Transcriber’s Notes: Italicized text is surrounded by underscores:
_italics_.
[Illustration: (Christina Georgina Rossetti, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti)]
PRÆRAPHAELITE
DIARIES AND LETTERS
EDITED BY
WILLIAM MICHAEL ROSSETTI
I SOME EARLY CORRESPONDENCE OF DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI 1835-54
II MADOX BROWN’S DIARY ETC 1844-56
III THE P R B JOURNAL KEPT BY W M ROSSETTI 1849-53
ILLUSTRATED
_J’ai voulu tout simplement puiser dans l’entière connaissance de
la tradition le sentiment raisonné et indépendant de ma propre
individualité_--GUSTAVE COURBET 1855
LONDON
HURST AND BLACKETT LIMITED
13 GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET
1900
_All Rights reserved_
VARIOUS PERSONS
BELOVED OR CHERISHED BY ME
IN DEATH AS IN LIFE
STAND ON RECORD IN THIS BOOK
WHICH I DEDICATE
TO THE MEMORY OF THEM ALL
W M R
CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION
SOME EARLY CORRESPONDENCE OF DANTE GABRIEL
ROSSETTI _Introduction_ 3
LETTERS FROM DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI, 1 to 20 6
LETTER FROM GABRIELE ROSSETTI, 21 38
LETTER FROM DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI, 22 40
LETTER FROM GABRIELE ROSSETTI, 23 41
LETTERS FROM DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI, 24 to 26 43
MADOX BROWN--SOME LETTERS, FOLLOWED BY A
DIARY _Introduction_ 51
LETTERS 1 to 6 51
DIARY 1847 61
” 1848 79
” 1849 100
” 1850 105
” 1851 107
” 1852 109
” 1853 112
” 1854 113
” 1855 152
” 1856 201
THE P.R.B. JOURNAL, 1849-53 _Introduction_ 205
” 1849 209
” 1850 244
” 1851 292
” 1852-3 305
INDEX 310
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
1. Christina Georgina Rossetti, Profile by
Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Pencil (20 May
1865). A very exact likeness of her
at the age of thirty-four _Frontispiece_
2. The Gravestone of Elizabeth Brown,
Madox Brown’s first wife, Highgate
Cemetery, designed by him. Print
taken from a Drawing which he
made in Colour-wash. A Grandson
of Mr. and Mrs. Brown, Michael
Ford Madox Rossetti, who died in
infancy in 1883, is now buried in the
same Grave _To face p._ 65
3. Christ Washing Peter’s Feet, by Madox
Brown, Pencil-sketch for the Oil-picture
now in the National British
Gallery. The Picture seems to have
been begun towards the winter of
1851, and was exhibited in 1852:
this Pencil-drawing is probably the
first sketch made to try the composition ” 110
4. Alfred Tennyson reading _Maud_ aloud.
Pen-and-ink Sketch by Dante Gabriel
Rossetti, 27 September 1855. Details
as to this matter are given in my
Memoir of Dante Rossetti. Mr. and
Mrs. Browning, being then for a while
at No. 13 Dorset Street, London,
invited a few friends to hear Tennyson
read _Maud_, as he had undertaken.
Miss Browning, my Brother, and
myself, were present, and perhaps one
other. My Brother, unobserved by
Tennyson, made a pen-and-ink sketch
of him, and gave it to Browning. He
also made a duplicate of the sketch,
which belongs (or used to belong) to
Mr. Cosmo Monkhouse. The present
version is a triplicate, which he sent to
Miss Elizabeth E. Siddal, then in
Paris: she had started (I think only a
few days before 27 September) for
Paris and Nice, for the sake of
her health. This triplicate had remained
in the possession of the Siddal
family until September 1899, when
her Brother was so good as to present
it to me ” 233
W. M. R.
INTRODUCTION.
Through the agency of various persons, myself not the least active, a
considerable bulk of materials about the Præraphaelite Brotherhood,
or P.R.B., has by this time been published. Some of these materials
are in the nature of narratives or essays; others, of documents of
old date--letters, diaries, and so on. I now offer to the public a
further instalment of materials of the second class.
This instalment, as the reader will readily perceive, consists of
three several things, not directly connected the one with the other,
but all bearing upon the Præraphaelite movement. There is:--1. An
early correspondence of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, beginning (for
curiosity’s sake) in April 1835, when he was not quite seven years of
age, and going on to March or April 1854, just before the date when
my compilation entitled _Ruskin, Rossetti, Præraphaelitism_ (1899)
begins; and with this are included two letters from our Father. 2.
Some letters from Ford Madox Brown to his first Wife, Elizabeth
(Bromley), December 1844 to May 1845, followed by a much longer item,
extracts from his Diary from 4th September 1847 to 6th January 1856:
some passages from this Diary, relating to Dante Rossetti and his
surroundings, were given in my compilation above-named, and these
are, of course, omitted here. 3. Extracts from the P.R.B. Journal,
which I, as a member of the Brotherhood acting as its Secretary,
kept from 15th May 1849 to 29th January 1853. Thus the entire range
of dates in this volume is from April 1835 to January 1856; and from
1847 to 1856 it is tolerably detailed and copious.
It will be seen that the three constituent parts of this book overlap
to a large extent. The most important of the three is--as I think
most readers will say--the writing of Madox Brown. I have given the
precedence to the Rossetti correspondence simply because it begins at
the earlier date.
