mosaic or whether there were to be objects depicted in perspective behind the figures. The following part of a letter from Leighton concluded the agreement.

I submit that I have given reasons _why_ the figures under discussion should not be pictures, and that you, on the other hand, have not put forward a single reason why, a single principle on which they _should_ be pictures. You have contented yourself with adducing some precedents; as the question, however, is entirely one of principles, precedent alone means nothing, one way or another; if it were not so, I should have opposed to you cases in which the, to my mind, sounder principle is observed.

Raphael's ceiling in the Vatican, for instance--an example you will scarcely cavil at. There is not in the whole range of art a single aberration that cannot be endorsed with some good name. To glance once more at the principle: whether the gold behind the figures be in effect the background of flat, or whether it be, as you hold, "essentially something round"; whether or not it be this, as I certainly assert, the wall throughout the decoration, it is unanswerably a conventional _abstraction_, it represents no concrete object, and as an _abstraction_ is incompatible with any perspective representations of solid objects, which presuppose space and distance--everything that is on the _same_ plane as the figure is submitted to the same conditions, hence any accessory on the pedestal is admissible; everything _beyond_ the pedestal is part of the background, which may be abstract or concrete, as you please, but _cannot_ logically be _both_.

I am the first to admit and admire the intimate connection which existed formerly between architecture and painting: to say "architecture and pictures," is to beg the whole question. In condemning the loose practice of modern times, you cannot propose upholding for admiration the mere fact that in old times picture and wall were sometimes one, but no doubt allude with just admiration to the harmony existing between them, in the best examples, and to the wise adaptation of the one to the other. You, I submit, are attacking and attempting to subvert the very principles on which this harmony rests; my sole desire is to assert and defend them, and I earnestly desire that, actuated, as I am entirely convinced you are, more by the desire to forward the truth than to triumph in argument, the views I have put before you may eventually commend themselves to you, and deter you from further encouraging a practice which may be supported by precedent, but cannot be made tenable in theory.

In the autumn of 1873 Leighton visited Damascus, where he made studies for the picture exhibited in the 1874 Academy, "Old Damascus--Jews' Quarter,"[53] and a fine sketch of the interior of the Grand Mosque which he enlarged into a picture 62 x 49 inches, and exhibited in 1875. He also made a remarkable moonlight study preserved in the Leighton House Collection.

"One afternoon, late in the autumn of 1872," wrote Dr. William Wright, "I was on the roof of my house trying to cool after a long ride in the sun, when there came a loud knock at my door; the latch was lifted, and presently a resplendent kavass mounted to my platform. He explained to me that a noble Englishman was coming up to see me, and with that Frederic Leighton skipped gaily up the steps. After a courteous greeting and apology, he sat down and became silent, absolutely wrapped up in the pageantry of the sky. When I excused myself for the lapse of the time, he looked at me, and said quietly, 'No artist ever wasted time in accurately observing natural phenomena,' and added, 'That sunset will mix with my paint, and will tint your ink as long as either of us lives. It will never be over, it has dyed our spirits in colours which can never be washed out.'"

To his father he wrote:--

DAMASCUS, _October 18, 1873_.

