CHAPTER V

WORK FROM 1854 TO 1857

Rossetti's work, during the earlier part of the period we have been

glancing through, was of a particularly interesting, and towards the

latter end of a sufficiently varied character. In range of subject

it belongs to the category described in Chapter III, with the

important addition that now for the first time is added to his

sources of romantic inspiration the "Morte Darthur" of Sir Thomas

Malory. This cycle of old Celtic legends had been for many years

practically a sealed book in England, and its popularity to-day is

largely owing to the interest revived in it by Rossetti, and later by

the famous group of Oxford friends, including William Morris and

Edward Burne-Jones. Rossetti had become acquainted with Malory by

1854, which is the date of that strange, sad little water-colour,

_King Arthur's Tomb_, representing, in an imaginary scene, Launcelot

bidding a last farewell to Guenevere. Apart from this Rossetti had

in hand a number of drawings which were continually put on one side

as fresh ideas crowded into his restless brain, and were often not

finished until many years later. The statement could easily be

verified, that many, if not most, of Rossetti's later pictures were

planned during these early strenuous years of his life, so that it is

not to be wondered at that the actual finished work of these early

years was sparse in quantity and slight in quality--much slighter,

for instance, than the two religious paintings with which he had

begun his career. On the other hand, for many people these little

water-colours of Rossetti's second period have a charm that nothing

in his larger and more elaborated later work can recall.

In the early part of 1854 Rossetti wrote to Ruskin that he was

occupied with ideas for three subjects, _Found_, _Mary Magdalene at

the Door of Simon_, and another which is not named, but which from

the context one may infer to have been the water-colour diptych of

_Paolo and Francesco da Rimini_. In August of the same year he wrote

that he was at work on a _Hamlet and Ophelia_, "deeply symbolical of

course," and predestined for the folio which Millais had presented,

and which was still supposed to be in circulation among the members

of a select sketching club. About the same time he submitted to

Ruskin two designs for _The Passover_, one of which was chosen to be

begun at once, while Ruskin also commissioned seven drawings from the

"Purgatorio," of which one certainly, _Matilda gathering Flowers_,

was very shortly put in hand. None of these undertakings saw the

light for at least another year; the _Hamlet_ not for four or five.

The _Matilda_ was finished first and delivered in September 1855, and

on the 2nd December Madox Brown records in his diary, _apropos_ Miss

Siddal being stranded in Paris without money, "Gabriel, who saw that

none of the drawings on the easel could be completed before long,

began a fresh one, _Francesca da Rimini_, in _three compartments_;

worked day and night, finished it in a week, got thirty-five guineas

for it from Ruskin, and started off to relieve them." This was the

earliest version of a subject that Rossetti returned to more than

once, representing in one compartment the lover's kiss, and in the

second their two souls floating clasped together in Hell through a

rain of pale sulphurous flames. Between the compartments are two

figures meant for Dante and Virgil, with the words "O Lasso!" Within

the same period, viz., by October, 1855, another Dante subject, _The

Vision of Rachel and Leah_, was taken up and completed.

_The Passover_ drawing, just referred to, is a small, unfinished

water-colour, in which once more Rossetti has treated the domestic

life of the Holy Family with a reverent freedom from conventionality,

such as Millais used in _The Carpenter's Shop_ and Holman Hunt in the

_Finding of Christ in the Temple_. _The Passover_ was one of

Rossetti's very earliest designs, having been sketched out first as

far back as 1849; it was the one selected for a memorial window to

Rossetti in the church at Birchington-on-Sea, where he was buried.

Other drawings which are dated, or were finished by 1855, though they

may have been in hand considerably earlier, are _The Nativity_, _La

Belle Dame sans Mercy_, and the _Annunciation_, all water-colours.

In the last-named the Virgin (done from Miss Siddal) is represented

washing clothes in a stream, whilst the angel Gabriel stands by with

folded wings, between two trees: both are in white, and the picture

shows a strong effect of sunlight.