It seems superfluous for me to write any more here. My object in the
present volume (as in one or more that have preceded it) is not to
give any continuous narrative or dissertation of my own, but to set
forth original documents, with such introductory or annotating matter
as may make them plain. Matter of this sort is furnished in connexion
with each of the three items which make up the book: and so I leave
it in the reader’s hands. He may perchance find it informing in some
parts, and amusing in at any rate as many.
WM. M. ROSSETTI.
London.
July 1899.
PRÆRAPHAELITE
DIARIES AND LETTERS.
SOME EARLY CORRESPONDENCE OF DANTE
GABRIEL ROSSETTI.
SOME EARLY CORRESPONDENCE OF DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI.
In the course of some recent researches among old family documents
I put together the enclosed specimens--consisting of twenty-four
letters from Dante Gabriel Rossetti to various persons, 1835 to 1854,
and of two letters addressed to him by his father, 1853.
I have more than once had occasion to confute a current
misconception that Dante Rossetti could be adequately described as
a sentimentalist, a dreamer, a mystic, an æsthete, and the like,
without allowance being made for a considerable counterbalance of
attributes of a very opposite character. Certainly he had some
sentiment; he dreamed several dreams, asleep and awake; he may have
been a mystic (though I never quite understood what a mystic is); and
he had a passion for art in various forms, and for the word “art”
we now often substitute the word “æsthetics”--a term which Rossetti
seldom, if ever, pronounced. But it is not the less true that he
was full of vigour and buoyancy, full of _élan_, well alive to the
main chance, capable of enjoying the queer as well as the grave
aspects of life, by no means behindhand in contributing his quota to
the cause of high spirits--and generally a man equally natural and
genial. In youth these qualities had not been overclouded by some
troubles which beset his later years--although indeed, like other
men, he had at all periods of life his troubles and his glooms. The
present correspondence belongs all to the years of his youth; and I
think readers will say that, whatever else Dante Rossetti may have
been, he was a quick-blooded, downright-speaking man, with plenty
of will and an abundant lack of humbug. People who take an interest
in him may depend upon it that the more they learn about him--of an
authentic kind--the more will the masculine traits of his character
appear in evidence, and the less will room be left for the notion of
a pallid and anæmic “æsthete,” a candidate for the sunflowers of a
Du Maurier design. He did not “yearn.” All this is said without at
all derogating from the fact that in the very essence of his mind and
temperament Dante Rossetti was a poet--a poet who expressed himself
in verse and in form and colour.
I have appended several headnotes and one or two footnotes to these
letters; and will only add here a few observations, in the form of a
_Dramatis Personæ_, on some persons not otherwise accounted for:
John Lucas Tupper, Sculptor, intimate associate of the
Præraphaelite Brothers; a selection of his poems was published
posthumously in 1897.
Frederic George Stephens, Student of Painting, P.R.B., now a
leading Art-Critic.
Walter Howell Deverell, Painter, nominated for election into the
P.R.B.
Thomas Seddon, Painter: produced the picture of _Jerusalem_ now
in the National Gallery.
John P. Seddon, Architect.
Charles A. Collins, Painter and Author; became son-in-law of
Dickens.
James Hannay, Novelist and Essayist; was British Consul at
Barcelona in his later years.
Francis McCracken, Shipping Agent at Belfast, an early purchaser
of “Præraphaelite” pictures.
John Marshall, Surgeon, ultimately President of the Royal College
of Physicians.
William Allingham, Poet and Essayist.
Thomas Woolner, Sculptor and R.A.
Bernhard Smith, Sculptor; he settled in Australia, and there died.
LETTER I.
DANTE ROSSETTI TO MARGARET POLIDORI,
SWITHLAND, LEICESTERSHIRE.
This childish epistle from Dante Gabriel would have little or
no claim to appear here, were it not for the fact (as noted in
a few accompanying words by his mother) that it is “the second
letter of his writing--the first was to his Grandmother.” It is
written on lines, in a large text-hand--childish, of course, but
correctly formed. Dante Rossetti must have been backward rather than
otherwise--or one might say lazy--at letter-writing, for at this date
he was close upon seven years of age. I add a second childish letter,
of nearly similar date. Margaret Polidori, his eldest maternal aunt,
was at this date a governess in Leicestershire; Eliza Polidori, a
younger aunt, addressed in the second letter, lived at home with her
parents.
38 Charlotte Street, London.
7 April 1835.
Dear Aunt M.
Papa has bought two shawls for Maria and Christina. Dr. Curci,
a great friend of papa’s, came from Naples, and has given
Christina a little locket without hair, of the Virgin Mary with
Jesus Christ in her arms; it has a rim of mother-of-pearl. Papa
introduced Dr. Curci to a party where there was the Turkish
Ambassador, who asked papa to improvise.
I remain
Your affectionate nephew,
GABRIEL ROSSETTI.
LETTER II.
TO ELIZA POLIDORI, HOLMER GREEN, BUCKS.
38 Charlotte Street, London.
9 July 1835.
Dear Aunt Eliza,
We went to a fancy fair in the Regent’s Park, where I bought a
box of paints, Maria an album, and Christina two fishes and a
hook. The fair was for the benefit of a Charity School. I have
been reading Shakespeare’s _Richard the Third_ for my amusement,
and like it exceedingly. I, Maria, and William, know several
scenes by heart. I have bought a picture of Richard and Richmond
fighting, and I gilded it, after which I cut it out with no
white. My Aunt[1] came yesterday, and gave Maria a pretty little
basket: it was worked in flowers of green card.
I remain, my dear Aunt,
Your affectionate nephew,
GABRIEL C. D. ROSSETTI.
LETTER III.
TO GAETANO POLIDORI.