DEAR PAPA,--I find that I am not as completely cut off from the western world here as I have been led to believe I was, and that boats leave Damascus for Alexandria weekly, and not fortnightly, as I told you in my hasty line of the other day; although, therefore, you are no longer uneasy about my health, I will not defer till the later boat thanking you for your welcome letter which reached me two or three days ago. I am much shocked and concerned to hear of the death of my poor friend Benson, for which I was in no way prepared, the last accounts I had received before leaving England being of a decidedly hopeful nature. A kinder heart never beat than his, and I felt really attached to him; he is a great loss to me. And now to tell you about myself. Three tedious days on board a Russian boat which tossed and rolled like a cork over a sea on which a P. and O. would have been motionless, brought me to Beyrout, a cheery, picturesque, sunny port at the foot of Lebanon; gay and glad I was to land, and Andrea's cool, clean inn overlooking the sea was a delightful haven of rest, and my first meal at a steady table (or a real chair) was ambrosial. Being in a hurry to get to the end of my journey, I did not stay more than half a day, but started by diligence for Damascus, a journey of some thirteen hours, first over Lebanon itself (which is fine, but by no means grand as I had hoped), then across the Valley of Coelesyria, and lastly over Antilebanon, at the foot of which the town lies. At the last relay I found waiting for me a horse and dragoman, for which and whom I had telegraphed in order that I might get the famous view of Damascus about which travellers have told wonders from time immemorial, and which is only to be seen from a bridle path over the hill above the suburb of Sala'aijeh; unfortunately the days are getting short, and I did not reach the proper spot till just after sunset; not too late, however, to enjoy the marvellous prospect before me, and to feel that it is worthy of all that has been said in its praise. It is impossible to conceive anything more startling than the suddenness with which, emerging from a narrow and absolutely barren cleft in the rock, you see spread before your eyes and at your feet a dense mass of exuberant trees spreading for miles on to the plain which looks towards Palmyra, and, rising white in the midst of it, the Damascus of the thousand and one nights. It is a great and a rare thing for an old traveller not to be disappointed, and I am grateful that it has been so with me this time. About the town _itself_--as seen, I mean, _from within_--I have a mixed feeling. In some respects it equals all my hopes, or at least in one respect; in others it falls short of them. I have remarked that to be prepared for disappointment never in the slightest degree deadens the blow, and, accordingly, although I have both read and been told to my heart's content that I should find the streets unpicturesque and without character, relatively of course (relatively say, to Cairo, not to Baker Street), I was, nevertheless, depressed and in a way surprised to find them so. Of course, there are, as in every Eastern town, numberless delightful bits, and those ennobled as regularly as the day comes by a right royal sun and canopy of blue, yet in the main, Cairo and, in a very different way, Algiers, are far more brilliant, and by-the-bye although you see here an extraordinary variety of costumes from the remotest corners of the East (I have met Indians in the streets), a group of Algerine Bedouins in their stately white robes is worth a whole bazaar full of the peasants and pilgrims that throng Damascus. Then in architecture, Damascus falls far behind Cairo, both for abundance and beauty of its specimens. Its background, too, Antilebanon, is unsatisfactory, humpy and without power of character or beauty of line, such as makes the Red Mountains on the skirt of the Cairene desert so delightful. Here then are the shortcomings; but I have my compensation in the houses, the old houses of which some few are standing, though grey and perishing, and which are still lovely to enchantment. I can't hope to convey to you in writing any idea of this loveliness, and it is not within the scope of sketching (though I am doing one or two little corners), but I am having three or four photographs made (for there are none!) from which you will be able to gather something of their charm. They cannot, however, give you the splendour of the light, and the fanciful delicacy of the colour in the open courts, or the intense and fantastic gorgeousness of the interior. Indeed I shall probably not attempt the latter, and though you will see lemon and myrtle trees rising tall and slim out of the marble floors and bending over tanks of running water, you will miss the vivid sparkling of the leaves, and you will not hear the unceasing song of the bubbling fountains. I wish I could report that I am doing much work. I am doing some, and think I see my way to one or two pot-boilers (the fatal, inevitable pot-boilers!); but distances here are great, and so is the heat, and there is not much that is within the compass of _sketching_, though there is endless paintable material. I am doing a bit in the great mosque, which is very delightful to me, in colour, and, if I can render it, may strike others in the same way. I am having the spot photographed in case I try to make a picture of it. The second p.-b. would probably be some unambitious corner of a court with a figure or two, _et voila_. It is late and I am sleepy, so good-night and good-bye. I wish you gave me a brighter account of Lina; give her too my best love. It was hardly worth while, by-the-bye, to have my letters forwarded. I shall only get them, if at all, just before leaving Damascus next week! I fear I can't get back to England till end of third week in November.--Your affectionate son,

FRED.

In the autumn of 1877 Leighton revisited Spain. A letter dated September 21, 1877, Madrid, in which Leighton answers certain questions asked by Mrs. Mark Pattison concerning art galleries and dealers, ends with the following sentence:--

Thank you for what you tell me about Puvis de Chavannes' work. I admire the designs for Ste. Genevieve hugely, and am altogether an _aficionado_ of that odd, incomplete, but refined and poetic painter; but for emptiness of modelling he seeks his peer in vain. I am seeing Velasquez again for the third time; this is the place in which to see him in all his splendour, and in all his nakedness--but that would be a chapter, and not a hasty note.--Very truly yours,

FRED LEIGHTON.

From Spain Leighton crossed to Tangiers, whence he wrote:--

TANGIERS, _October 4, 1877_.

MY DEAR PAPA,--You are probably not a little surprised at the superscription of this letter; so am I. It was a sudden and a happy thought that brought me here. I reflected that, whilst I had long wished to see Tangiers, I should not very probably come to Spain again, and should therefore not have another chance of visiting Morocco without a journey made on purpose. The run from Gibraltar is only four hours, and I wonder the trip did not form part of my original scheme. It will have one drawback for me, that I shall get to Granada a few days later, and be by so much the longer in getting news from England; but my journey will not be prolonged on the whole, as I shall endeavour to cut off at the end what I put on now. I the more owe myself what enjoyment I can get here, that as I told you--did I not?--in my last, my journey has been hitherto rather a dismal failure. I told you how vile the weather was in Madrid, so that all technical study of the pictures was out of the question. Well this is, since then, the first perfectly fine afternoon we have had. Observe, I only say afternoon, for it poured in the morning, and the phenomenon of a wholly bright day has still to come. I am also still further in arrears of enjoyment from the fact that I got rather out of order, God knows why, the day I went to Toledo, to the utter spoiling of what should have been one of my most delightful trips, and am only now pulling round again, having called in AEsculapius (at 2 dollars a consultation), whilst at Gibraltar. An attack of this nature is simply fatal to any real pleasure on one's journey, and, coming on the top of dark weather and the contretemps just as the closing of the Alcazar in Seville (one of the things I especially wanted to see) made rather an absurd failure of the whole thing. At Seville I was fool enough to go again to a bull-fight, and was so disgusted that I got up and went away when the performance was only half over. Meanwhile the aspect of the arena itself, with the Cathedral and its marvellous tower rising just above into the sky, is a very striking sight, and one I should regret to have missed. The processional entry, too, of the whole of the performers--picadors, capeodors, espadas, &c. &c.--is very picturesque and stately. It is when the goring and torturing begins that the sight is revolting; and the enormous popularity of this form of sport with a nation, not, that I am aware of, exceptionally cruel, only shows how easily our worst instincts stifle our better nature, such as it is.