In addition to the foregoing there must be chronicled under 1855 the

first of the important and beautiful designs for woodcuts, which in

the absence of his pictures were almost the only means afforded to

the public for many years of judging of Rossetti's work. This is a

drawing for a poem in William Allingham's "Day and Night Songs,"

called _The Maids of Elfen-Mere_. Allingham was employed in the

Customs in Ireland, and at the period in question, and for some years

after, Rossetti and he were very intimate, corresponding freely and

vivaciously on all topics concerning their circle.

In 1856 were completed the water-colours of _Dante's Dream_ and _Fra

Pace_. Mr. William Morris, who acquired several early water-colours

by Rossetti, was apparently the first purchaser of _Fra Pace_. The

picture represents a kneeling monk busy illuminating at a desk. He

has worked so long that the cat has coiled itself up asleep upon his

trailing robe. A youthful acolyte is tickling it with a straw in

order to beguile the tedium of the long silence. The drawing is

somewhat archaic in character and stiff in design, but it is

eminently characteristic of Rossetti, full of quaint conceits and

humour, from the row of little bottles that hold the good man's

pigments to the dead mouse he is copying and the split pomegranate

that lies uneaten by his side.

The _Dante's Dream_ above mentioned is the first, and in certain

points most beautiful, version of the subject which afterwards served

for Rossetti's largest picture, the one in the Walker Art Gallery at

Liverpool. The water-colour is somewhat squarer in shape, but the

composition and pose of the five figures are very much the same as in

the large Liverpool picture.

In March, 1856, Rossetti secured an important commission--judged by

the standard of his current work and prices--to paint a reredos in

three compartments for the cathedral of Llandaff, which John P.

Seddon was engaged in restoring. The subject he chose for this

undertaking was _The Seed of David_, showing in the centre-piece the

infant Christ on his mother's knee being adored by a shepherd and a

king, and on either side a single figure of David, first as a

shepherd-boy slinging the stone for Goliath, and secondly as a king

harping to the glory of God. The triptych was not completely

finished until 1864, and after that was considerably retouched in

1869, when Rossetti went down to Llandaff for the purpose.

The year 1856 (or, if we take the date of publication, 1857) deserves

commemoration as the year of the famous Moxon "Tennyson," for which

Rossetti designed no fewer than five illustrations.

Separate pen-and-ink drawings exist for most, if not for all, of

these Tennyson designs, and water-colours were afterwards painted

from three of them.

In point of number and interest the productions of 1857 are

remarkable. It was the year of the Oxford frescoes, for one thing,

though these dragged on till 1859; and it was the year of a charming

little series of water-colours, which were acquired one after the

other by Rossetti's newly-made acquaintance, William Morris, who,

some time later, being in want of capital for his own business, sold

them in a batch to their late possessor, Mr. George Rae. These

comprise:

(1) The _Damsel of the Sanc Grael_, robed in green, holding a

long-stemmed cup in her hand.

(2) _The Death of Breuse sans Pitié_, one of the crudest and least

successful of Rossetti's water-colours.

(3) _The Chapel before the Lists_, a scene suggested by Malory of a

lady helping to arm a kneeling knight, her long white head-dress, as

she stoops to kiss him, falling like a mantle down her blue dress.

Upon the pointed shield of the knight is a figure of a maiden in

distress. Beyond the chapel is a tented field, and knights going

forth to joust.

(4) _The Tune of Seven Towers_, a quaint little scene, very

characteristic of Rossetti's fertility and originality of invention.

A lady in red with mediaeval head-dress is sitting in a high oaken

chair, which above towers up into a sort of belfry, and is playing

upon a musical instrument which also forms part of the chair. A man

in green doublet, with long boots, sits sideways on a stool close by

watching her, and a second lady stands mournfully behind. A banner

hangs down at the right from a pole which cuts the picture diagonally

in half.

(5) _The Blue Closet_, illustrated and described elsewhere.

[Illustration: THE BLUE CLOSET.]

_The Wedding of St. George_, in the same collection, belongs to this

year, but was not acquired from Mr. Morris. The old story of St.