This letter appears to have been written in 1843, which was the date
of the privately-printed volume by my grandfather (_La Magion del
Terrore_, etc.) containing the lyric, _A Clori_. The first verse of
the lyric is “Quante stelle cancella la luna.” Polidori’s reply is
not forthcoming; but there can be little doubt that Dante Rossetti
was right in considering that the Italian poem is a free adaptation
of the English one.
50 Charlotte Street, London.
[? 1843.]
Dear Grandpapa,
On returning home yesterday and looking over your volume of
poetry, I was greatly surprised at discovering in your ode, _A
Clori_, at page 136, a most singular resemblance to a little
poem contained in Percy’s _Reliques of Ancient English Poetry_,
it being the same, verse by verse, and sometimes almost word for
word.
The poem to which I allude is written by Sir Henry Wotton, who
lived in the reign of James 1st, and is intended as an expression
of his admiration for Elizabeth, daughter of that monarch.
It runs as follows:
You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorlie satisfie our eyes
More by your number than your light,
You common people of the skies--
What are you when the moon shall rise?
Ye violets that first appeare,
By your pure purple mantles known
Like the proud virgins of the yeare,
As if the Spring were all your own--
What are you when the rose is blown?
Ye curious chanters of the wood,
That warble forth Dame Nature’s layes,
Thinking your passion understood
By your weak accents, what’s your praise
When Philomel her voyce shall raise?
So when my mistress shall be seene
In sweetness of her looks and mind;
By virtue first, then choyce, a queene;
Tell me if she was not designed
Th’ eclypse and glory of her kind.
The only difference between your composition and the above is, as
you perceive, the addition by you of two stanzas--judiciously, I
think, inasmuch as they complete the idea.
Now I do not for a moment suppose that you have translated these
lines and afterwards intentionally inserted them among your
original poems; but I should think it possible that you might
have rendered them into Italian some years ago, and that, on
looking over your manuscripts in order to compile the volume
in question, you might have found them, and, forgetting their
origin, placed them with the rest among your _Versi Lirici_.
Should this idea of mine, however, not be founded on fact, it is
certainly a most singular literary coincidence.
I remain, dear Grandpapa,
Your affectionate Grandson,
GABRIEL CHAS. ROSSETTI.
LETTER IV.
TO THE EDITOR OF A MAGAZINE.
In my Memoir of Dante Rossetti (published in 1895) I have spoken of a
very inefficient ballad which he wrote at the age of fifteen, named
_William and Marie_, and of an illustration which he concocted for
it. I possess a copy which he made of the ballad, followed by the
letter here reproduced. I am not sure what was the magazine to which
he forwarded the poem and its illustration, in the vain hope of
getting published: should suppose it to be _Smallwood’s Magazine_,
but for the fact that in that serial there were no illustrations.
Possibly he sent the letter and its contents to one Editor after
another, but I have no recollection of any such fact. From a
reference which I saw in a literary review, 1898 or ’99, I infer that
the ballad of _William and Marie_ has by this time been printed,
in whole or in part, though without any authority from Rossetti’s
representatives.
50 Charlotte Street, London.
[? 1843.]
Sir,
Should you consider the accompanying ballad not wholly unworthy
of a place in your magazine, you would highly oblige me by
inserting it. If it meet not with a favourable reception, and
should you answer me among your “Correspondents,” would you
favour me by doing so under the initials “A. B.” instead of my
real name.
I am, sir,
Yours etc. etc.
GABRIEL ROSSETTI.
P.S.--I have also executed the enclosed sketch, which is
intended, if considered sufficiently good, as a headpiece to the
ballad.
LETTER V.
TO JAMES COLLINSON.
Mr. Collinson was a painter, chiefly of domestic subjects, and a
member of the Præraphaelite Brotherhood. The letter was addressed to
him during the tour which was made by Holman Hunt and Rossetti to
Paris and Belgium.
My brother was mistaken in referring to certain pictures as
“the capture and execution of Cambyses”; they are the works
of Gerard David, representing Cambyses punishing an unjust
Judge.--_Bride-Chamber Talk_ is the poem published in 1881 under the
title of _The Bride’s Prelude_.
The initials of Mr. Hunt, added to this letter, are written in by
Rossetti.
BETWEEN GHENT AND BRUGES.
(Wednesday night, 24 October.)
Ah yes, exactly so; but when a man
Has trundled out of England into France
And half through Belgium, always in this prance
Of steam, and still has stuck to his first plan--
Blank verse or sonnets; and as he began
Would end;--why, even the blankest verse may chance
To falter in default of circumstance,
And even the sonnet lack its mystic span.
Trees will be trees, grass grass, pools merely pools,
Unto the end of time and Belgium--points
Of fact which Poets (very abject fools)
Get scent of--once their epithets grown tame
And scarce. Even to these foreign rails--my joints
Begin to find their jolting much the same.
* * * * *
Bruges: Hôtel du Commerce.
25 October 1849.
Dear P.R.B.
On the road hither last night I perpetrated only the above
atrocious sonnet, in answer to the voice which urged upon me a
more worthy exercise of my energies. It is all therefore that I
can give you.
I believe we have seen to-day almost everything very remarkable
at Bruges; but I assure you we shall want to see much of it
again. This is a most stunning place, immeasurably the best we
have come to. There is a quantity of first-rate architecture, and
very little or no Rubens.
But by far the best of all are the miraculous works of Memling
and Van Eyck. The former is here in a strength that quite stunned
us--and perhaps proves himself to have been a greater man even
than the latter. In fact, he was certainly so intellectually,
and quite equal in mechanical power. His greatest production
is a large triptych in the Hospital of St. John, representing
in its three compartments: firstly, the _Decollation of St.