This is a prodigiously picturesque place, and I enjoy more than I can say watching the Arabs swarming up the streets and markets, stately and grand in their picturesqueness beyond any population that I know, and particularly instructive and valuable to an artist from the sculpturesque _definiteness_ of their forms. The Jewish women here are said (by Ford) to be prodigiously handsome. I have seen no Rebeccas amongst them yet. I have not yet opened my box, and shall at best do little or nothing; I have no time. Next week I shall be in Granada, from where I hope to have to acknowledge a letter dated in Kensington Park Gardens. Meanwhile I am, with best love to Lina and yourself,--Yours affectionately,

FRED.

GRANADA, _October 19, 1877_.

MY DEAR PAPA,--To-morrow is my last day in Granada. On Sunday I turn my face Londonward, and my holiday will be pretty nearly at an end, as I have, from want of time, given up my original intention of seeing Valencia, Alicante, Tarragona, &c. &c. Travelling in Spain is so infinitely slower than I had remembered it, and so ideally inconvenient in regard to hours of starting and arriving, that my programme has altogether undergone considerable modifications. I reached this place a good week later than I expected, and I did not get your letter till some days later yet, owing, I suppose, to the difficulty experienced by the postal authorities in the art of reading. This will account to you for the time that will have elapsed between your receipt of my two epistles. I am truly sorry to hear that poor Lina is below par; tell her so, with my love. As you do not speak of yourself, I presume that you are in good form, and am glad to hear it. There is one passage in your letter which suggests to me a strong protest. I think it preposterous that the ambulant spinsters, or otherwise, with whom you foregather on your journeys, should expect _you_ to furnish them with photos of your "celebrated son." I like enthusiasm; but _genuine_ enthusiasm does not halt at a shilling, which is the sum for which my effigy is obtainable in the public market; _verb. sap._ I will not describe to you Toledo, Cordova, Seville, Granada, &c. (under which heads see Murray's guide-book). I have done so before (probably), and they have altered less than I, with the exception, perhaps, of Granada, or rather the Alhambra, which, alas! is changed indeed, thanks to the restoring mania, and is now all but brand new. I ought, perhaps, to remark that the changes in _me_ are not precisely in that direction. Taking a bird's-eye view of my holiday, I don't think I should call it altogether a success, though I have had many very delightful moments, and have seen many very beautiful things; but, in the first place, I have failed to fulfil one of the special objects of my trip, that, namely, of making a few sketches of sky effects, particularly seaside skies, which I sorely want for my picture of the girls and the skein of worsted. I have not done so, because I have not _once_ seen anything even resembling the skies I mean, and which are generally forthcoming at this season. The weather has indeed of late been fine, often if not always, and here even, at times, superb; but it is the before the rains, and not, as it should be, the clear, keen, autumn weather, after the air has been well swept and purged by the equinoctial broom and pail, which I had a right to demand of a Mediterranean October. This is a great disappointment. I did not want to _work_, and God knows I have not (five little sketches in all!); but just this document I did peremptorily require. In the second place, I have been rather seedy (am all right now), not very, but enough to poison my pleasure; and just so much that, after two or three little amateur attempts (local apothecary, fellow-travellers, &c. &c.), I thought it right (at Gibraltar) to see a doctor, not _because_ I was ill, but _lest_ I should get worse and develop more serious symptoms, as internal disturbance occasionally does in hot countries. In a few days (and two large bottles of physic) I was much better, and am now, I repeat, quite "myself" again.

But I perceive that this uninteresting twaddle has filled my paper, and barely left me space to tell that I have been to Africa, and shall be home on the 28th (evening). Yes, to Africa; Tangiers in four hours' steam from Gibraltar, and a most picturesque spot, of which more when we meet. On my way home I shall spend part of a day in Madrid, in the hopes of seeing the pictures this time. On my road through France I shall make a short break at Poitiers. _A bientot._--Affectionate son,

FRED.