George and the Dragon had a powerful influence upon the romantic

school to which Rossetti belonged. Burne-Jones's variations upon it

are well known, and Rossetti also, besides treating it as a whole in

a series of designs for stained glass windows, painted St. George

more than once at typical stages of the adventure. In this earliest

version he is resting from his feat, clad in armour, with a gorgeous

surcoat, whilst the princess kneels and leans her head upon his

breast, cutting off a long dark lock of hair which she has bound upon

the crest of his helmet. The dragon's head, a monstrous object,

stands grotesquely in one corner in a box with ropes attached for

drawing it along. In the background is a hedge of flowers and

attendant angels playing on bells.

The artistic and romantic impulses stirring in England at the

midpoint of the century had, as we have seen, produced one notable

movement in the shape of the "Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood." Five or

six years later they gave rise to another, not less important, and

shortly afterwards a fusion of the two took place. The second of

these "Brotherhoods"--the word was actually adopted for a time--had

its origin at Exeter College, Oxford, in the personalities of William

Morris and Edward Burne-Jones, and resolved itself at first, like its

forerunner, into a "crusade and holy warfare against the age," with

an added religious tinge which was hardly visible in the other. The

Oxford group, like the "P.R.B.," published a magazine to illustrate,

not to preach, their principles, and had as a tangible link with

Rossetti the same warm appreciation of the beauties of the Arthurian

legend first introduced to their notice by Burne-Jones.

In the Christmas vacation of 1855 Burne-Jones came up to London, and

after attending a meeting of the Working Men's College in order to

see Rossetti, whom he and Morris had already begun to worship, he was

introduced to him at Vernon Lushington's rooms in Doctors' Commons.

The next day he visited Rossetti in his studio at Blackfriars, and

saw him working on _Fra Pace_. Thus was laid the foundation of an

alliance which even more potently than the "P.R.B." has changed the

face of art in England, and which resulted in the formation of a

group that for combined poetic, literary, and artistic power is

unapproached in the history of the nation. Incidentally, it was this

visit that determined Burne-Jones--hankering after art, but

predestined for the Church--to become a painter; and no one can fail

to be struck with the evidence of Rossetti's influence upon his early

work.

To the "Oxford and Cambridge Magazine," William Morris's organ, which

ran for the twelve months of 1856, Rossetti contributed "The Burden

of Nineveh," "The Blessed Damozel" (a little altered from the "Germ"

version), and "The Staff and Scrip."

By the end of 1856 Burne-Jones and Morris had left Oxford and were

settled in London, occupying the rooms at 17, Red Lion Square, which

had formerly served as a studio for Rossetti and Deverell. Both were

under the spell of Rossetti's influence. The _ménage_ at Red Lion

Square lasted till 1859, and was a rallying point for all members of

the circle. "From the incidents that occurred or were invented

there," says Mr. Mackail, "a sort of Book of the Hundred Merry Tales

gradually was formed, of which Morris was the central figure." The

rooms were "the quaintest in all London," as Burne-Jones wrote, "hung

with brasses of old knights and drawings of Albert Dürer"; and in

order to furnish them recourse had to be had to invention. A local

joiner was engaged to manufacture furniture from Morris's own

designs: "intensely mediaeval" was Rossetti's description of it to a

friend, "tables and chairs like incubi and succubi." Next came the

idea of painting pictures on walls, cupboards, and doors, about the

time that Morris was planning to build himself at Upton, in the

neighbourhood of Bexley Heath, a "palace of art" the like of which

should never have been seen. In the general enthusiasm Rossetti set

to and designed a pair of panels for a cabinet--the subject of his

early pen-and-ink drawing, _The Salutation of Beatrice_, representing

in two compartments Dante meeting Beatrice in Florence, and again in

Paradise.

At the risk of repetition, one may mention once more a side of the

movement which is apt to be overshadowed by its far-reaching results;

namely, the light-heartedness and sense of fun which prevailed

amongst this band of artistic pioneers. There was nothing of the

mawkish affectation which discredited the aesthetes who came after.