John Baptist_; secondly, _the Mystic Marriage of St. Catherine
to the Infant Saviour_; and thirdly, _the Vision of St. John
Evangelist in Patmos_. I shall not attempt any description; I
assure you that the perfection of character and even drawing, the
astounding finish, the glory of colour, and above all the pure
religious sentiment and ecstatic poetry of these works, is not
to be conceived or described. Even in seeing them, the mind is
at first bewildered by such Godlike completeness; and only after
some while has elapsed can at all analyse the causes of its awe
and admiration; and then finds these feelings so much increased
by analysis that the last impression left is mainly one of utter
shame at its own inferiority. Van Eyck’s picture at the Gallery
may give you some idea of the style adopted by Memling in these
great pictures; but the effect of light and colour is much less
poetical in Van Eyck’s; partly owing to _his_ being a more sober
subject and an interior, but partly also, I believe, to the
intrinsic superiority of Memling’s intellect. In the background
of the first compartment there is a landscape more perfect in the
abstract lofty feeling of nature than anything I have ever seen.
The visions of the third compartment are wonderfully mystic and
poetical.
The Royal Academy here possesses also some most stupendous
works of Memling--among them one of a Virgin and Child, quite
astounding. In the same collection is a very wonderful Van Eyck,
some of the heads of which, however, are dreadfully vulgar in
character; and two pictures by some unknown author, representing
the capture and execution of Cambyses--equal to any one for
colour and individuality, and most remarkably fine in drawing.
They are powerfully dramatic--the second perhaps a trifle too
much so, as it represents a man being flayed alive, and is
revolting from its extreme truthfulness.
We have seen here a great many other stunning pictures, in which
this town is marvellously rich. There are several Memlings
besides those named above, and some glorious portraits by one of
the Porbus family--perhaps the finest specimens of portraiture we
ever saw.
I forgot to mention that Memling’s pictures in the Hospital
of St. John were presented to the Institution by that stunner
in return for the care bestowed upon him when he was received
here, severely wounded and in great want, after the battle of
Nancy. The interior of the hospital has undergone since his time
but very little alteration. His pictures are not painted with
oil--he having preceded Van Eyck--but with some vehicle of which
brandy and white of egg are the principal components. They have
cracked very slightly indeed; and one cannot conceive the colours
to have been more brilliant on the day of their completion.
Another great treat we had to-day was in visiting the Chapelle du
Sang de Dieu, a wonderful little place: also the Jerusalem, which
is in all respects a facsimile of the Holy Sepulchre at Palestine.
Friday 26.
I have been rash enough to sit down for the purpose of continuing
this letter--but begin to suspect, after all, that I have
nothing to say. All that we have seen to-day was merely in
re-visiting yesterday’s glories. It is stupendous to see again,
certainly--even better perhaps than the first time; but I fear
that my pen scarcely suffices for a second bill of fare. I must
therefore see what is to be done with some older topic.
Before leaving Ghent we visited the great Convent of the
town--the Béguinage. It is of a vast extent, containing entire
streets and squares of its own. Each nun has a house to herself,
over which is written not her name, but that of some saint under
whose protection she has been pleased to put it. In some cases
where the name was more than usually quaint, we felt disposed
to knock at the door and to ask if he was in; but refrained, as
it was rather late, and we feared he might be gone to bed. We
witnessed the vesper service, which rather surprised us, as we
thought that among the tunes played we could recognize “Jim Crow”
and “Nix my dolly.” At the end, each nun finds a kind of towel
somewhere, which she folds up and puts on the top of her head;
during the service, a rather sloshy[2] one goes about with a
policeman’s bull’s eye, collecting coppers. At our entrance and
departure, Hunt dipped his fingers in the holy-water stoup, and
commenced some violent gesticulations, which I was obliged to
bring to an abrupt conclusion.
We have bought an extraordinary self-concocting coffee-pot for
state-occasions of the P.R.B. We have likewise purchased a book
containing a receipt for raising the Devil, and in Paris a
quantity of Gavarni’s sketches, which I long to look over with
you.
When I left London I had the intention of finishing
_Bride-Chamber Talk_ during my absence. I have not written a line
of it. The only thing I have done, that nobody has had, are two
songs, one wanting the last verse, and the other the first. The
former I will proceed to copy here in spite of its shortcomings;
as news seems to come shorter still. I intend adding the last
stanza to-morrow, when we shall ascend the Belfry here.
THE CARILLON.
(Antwerp and Bruges.)
[Here follows the poem printed in _The Germ_ to end of Stanza 5.]
I wish I had finished this blessed ditty, dear P.R.B.; but I have
not, “and there an end,”--or no end at all rather. I will not
delay posting the letter, as we do not know exactly when we may
leave Bruges for our return, and the letter might chance to reach
after Hunt and self.
I must inform you that Memmelinck[3] is an authentic variation in
the orthography of that stunner’s name, and not of mine own evil
devising. The song is, of course, quite original; there is in
particular a Yankee of the name of Longfellow with whose works it
has no affinity.
I forgot to tell you that there is a Square here called Place
Jean van Eyck. Some of the houses in it, as indeed throughout
the town, are in all likelihood quite as old as his days. Rubens
seems here to be considered a common fool enough.
I shall not bore you to answer this rubbish, as I hope very soon
to have the real pleasure of again seeing you and the rest of
the P.R.B. I long to see what you have done to your picture, and
shall rush down at once to Brompton on my return.