During the nine years that Leighton was a Royal Academician he worked most energetically in many directions towards establishing the principles which he considered sound and essential to the growth of the best Art instincts in England. He was one of the Professional Examiners in Art from 1866 to 1875 at the Victoria and Albert Museum. In 1884 he became one of the Art Referees for the Museum, and was consulted by Sir Henry Cole to a considerable extent. He aided, as far as lay in his power, all Art Societies to expand and to grow on the lines of Catholicity. He was a member of the Committee of the Society of Dilettanti, for the purpose of obtaining information as to the probable success of renewed search for monuments of Greek Art. The following extract from a report proves what an active part he took in the business of the society:--

"In the autumn of the same year two hundred cases of inscriptions and sculptures from Priene were transported from Priene to Smyrna, and thence conveyed to England in H.M.S. _Antelope_. In March 1870 the society presented these marbles to the trustees of the British Museum. In May 1870 the committee, then consisting of Earl Somers, Lord Houghton, Mr. Watkiss Lloyd, Mr. Penrose, Mr. Cartwright, Mr. Leighton, and Mr. Newton, held several meetings. The committee at their meetings went carefully over all the drawings and details obtained by the society of the Temple of Bacchus at Teos, Apollo Smintheus, and Minerva Polias at Priene; they were of opinion that they would form an interesting and valuable publication, and should be proceeded with as soon as possible, and executed in a style worthy of the former productions of the society. Mr. Leighton offered to redraw the sculpture on some of the friezes, and Lord Somers to prepare the landscape illustrations."

In 1871 the President of the Artist Benevolent Fund, Mr. J.K. Kempton Hope, wrote to Leighton: "I am peculiarly proud that the first act which I have to perform in my new character is to say how honoured and grateful we all should be if you would kindly consent to accept the position of Vice-President."

The following letter to his father announces that Leighton had been elected President of the International Jury of Painting, Paris Exhibition, 1878:--

HOTEL WESTMINSTER, 1878, _Friday_.

DEAR PAPA,--I have been waiting to write till I should have something to say beyond the fact that the weather is odious, and shows no signs of relenting. On Saturday afternoon we had our meeting of the Royal Commissioners, which had for its object the hearing of an address from the Prince of Wales. On Monday morning the _whole_ International Jury (some six hundred or seven hundred members) met at the Ministere de Commerce, and was little more than formal. _To-day_ the group of sections which are concerned with Art held its first meeting under the presidency of Signor Tullio Massarani, an Italian, with Meissonier as Vice-President, the chief object of the meeting being to inform the various sections of the groups whom the Minister had appointed as their respective presidents. My section, composed of forty members, is _Paintings and Drawings_; there are twenty Frenchmen--nearly all the first artists of the country, in fact--and you will be surprised and very much gratified to learn that I was named president of this section--a very high honour, of course, and one of which I am extremely sensible, but which we must not misinterpret; it is, of course, only by an act of international courtesy that the French placed a foreigner at the head of their section, and amongst the other foreign artists there were few names of much weight or standing; still, it is a courtesy which will, I am sure, give you pleasure. Our section being thus constituted, we then appointed our own _vice_-president, reporter, and secretary; they were unanimously elected; the first was my old friend, Robert Fleury; the second was Emile de Savelege, the Belgian writer whom you know of; and the third an old and kind friend of mine, Maurice Cottier, a man much mixed up in the official artistic world and possessing a magnificent picture gallery. To-morrow we begin our labours at the Exhibition, and in the afternoon I shall go to the _seance_ of the _Institut_, which always takes place on Saturdays. This is my budget.

Perhaps the most important work inside the Academy which Leighton effected during this time was that of establishing the winter exhibitions of Old Masters at Burlington House. No one exemplified practically better than did Leighton the value of the motto, "What is worth having is worth sharing." He had been fed from early youth from the fountain-heads of Art, and one of his first objects after being elected a member of the Royal Academy was to endeavour to secure the same inspiring stimulus for students which he had himself imbibed from the work of the greatest men. He told me also that his chief object in making conscientious studies in colour when he travelled, was to endeavour to convey to students who were not able to go abroad some idea of the varieties in the aspects of nature found in different countries. Leighton was much appreciated in London society, but the _intimes_ of the old Roman days remained still the nucleus of his friendships; also every year he tried to find himself in his beloved Italy, and he generally succeeded. From his old friend Lady William Russell, mother of Odo Russell (afterwards Lord Ampthill and Leighton's ally in Rome), and Arthur Russell--the notable lady whose charm attracted to her _salon_ all that was most interesting among the magnates of Europe--two notes record her affection for Leighton and the death of Henry Greville in 1872, the severest blow which Leighton had sustained since the death of his mother.

I was in hopes of seeing you, to thank you _viva voce_ for the _ambrosia_ you sent me from Italy. I did _not_ write during your pictorial tour, not exactly knowing _where_ you might be. It was, _and is_, for I have some still, _excellent_; Paolo Veronese did not eat any better, nor Titian, nor any of your _Brethren in Apollo_.