When Burne-Jones was down at Upton, helping to decorate the Red House

in 1860, Rossetti wrote to a mutual friend: "I wish you were in town,

to see you sometimes, for I literally see no one now except Madox

Brown pretty often, and even he is gone to join Morris, who is out of

reach at Upton, and with them is married Jones painting the inner

walls of the house that Top built (Morris was always called 'Topsy'

by his friends). But as for the neighbours, when they see men

pourtrayed by Jones upon the walls, the images of the Chaldeans

pourtrayed (by _him!_) in Extract Vermilion, exceeding all

probability in dyed attire upon their heads, after the manner of no

Babylonians of any Chaldea, the land of anyone's nativity--as soon as

they see them with their eyes, shall they not account him doting and

send messengers into Colney Hatch?"

During the long vacation of 1857 Rossetti went up to Oxford with

Morris on a visit to the architect, Benjamin Woodward, who was at

work upon a debating hall for the Union Society, and seeing an

opportunity for mural decoration of a kind never previously attempted

in England in the new hall of the Union, he became fired with an idea

for carrying it out. The hall was a long building, with an apse at

each end, and a gallery running all the way round. In this gallery

were bookcases, and above the cases were ten semi-circular bays, each

pierced with a pair of circular windows. These bays, it was

suggested, should be painted with scenes from the Arthurian legend,

and the roof, as part of the general scheme, was to be decorated in a

harmonious manner. A building committee was in charge of the

operations, and without any clear idea of its responsibilities or

restrictions it fell in with Rossetti's proposal that he and a select

band of artists should execute the work gratuitously, but that the

Union should defray their expenses at Oxford and should provide all

necessary materials. The time estimated for completing the work was

six weeks. Seven artists, including Rossetti, Burne-Jones, and

Morris, were enlisted without much trouble, the remaining four being

Arthur Hughes, Spencer Stanhope, Val Prinsep, and J. Hungerford

Pollen, who had already won much credit from his painting of the roof

in Merton College Chapel. Rossetti took as subjects for two bays

_Launcelot asleep before the Chapel of the Sanc Grael_ and _Sir

Galahad, Sir Bors and Sir Percival receiving the Sanc Grael_. The

others chose similar themes, but in a short time it was found that

the work in hand was considerably more than had been anticipated,

though abundant evidence remains of the enthusiasm which was put into

it.

Unfortunately the delight was not to be of long duration. Almost

before the pictures were finished they had begun to decay, the effect

of tempera laid direct upon a new brick wall, with no preparation but

a layer of whitewash, being quite inadequate to resist the English

climate. Several of the designs were never completed. In 1859 some

arrangement was entered into by the Union with a Mr. Riviere to fill

the three blank compartments; and after that the ill-fated

undertaking, on which so much pains and so much skill had been spent,

gradually faded away and resolved itself into what it is to-day, a

dingy blur of colours in which may be distinguished the occasional

vague form of an armoured limb or a patch of flowery background.

Rossetti's connection with Oxford, and its intercalation in his work,

does not end with the Union paintings. It was destined to furnish

him with a more lasting influence--a face that to the end of his life

haunted his pictures with an austere and solemn beauty, dominating

and transforming all other kinds, so as even to give rise to the

suggestion--a shallow and ignorant one, it is true--that he painted

but one type of face. It was at the theatre, one night in the summer

of 1857, that Rossetti and Burne-Jones found themselves sitting near

two youthful Misses Burden, daughters of an Oxford resident, the

elder of whom, by her striking features and wealth of dark wavy hair,

appealed so forcibly to Rossetti's painter eye that he obtained an

introduction in order to ask for sittings. A pen-and-ink head called

_Queen Guenevere_, now in the National Gallery at Dublin, and

evidently intended to replace the earlier studies done for _Launcelot

at the Shrine_, was one of the first fruits of this acquaintance,

which, for the rest, does not seem to have become really prolific of

results until several years later, when Rossetti's wife was dead. In

the meantime William Morris, whose admiration went even further, had

married Miss Burden, and the casual relationship of painter and

sitter which existed between her and Rossetti deepened into a

friendship, in which Miss Siddal participated, both up to and after

her marriage.

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