Till then, believe Hunt and myself to remain, dear P.R.B.,
Your affectionate P.R. Brothers,
D. G. R., W. H. H.
LETTER VI.
TO JOHN TUPPER.
I don’t know the date of this doggrel (which gives twenty several
rhyme-words in “ack”); it was probably the Spring or Summer of 1850.
The men who “would squeeze a pun in Syriac” may probably have been
of the James Hannay connexion; the men of that connexion were not,
however, entirely likely to indulge in “sloshy tea,” but rather
in ardent spirits. As to the nicknames which appear towards the
close of the epistle--The Prince was George Tupper; The Baron, his
brother Alexander; Spectro-cadaveral Rex, John (or Jack) Tupper;
the Maniac, Holman Hunt. It is not worth while expounding (even
were it practicable to do so) how these epithets arose. Rossetti
was not the inventor of any of them. The reference to “Nature,
sky, sun,” &c., suggests that he had been invited to join in a
pedestrian excursion--such as the P.R.B.’s and their intimates got up
occasionally. In the present instance the party, as we see, was to
consist of Holman Hunt, Stephens, and the three Tuppers.
[? April 1850.]
72 Newman Street.
Saturday Afternoon.
Dear Jack
Alack!
A few days back
I bound myself by oath to smack
My lips o’er sloshy tea, and attack
White, brown, or black
Bread, and vile jokes to crack,
This night with brutes whose knack
Would squeeze a pun in Syriac.
And for to-morrow, alack!
I have a model on my track,
So that I may not pack.
Of course I writhe upon the rack:
Though as to NATURE, Jack,
(Poor dear old hack!)
Touching sky, sun, stone, stick, and stack,
I guess I’m half a quack;
For whom ten lines of Browning whack
The whole of the Zodiac.
Nevertheless, alack!
Seeing this time I must send back
To Prince and Baron, Stephens and Jack
(Spec-caday Rex, hic hæc hoc hac),
And to the Maniac,
The SACK.
This much from D. G. R. (in black,
_I.e._, with coal-ash cloth-of-sack.)
LETTER VII.
TO MARGARET POLIDORI.
The “unlucky pickle” into which my brother had got was that, as the
tenant of No. 72 Newman Street decamped without payment of rent, the
furniture &c. of Rossetti, who was sub-tenant of a studio there, were
under seizure for the tenant’s default. The picture here mentioned
was _Kate the Queen_.
[50 Charlotte Street, London.
1850--? September.]
Dear Aunt Margaret,
Many thanks for your kind gift, which reached me this morning
through Mamma. I need scarcely tell you that it comes very
àpropos, since I have not come out of the late unlucky pickle
without some expense,--or, rather I fear I _shall_ not, since as
yet I cannot say I have lost anything, as in any case I should
have had to pay my rent to some one. But I fear the bad part is
yet to come.
I am glad you liked the sketch of my picture, which is itself in
progress. The size is very large--seven feet and a half by four
feet. There will thus be plenty of scope to put your present to
its use in the procuring models, which I shall proceed to do as
soon as I get to work again--that is, I hope, not later than
Monday.
I remain, my dear Aunt,
Your affectionate nephew,
D. G. ROSSETTI.
LETTER VIII.
TO JOHN TUPPER.
I cannot now say what Mr. Tupper’s “pet theory” may have been;
apparently (from some law of optics) that the real tint of foliage
is green, even when the eye sees it of some different colour. The
subject of my brother’s picture was to be _The Meeting of Dante and
Beatrice in the Garden of Eden_: but the landscape background which
he now painted was finished up years afterwards for a subject of
quite another kind, named _The Bower-meadow_.
High Street, Sevenoaks.
Friday evening [October 1850.]
Dear Jack,
Before ever I saw your note to Hunt of this morning, you had
already been forcibly recalled to my mind, on arriving here, by
the desire that I should be endowed with the privileges that
would result from a pet theory of yours. The fact is, between you
and me, that the leaves on the trees I have to paint here appear
red, yellow, &c., to my eyes; and, as of course I know them on
that account to be really of a vivid green, it seems rather
annoying that I cannot do them so; my subject shrieking aloud for
Spring.
I will not tell you my subject, as I wish to show you the design
on my return, having it here at present. I have not seen you for
an age, though I marked you among the four or five to be routed
out before I left town--after which I was forced at last to
bolt o’ the sudden, with my tail between my legs, whereby hang
particulars of acute anguish. My canvas is a whopper again, more
than seven feet long. Ai! Ai!
Hunt gets on swimmingly--yesterday, indeed, a full inch over
the ankles: I myself had to sketch under the canopy of heaven,
without a hat, and with my umbrella tied over my head to my
buttonhole--a position which, will you oblige me by remembering,
I expressly desired should be selected for my statue--(N.B.
Trousers turned up). This last item is chiefly to suit Woolner’s
ideas of sculpture, should he get the commission. Stephens, being
under a course of philosophy, paints in the house. His band is
still, however, an inch or so short of Epicurus’s. To-day I began
painting on my picture in the Park; and began to profit by the
views of the public thereon. One man told another that I was
drawing a map, and analysed my outline to that end. One boy was
kicked by another for insulting me by doubting that my landscape
was meant for a deer. I saw the back of a pair of top boots, and
a cut-away coat; Lord Amherst, I was told, was sneaking inside,
but he refrained from exposing either his person or his ideas on
Art. His house is visited with artists in Egyptian swarms, poor
wretch! Hunt remarked--how disagreeable to enter one of your
rooms for the purpose of delivering a soliloquy, and find a man
there behind an easel; which was bobbish for Hunt.