_Guido_ you _are_--the English Guido--but _not_ "da Polenta"; I will _not_ accept that "terre a terre" denomination. I now thank you most gratefully--it was one of the seven works of mercy, for I really could not eat and was _starving_. The Indian cornflour was a _renovation_. If ever you can make up your mind to pay a visit to una povera vealisa--zoppa--sorda--brutta and seccante, and forget "_Aurora_," I shall be charmed. But I know that your time is better employed; so a million of thanks, and as many regrets not to be able to see your _marvels_ of which I hear.--Believe me, most sincerely your obliged Serva and Amica,

E.A.R. 2 AUDLEY SQUARE MAYFAIR, W. _Sunday, 26th November 1871_.

DEAR GUIDO (but _not_ of Polenta),--I have been quite _mortified_ at your neglect of me, and invoked the muses in vain! and call'd on the ghosts of Titian and Raffael, but they did not heed my sighs! I am always glad to see you, and wish I could _see your works_! All my cotemporaries and comrades are dying off, and I _cannot_ last long--so come to my "Evenings at Home" when you dine in my "Quartier" and are going to your club.

Alas! for dear Henry Greville! I knew him from his most early youth. _Both_ his parents were my _early_ friends from _my_ youth, and his elder brother my cotemporary.

Come! Benvenuto Cellini--venite!

_Monday, February 1873._

Leighton's passion for music led him to encourage all that was best in instrumental as well as in vocal performance. The Monday Popular Concerts were started by Messrs. Chappell in 1859, the first being given on the 3rd January. From their commencement Leighton was a subscriber, and very rarely missed being present.

It was in the 'seventies that Leighton instituted those yearly feasts of music, which were among the real treats of the year.[54] His dear friend Joachim was to the end the _piece de resistance_ of these gatherings. Never did the Great Master seem so inspired as when he played in that studio. Leighton wrote to his sister, Mrs. Matthews, April 1871:--

DEAREST GUSSY,--You heard, no doubt, that I gave a party the other day, and that it went off well. To me perhaps the most striking thing of the evening was Joachim's playing of Bach's "Chacone" up in my gallery. I was at the other end of the room, and the effect from the distance of the dark figure in the uncertain light up there, and barely relieved from the gold background and dark recess, struck me as one of the most poetic and fascinating things that I remember. At the opposite end of the room in the apse was a blazing crimson rhododendron tree, which looked glorious where it reached up into the golden semi-dome. Madame Viardot sang the "Divinites du Styx," from the "Alcestis," quite magnificently, and then, later in the evening, a composition of her own in which I delight--a Spanish-Arab ditty, with a sort of intermittent mandoline scraping accompaniment. It is the complaint of some forsaken woman, and wanders and quavers in a doleful sort of way that calls up to me in a startling manner visions and memories of Cadiz and Cordova, and sunny distant lands that smell of jasmine. A little Miss Brandes, a pupil of Madame Schumann, played too. She is full of talent and promise, and has had an immense success. Mme. Joachim sang "Mignon" (Beethoven) excellently.

[Illustration: Sketch executed on the spot by Mr. Theodore Blake Wirgman of their Majesties the King and Queen attending a Popular Concert in St. James's Hall, Lord Leighton being one of the Royal party. About 1893.]

Mrs. Watts Hughes writes the following notes relating to those years of the 'seventies:--

I remember the incident you refer to at Eton College. The _Orfeo_ performance was given by the Eton boys, who had formed a society among themselves with the view of making acquaintance with the music of the great masters. I took the part of _Orfeo_, and a niece of Darwin's, Miss Wedgwood, who is now Lady Farrer, sang Euridice's part. I believe Lord Leighton sang in some of the quartettes and choruses. I often met Lord Leighton at Mrs. Sartoris' musical gatherings at her house in Park Place, St. James', when he would sing very heartily the tenor parts of the old madrigals, in which also Mrs. Douglas Freshfield, Miss Ritchie, and others took part with Mrs. Sartoris, who on some occasions would sing one of her great operatic _Arias_ which brought her so much fame in her former years.

In 1877 Leighton began to build the famous Arab Hall.[55]

The following letters from Sir Richard Burton refer to the collecting and sending of one instalment of the precious tiles:--

DAMASCUS, _March 22, 1871_.

DEAR MR. LEIGHTON,--I have just returned from a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, or yours of April 14th, 1871, would not have remained so long unanswered. And now to business. I am quite as willing to have a house pulled down for you now as when at Vichy,[56] but the difficulty is to find a house with tiles. The _bric-a-brac_ sellers have quite learned their value, and demand extravagant sums for poor articles. Of course you want good old specimens, and these are waxing very rare. My friends, Drake and Palmer, were lucky enough, when at Jerusalem, to nobble a score or so from the so-called Mosque of Omar. Large stores are there found, but unhappily under charge of the Wakf, and I fancy that long payments would be required. However, I shall send your letter to my colleague, Moore, who will do what he can for you. The fact is, it is a work of patience. My wife and I will keep a sharp look-out for you, and buy up as many as we can find which seem to answer your description. If native inscriptions--white or blue, for instance--are to be had, I shall secure them, but not if imperfect. Some clearing away of rubbish is expected at Damascus; the Englishman who superintends is a friend of mine, and I shall not neglect to get from him as much as possible.

We met Holman Hunt at Jerusalem; he was looking a little worn, like a veritable denizen of the Holy City. I hope that you have quite recovered health. Swinburne, the papers say, has been sick; his "Songs before Sunrise" show even more genius than "Poems and Ballads." What has become of Mrs. Sartoris? I saw her son's appointment in the papers. Poor Vichy must be quite ruined--veritably it was a Cockney hole. Syria is a poor Chili; the Libanus is a mole-hill compared with the Andes--do you remember? I am planning a realistic book which has no Holy Land on the brain, and the public will curse her like our army in Flanders. Pilgrims see everything through a peculiar medium, and tourists shake hands (like madmen) when they sight the Plain of Esdraelon or Sharon, as the case may be.

_N.B._--Both plains are like the poorer parts of our midland counties. My wife joins in kind remembrances.--Ever yours sincerely,

RICHARD F. BURTON.

[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF SIR RICHARD BURTON, K.C.M.G. 1876]

TRIESTE, _July 13, 1876_.

MY DEAR LEIGHTON,--One word to say that the tiles are packed, and will be sent by the first London steamer--opportunities are rare here. Some are perfect, many are broken; but they will make a bit of mosaic after a little trimming, and illustrate the difference between Syriac and Sindi. They are taken from the tomb (Moslem) of Sakhar, on the Indus. I can give you analysis of glaze if you want it; but I fancy you don't care for analyses. The yellow colour is by far the rarest and least durable apparently. The blues are the favourites and the best.

Here we are living in a typhoon of lies. I am losing patience, and shall probably bolt to Belgrade in search of truth. Austria is behaving in her usual currish manner, allowing her policy to be managed by a minority of light-headed, Paddy-whack Magyars and pudding-headed, beer-brained Austro-Germans. How all Europe funks the Slavs, and how well the latter are beginning to know it.

Very grand of _la grande Bretagne_ to propose occupying Egypt without any army to speak of. Sorry that you don't understand the force of the expression, the "world generally," but will try some time or other to make it clear. United best regards and wishes. Why don't you take a holiday to Turkey?--Ever yours,

R.F. BURTON.

_P.S._--I hear that W. Wright has subsided into an Irish conventicle, and that Green doesn't like prospect of returning to Dan!

The construction of this thing of beauty, the Arab Hall, is a visible and permanent proof of the side in Leighton's artistic endowments which are so rarely found in northern, or indeed any modern nations, and the want of which are gradually leading our world into being very ugly--namely, the sense of the appropriate, of balance, of proportion, and of harmony in the construction and decoration of buildings. As an adherent of the pre-Raphaelites, William Morris had been battling with this tasteless condition of things for some years--strenuously working to counteract the unmeaning adaptations of foreign designs of all times and of all countries into English work, and the general muddledom into which the decoration in the surroundings of domestic life had fallen, by starting afresh on the lines of simple good designs of English pre-Puritan days. Leighton's taste had been inspired, in the first instance, by the crafts as well as by the art of Italy. Subsequently, the East had fascinated him. He admired greatly the frank, courageous beauty in the colouring of the decorations of her buildings; but, having an acute sense of the appropriate, he felt that they would not harmonise successfully with the necessary surroundings of English domestic life. He was therefore inspired to erect a special shrine for his collection of enamels. It has been truly said that the Arab Hall is as notable a creation in Art as any of Leighton's pictures or statues. The beauty of its effect is greatly enhanced by the arrangement of light and shade which leads on to the wonderfully beautiful casket of treasures. Monsieur Choisy, the distinguished French architect, wrote as follows in the _Times_ of April 27, 1896, when advocating the preservation of this house for the public: "Nowhere have I found in an architectural monument a happier gradation of effects, nor a more complete knowledge of the play of light. The entrance to the house is by a plain hall that leads to a '_patio_' lit from the sky, where enamels shine brilliantly in the full light; from this 'patio' one passes into a twilight corridor, where enamel and gold detach themselves from an architectural ground of richness somewhat severe; it is a transition which prepares the eye for a jewel of Oriental Art, where the most brilliant productions of the Persian potter are set in architectural frame inspired by Arab Art, but treated freely; the harmony is so perfect that one asks oneself if the architecture has been conceived for the enamels, or the enamels for the hall. This gradation, perhaps unique in contemporary architecture, was Leighton's idea; and the illustrious painter found in his old friend Mr. G. Aitchison, who built his house, a worthy interpreter of his fine conception. This hall, where colour is triumphant, was dear to Leighton, and even forms the background to some of his pictures. Towards the end of his life he still meant to embellish it by substituting marble for that small part that was only painted. The generous employment of his fortune alone prevented him from realising his intention.