The cold here is awful when it does not rain, and then the rain
is awful. “And what shall guard me but my naked love?”--and a
railway rug....
Believe me, dear Jack,
Your sincere friend,
D. G. ROSSETTI.
LETTER IX.
TO MARGARET POLIDORI.
My brother was now engaged in moving into No. 14 Chatham Place,
Blackfriars Bridge--the house in which he remained up to March 1862.
It was demolished several years ago.
[38 Arlington Street, Camden Town.]
16 November 1852.
My dear Aunt Margaret,
Many thanks for your kind present, which surprised me here half
an hour ago. Nothing could possibly have been more useful to me
in moving, as I had no lamp but one whose dilapidated condition
only promised to make darkness visible. I shall now bear you in
grateful recollection, not only when I look at the lamp, but when
the lamp enables me to look at anything else.
My things will be moved to-morrow, and I hope within a few days
to be comfortably settled; meanwhile I remain,
My dear Aunt Margaret,
Your affectionate nephew,
D. G. ROSSETTI.
LETTER X.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
[38 Arlington Street.]
22 November 1852.
My dear Brown,
My beastly foot has hitherto kept me here, but I shall positively
go down to Chatham Place to-morrow; if therefore you are inclined
to do a charitable action, let me earnestly solicit you to find
your way thither, as the arrangement will otherwise be likely to
result in mere chaos and catastrophe. I suppose I shall leave
here early; but, if you go down straight to Blackfriars a little
later, you will be sure to find me there. This, of course, is
supposing that you are not at work, in which case pray come if
possible.
Yours, D. G. R.
LETTER XI.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
“Summat on the Dook” means the poem _Wellington’s Funeral_.
14 Chatham Place, Blackfriars.
29 November 1852.
My dear Brown,
Hunt, Millais, Stephens, and Deverell, will be here on Thursday
evening, not with any reference to exhibition projects, which
are likely to result, I believe, in exhibiting nothing but our
usual inconsistency. I absented myself from Hunt’s on Friday, but
understand that such is the case. I met the fellows at Stephens’
last night, where I invited them for Thursday, and now write
to get you; intending also to invite the Seddons, Collins, and
perhaps Hannay.
I saw a portrait which Stephens is painting of his father, and
which is almost as surprising an advance on former productions as
Seddon’s landscape.
I should be immensely glad to see you this evening if you can
call in late after the school. Before, I suppose, is impossible,
but I am sure to be at home, and can give you half my bed if you
like. I am getting my rooms a little in order now; yet I fear
they will scarcely be decent by Thursday, as the window seems an
endless job.
D. G. R.
I have asked the Seddons for to-night.
P.S.--Do come to-night: to-morrow I am engaged. I have done
“summat on the Dook.”
LETTER XII.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
As I have said elsewhere, I incline to think that my brother was
mistaken in supposing that his sketches had been “kicked out”; at
any rate, _some_ water-colours of his were on exhibition.
14 Chatham Place, Blackfriars.
[4 December 1852.]
My dear Brown,
I have asked Hannay to come round to-morrow evening. He and you
were the only defaulters on Thursday except John Seddon, who it
seems is out of town. Can you come in to-morrow instead? Do if
you can. I will try and get William also, though I heard last
night at Millais’ that he was rather unwell.
What do you think? My sketches are kicked out at that precious
place in Pall Mall. I am, of course, more than ever resolved to
paint my picture of the pigs. Alas! my dear Brown, we are but too
transcendent spirits--far, far in advance of the age. Do not let
us bring up this subject to-morrow if Hannay or any one else is
present, as it is of no use trumpeting one’s grievances. But do
come.
Your friend,
DANTE G. ROSSETTI.
LETTER XIII.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
“The blessed white eyesore” was the picture _Ecce Ancilla Domini_,
now in the National Gallery.
14 Chatham Place.
[1 January 1853.]
My dear Brown,
This blessed afternoon the blessed white eyesore will be
finished. Therefore, if you have any last directions about
your pictures now in Green’s hands, you had better give them.
Yesterday after giving up the Angel’s head as a bad job (owing to
William’s malevolent expression) at about one o’clock I took to
working it up out of my own intelligence, and got it better by a
great deal than it has yet been. I have put a gilt saucer behind
his head, which crowns the _China_-ese character of the picture.
Yours,
D. G. R.
LETTER XIV.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
14 Chatham Place.
[14 January 1853.]
My dear Brown,
I find that the blessed white daub will not be finished before
to-morrow evening, but then it _will_ be finished. Green has
still got the frame; and herewith I write to him to send for the
picture. I suppose your case is not gone yet, but write in order
that you may not be in doubt as to my movements. The fact is, I
have been very lazy.
Your affectionate
D. G. R.
LETTER XV.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
Chatham Place, London.
Sunday morning.
[24 January 1853.]
My dear Brown,
Just as you are gone, it occurs to me that, if in writing to
McCracken you mention about the alterations in my picture, it
would be better not to call them _alterations_, as that indicates
that the work required amendment, but to leave him to suppose
them _additions_; also not to say that I have done _much_ to
the thing, but merely that _what I have done_ is greatly for
the better. I do not mean to make any charge for the additional
labour, and therefore to let him suppose that I have done too
much for nothing would look like undignified enthusiasm.
You will say I am improving when mere diplomacy can make me write
all this, so long past bed-time. Good morning.
D. G. R.
LETTER XVI.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
“My pupil” must, no doubt, have been Miss Siddal. In the P.S. she
figures as “dear G.,” which indicates the pet name “Guggum.” Her
drawing from Wordsworth was an illustration of the poem, _We are
Seven_.