"England has at all times given the example of honouring great men; she will, I am sure, find the means of preserving for Art a monument of which she has such reason to be proud."[57]

[Illustration: VIEW OF ARAB HALL. 1906]

FOOTNOTES:

[42] In the Leighton House Collection is a splendid study for the wrestling figure of Heracles, also for the recumbent Alcestis, and the drapery for the phantom figure of Death. The figure of Heracles, fine as it is in the picture, lacks somewhat of the ardent quality in the

## action of the sketch. Owing to the public-spirited generosity of its

owner, the late Right Hon. Sir Bernhard Samuelson, this picture has travelled all over the world for exhibition. It was also lent to Leighton House for more than a year in 1901.

[43] In the Leighton House Collection is a head in oils (presented by the late Alfred Waterhouse, R.A.) which Leighton painted actually by moonlight in Rome, as a study for one of the figures in "Summer Moon." See List of Illustrations.

[44] See study for picture in Leighton House Collection.

[45] Leighton had a cast made of this, and his copy is still in the collection in his house. Another copy he gave to Watts, who admired it beyond measure. Watts recounted to me that so preciously did he value it, that, not daring to expose it to the danger of housemaids' dusting, he carefully wrapped it up in handkerchiefs and put it in a drawer. One day, alas! forgetting it was there, in a hurry, he pulled the bundle of handkerchiefs out; it fell to the floor and was smashed.

[46] _The Athenaeum_ described the work when it appeared. "There is the grandeur of Greek tragedy in Mr. Leighton's 'Clytemnestra watching for the signal of her husband's return from Troy.' The time is deep in the fateful night, while the city sleeps; moonlight floods the walls, the roofs, the gates, and the towers with a ghastly glare, which seems presageful, and casts shadows as dark as they are mysterious and terrible. The dense blue of the sky is dim, sad, and ominous. But the most ominous and impressive element of the picture is a grim figure--the tall woman on the palace roof before us, who looks Titanic in her stateliness, and huge beyond humanity in the voluminous white drapery that wraps her limbs and bosom. Her hands are clenched and her arms thrust down straight and rigidly, each finger locked as in a struggle to strangle its fellow; the muscles swell on the bulky limbs. Drawn erect and with set features, which are so pale that the moonlight could not make them paler, the queen stares fixedly and yet eagerly into the distance, as if she had the will to look over the very edge of the world for the light to come."

[47] The Hon. Mrs. Grenfell.

[48] Purchased by the trustees of the Chantrey Bequest and placed in the Tate Gallery.

[49] Leighton gave this group to Watts, who expressed to me an unbounded admiration for it. "Nothing more beautiful has ever been done! Pheidias never did anything better. I believe it was better even than Pheidias!" were the words Watts used when deploring the fact that he had lent it to a sculptor to be cast--something had gone wrong in the process of casting, and it had been destroyed. When giving me the modelled sketch for the "Python," Watts said, "I am giving you the most beautiful thing I have in my place."

[50] The group of singing girls modelled as a study for "The Daphnephoria."

[51] See complete list in Appendix.

[52] The "Arts of War" lunette was commenced in 1870 and finished in 1880. The "Arts of Peace," begun in 1881, was completed in 1886. An account of these two frescoes appeared in the _Magazine of Art_ written by Mr. J. Ward, the master of the Macclesfield School of Art, who assisted Leighton in the work.

[53] In a letter from Mr. J.G. Hodgson, A.R.A., praises are bestowed on this picture and the "Moorish Garden" at the expense of "Clytemnestra" and the "Antique Juggling Girl." The letter is a good example of the criticisms which Leighton's serious work often received--that work in which, nevertheless, he was most true to himself. The ordinary English eye neither longed for nor appreciated Leighton's native Hellenic strain.

5 HILL ROAD, _Friday, April 4, 1874_.

MY DEAR LEIGHTON,--I was immensely delighted with your two pictures of the Jew's house and the Alhambra ("Moorish Garden: A Dream of Granada"). I was at the opera last night, but thought much less of Crispin and his Comara than of them; they are quite charming, and excite me with the desire of emulation, at that safe distance which is inherent in the nature of things. For your "Clytemnestra" and the other ("Antique Juggling Girl"), I, being a Philister, care nothing at all. From those to turn to these, seems like leaving a garden fragrant with roses and citron blossoms, where I hear the murmur of cooling streams, Abanah and Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, to enter a museum filled with dusty plaster casts.

After all, the woes of the house of Atreus are now of very little importance to mankind, or interest either. The most of the latter they possess, is that they serve as themes for some good Greek play, which had better have been burnt, as they have hampered the genius of modern Europe and taught us nothing. Had only Homer and the lyrics survived, we should have done better. At all events, if a man must illustrate, why does he not illustrate Shakespeare, a bigger man head and shoulders than any of the Greek tragedists? But it appears to me you are made for a much better and more intellectual purpose than illustrating anybody. You have the eye to see and power to represent what you see. You have special gifts and faculties highly trained. The aspect of nature, as it appears to such a mind, would be of the highest intellectual value to us, and would lead to progress. I don't think modern art differs from that of any other day. It has always been the effort to represent what is seen every day, bringing to bear upon the representation the greatest possible amount of culture, _i.e._ of reflection and selection. The women and that dear little girl in the courtyard of your Jew's house will outlive all the "Clytemnestras," &c.; they live with blood in their veins, the others are but galvanised corpses. There I have had it out; you must not complain, because you have had to apologise for slashing into me, and now it is my turn. In the prologue to Goethe's "Faust," if you remember, the poet, a stubborn fellow, has his notions of the high aim of his art. He will do nothing but what is extremely sublime, &c. The clown quite agrees that such things may possibly do for the future, but who, says he, is to amuse the present? I am that sort of clown, I suppose. Don't be riled, and believe me,--Very much your admiring friend,

J.G. HODGSON.

[54] Mr. William Spottiswoode wrote of one of these:--

"DEAR LEIGHTON,--Best of thanks from Mrs. Spottiswoode and myself for another of the happiest day-dreams of the year, viz. your afternoons at home."

[55] Mr. Aitchison, R.A., wrote: "During his visits to Rhodes, to Cairo, and Damascus, he made a large collection of lovely Saracenic tiles, and had besides bought two inscriptions, one of the most delicate colour and beautiful design, and the other sixteen feet long and strikingly magnificent, besides getting some panels, stained glass, and lattice-work from Damascus afterwards; these were fitted into an Arab Hall, something like La Zira at Palermo, in 1877."

The Arab Hall was begun November 1877, virtually completed by the end of 1879, but some small matters not till 1881. Materials--Bastard statuary, _i.e._ the marble columns in the angle recesses. These caps are of alabaster, designed by George Aitchison, R.A., and modelled by Sir E. Boehm. The large columns are of Caserta marble, caps of stone, birds modelled by Caldecott; column niches lined with Devonshire spar; dado, Irish black; string, Irish green, and bases of small columns. Those of the large columns are of Genoa green and Belgian blue; the marble lining behind big columns is of Pyrennean green, and the panel overhead; the lintel of Irish red. The marble work was done by White & Son, Vauxhall Bridge Road. Mosaic floor, designed by George Aitchison, R.A.; executed by Messrs. Burke & Co., who replaced fountain of white marble with the single slab of Belgian black. Chandelier, designed by G.A. Aitchison, R.A., executed by Forrest & Son, now extinct. The lattices to the lower part of the gallery designed by George Aitchison, R.A.

Sir Caspar P. Clarke wrote: "I was commissioned in 1876, by the authorities at South Kensington, to proceed to the East to buy artistic objects for the Museum. Before I started Leighton asked me, if I went to Damascus, to go to certain houses and try to effect the purchase of certain tiles. I had no difficulty in finding my market, for Leighton, with his customary precision, had accurately indicated every point about the dwellings concerned, and their treasures. I returned with a precious load, and in it some large family tiles, the two finest of which are built into the sides of the alcove of the Arab Hall. Leighton made no difficulty about the price, and insisted upon paying double what I had given. He never spoke of picking things up cheap, and scouted the idea of 'bargains in Art objects.'"

[56] Leighton, Sir Richard Burton, Algernon Swinburne, and Adelaide Sartoris passed some weeks together at Vichy in September 1869. Swinburne wrote in 1875: "We all owe so much to Leighton for the selection and intention of his subjects--always noble, always beautiful--and these are always worthy of a great and grave art."--"Essays and Studies," A.C. Swinburne.

[57] Letters from Lord and Lady Strangford to Leighton exist on matters concerning the East, on which both were great authorities.

"Will you accept," Lady Strangford wrote, "as a token of my admiration of your house, a piece of ancient Persian needlework? It is really old, and it is said that they no longer do anything of the kind in Persia, and that these pieces are valuable. I do not know if this is true or not, but _if_ you _like_ the thing, please use it among the many treasures you have already accumulated. It is to my eyes a nice bit of harmonious colouring. Let it say to you how much, how very much, I enjoyed your sketches.--Yours very truly,

E.A. STRANGFORD.

"_P.S._--I bought the work from a Persian at Antioch."

To Professor Church Mr. Aitchison wrote after Leighton's death: "I cannot urge the preservation of his home and surroundings, as I built the house, for there are always too many to attribute low motives to everybody, and it would be called personal advertisement; though when one's work is done it becomes almost impersonal, and if it did not, the fact remains the same, that here he (Leighton) lived and drew part of his culture and inspiration from his surroundings. As a mere matter of reverence, how many would come from all parts of the civilised world to see his abode!"

[Illustration: PROFESSOR GIOVANNI COSTA Painted at Lerici, October 1878]