Albany Street.
½ past 9 Saturday evening.
[29 January 1853.]
My dear Brown,
I am quite vexed with myself for having been away after being
the originator in to-day’s invitation; but, after painting till
nearly five and warming myself afterwards in the full certainty
of abundant time, I ended by being completely set at nought by
accursed shoe-strings and other domestic demons which turned
up to be attended to before I could leave; and, when at last
I got the better of them, behold it wanted but a quarter to
six o’clock. My intention was to come and dine and get you to
accompany me afterwards to the Photographic Exhibition, whither
I had promised to take my pupil on this the last evening of the
season. Being baffled of coming to dine, I dined at Chatham
Place, went to the Photographic Exhibition, and then came on,
still hoping to find you, knowing your intrepidity in late walks.
This last chance is missed, however, as fate wills it, and I can
only repeat how vexed and apologetic I feel about the matter, and
hope to see you some other way soon--
Remaining yours ever,
D. G. ROSSETTI.
P.S.--If you are in London any day, do look in at Chatham Place
and see dear G.’s drawings--the one from Wordsworth is very
advanced and nearly done.
LETTER XVII.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
Holman Hunt’s “moonlight” was for the picture of _The Light of the
World_. Rossetti’s “Giotto’s Dante” was the water-colour of _Giotto
painting the Portrait of Dante_, sold to Mr. John Seddon. I am not
sure as to the commissions offered by McCracken of Belfast, and
Miller of Liverpool; it does not appear to me that my brother,
towards this date, actually pocketed any such sum as £150. The _Dante
and Beatrice_ must be the picture (intended but not executed) for
which he had lately painted the background at Sevenoaks. Brown’s
“School-nights” were at the so-called North London School for Drawing
and Modelling. Bateman was a Decorative Artist, Edward Latrobe
Bateman, who had gone out to Australia with Woolner, to seek his
fortune.
Blackfriars Bridge.
[1 March 1853.]
My dear Brown,
I have not seen you for an age. Can you not come down--to give
you a long date--on Saturday evening? I will ask Seddon if you
like, but shall not do so till I hear from you. I have just come
from Hunt’s, who is dreadfully fagged, sitting up all night to
paint his moonlight. Now do come. I think you have never seen my
Giotto’s Dante here, which I shall not have much longer. Not that
I have made any direct use of it as yet, nor am likely to do so
just now, as I have got a £150 commission from McC[racken], and
am in a fair way to get one from Miller of Liverpool--perhaps
a better one. However, I _may_ nail him for the _Dante and
Beatrice_.
I hope I shall see you. I have allowed for all obstacles--both my
engagements and your school-nights--and the date is a very long
one.
Meanwhile I am
Yours most sincerely,
DANTE G. ROSSETTI.
I saw the Howitts last night, who have heard of Bateman’s
arrival at Melbourne, though not through him; but still nothing
of Woolner. Have you heard anything through young W[oolner]?
P.P.S.--Please let me know in your answer (as soon as possible)
whether you ever named to McC[racken] anything regarding the
_prices_ which I took for those sketches now exhibiting. Ruskin
has written him some extravagant praises (though with obtuse
accompaniments) upon one of them--I cannot make out which--and
McC[racken] seems excited, wanting it, and not knowing (or making
believe not to know) that it is sold. I therefore want to be
sure whether he is actually acquainted with the price I had; as,
in answering him, were I to propose to do him a similar one, I
should not think of undertaking it at anything like a similar
price, and want to know whether it is necessary to specify that
those sketches were sold to _friends_.
LETTER XVIII.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
This is a characteristic epistle. The Mr. T. here mentioned (I use a
fancy initial) was not a genius, but there was no real occasion for
dubbing him “an ass.” Brown did not produce the proposed etching.
[Chatham Place, London.
4 May 1853.]
My dear Brown,
There is such a thing as one T., who is connected with a magazine
to be called _The Artist_, on which my brother is engaged, and
the first number of which is to come out, _I think_, on 1st July.
The proprietor is Delf, publisher of Read’s poems, and this T.
is rather a card among the staff. I met him casually to-day, and
he told me that Millais (who had engaged if possible to do the
etching for No. 1) found himself prevented by other business,
and he asked me whether I thought you would undertake it. I
understand they have _plenty of tin to begin with_, and I suppose
would of course pay well. We agreed that T. had better call on
you and come to some understanding, and he wanted me to get you
to name a day when he could call at Hampstead. If you will let
me know I will let _him_ know.... The chief thing is, to _lay it
on thick_ as to payment, as I believe they really have tin. T.
is, of course, an ass, and should on principle be treated with
ignominy.
Remember me kindly to Mrs. Brown, and let me hear from you.
Yours most sincerely,
D. G. ROSSETTI.
LETTER XIX.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
“Lizzy” is Miss Siddal. Her portrait, water-colour, is the one
reproduced in the _Family Letters_ of my brother. She painted
eventually more than one water-colour from Tennyson, but not any that
was exhibited, or offered for exhibition, in the R.A.
[Chatham Place, London.
25 August 1853.]
My dear Brown,
Some cad wrote to me from Highgate the other day to inquire after
your respectability. In my answer, by some exercise of ingenuity,
I avoided the mention of Coldbath Fields, Botany Bay, and other
localities equally inseparable from your career.
Lizzy has made a perfect wonder of her portrait, which is nearly
done, and which I think we shall send to the Winter Exhibition.
She has been very ill though lately.
Pray remember me most kindly at home, and believe me
Your friend,
D. G. R.
Liz is going to begin a picture at once for the R.A., from
Tennyson, I believe.
LETTER XX.
TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
I am unable to say anything to the purpose about Brown’s “Hogarthian
Sonnets.”
The joke about “the nigger” was a sort of offshoot from Carlyle’s
_Occasional Discourse on the Nigger Question_, a pronouncement which
vastly amused my brother and several others in our set.
[Chatham Place, London.
24 September 1853.]
My dear Brown,
I shall be most glad to accept your invite for Sunday, to
Finchley viâ Hampstead, and shall try at once for William, who I
am sure will have equal pleasure if not pre-engaged--but these
men of society!
The Hogarthian sonnets have great excellencies, especially the
last; but they also present a few obscurities to which Browning
alone might perhaps serve as a sort of introductory horn-book.
Speaking of horn reminds me that like Desdemona I am “half
asleep,” and must to bed. By the by, that play tends to show how
the nigger, without due coercion, takes merely to beating his
wife, and perhaps ends by choking her as an outlet for his waste
energies.
I shall come on Sunday to Hampstead with or without William, at
about three or half-past, and will bring the sonnets with me, and
then go fully into them with you.
Meanwhile and ever
I am your D. G. R.
LETTER XXI.
GABRIELE ROSSETTI TO DANTE ROSSETTI.
(Translation.)
The _Arpa Evangelica_ was a volume of religious lyrics by my father,
then recently published.
“My friend Di Negro” was the Marchese Gian Carlo di Negro, a
Genoese patrician of good literary standing--known to my father by
correspondence, not in person.
Frome.
4 October 1853.
My dearest Gabriel,
For some while past I have been feeling a strong impulse to
write to you, my dearly beloved son; and to-day I will obey this
imperious inner voice.
I am glad that you have undertaken to read the _Arpa
Evangelica_.... You should, however, always bear in mind that
this book is the outcome of only three months’ work, and was
written with the intention of its being amenable to every grade
of intelligence.
I am extremely pleased at the progress which you are making in
your beautiful art, and at some profits which you are earning
from it to maintain yourself with decorum in society. Remember,
my dearly loved son, that you have only your abilities to rely
upon for your welfare. Remember that you were born with a
marked propensity, and that, from your earliest years, you made
us conceive the brightest hopes that you would become a great
painter. And such you will be, I am certain.
At this moment I have received a letter from Genoa, from my
friend Di Negro. He rejoices at the arrival of the _Arpa_.... He
says that throughout Piedmont, and in Liguria and Sardinia, it is
well received and generally admired; but that in the other parts
of Italy the governments prohibit its entry, on account of the
author’s name, which has become a veritable scarecrow to Kings.
If you had to go to Italy, I would recommend you, my dear son,
always to call yourself Dante Rossetti. But, before a time comes
for that, I trust that affairs will have changed.
I beg you to go frequently to visit your worthy grandfather. What
an excellent old man!...
Good-bye, my most lovable Gabriel, and believe in the constant
affection of
Your affectionate father,
GABRIELE ROSSETTI.
P.S.--I perceive I have not spoken to you at all about the state
of my health. And what can I say of it? It is the same as it was
in London; betwixt life and death, but more tending to the latter
than the former.
LETTER XXII.
DANTE ROSSETTI TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
My brother’s parody on Tennyson’s _Kraken_ is published in my Memoir
of him.
[Chatham Place, London.
7 November 1853.]
My dear Brown,
... I have had some news of Woolner (_i.e._, a letter to his
father which was shown me). He and B[ernhard] Smith were seven
months at the diggings (full accounts of which I have seen in
letters from Bernhard Smith to his brother). Their work seems to
have been something awful, and their result was the loss of £30
apiece, as they each made £50 and spent £80. Bernhard Smith went
after this to his brother’s farm and W[oolner] to Melbourne to
try Art. Here he seems to be getting on well. He has done several
medallions at £25 each--one of the Governor--and there seems to
be a good prospect of his getting a statue of the Queen to do for
Melbourne, in which case he will be back again next summer. He
sent two Australian papers in which he is spoken of as quite a
great fact, and a leading article given to him and the projected
statue. I thought I would write to you all this, not knowing when
I may see you, and now it suddenly strikes me that it was all
jawed over that night at Deverell’s.
I have made an admirable parody on Tennyson’s sonnet, _The
Kraken_, which I enclose with the original for your ecstatic
perusal.
Yours, D. G. R.
LETTER XXIII.
GABRIELE ROSSETTI TO DANTE ROSSETTI--Translation.
The phrase “I can’t write clearer” may deserve a moment’s attention.
The fact is that my Father’s handwriting was from the first
singularly precise and perfect, and such it continued to the last.
In the years when his sight had grievously declined he used powerful
glasses, and his writing was minute and done with effort, but (with
some casual exceptions) it was always uncommonly good. The present
letter, though an inferior specimen, is nearly as clear as print.
Frome.
22 December 1853.
My much-loved son Gabriel,
Long have I been thinking of sending you a letter, and I never do
it.
Have you read more of the _Arpa Evangelica_? Your opinion is
valued by me; tell me then something about it, besides what you
have already said.
Excuse me, my dear son, I can’t write clearer--and I fear that
shortly I shall be unable to write at all. My blindness increases
daily, nay hourly.
We shall return to London on the 25th of March, and we return
for ever. I trust to find in good health you, my dearest son,
and your brother and your sister Maria. And you will rejoice in
again seeing dear Christina, and your aged Father, who will soon
go under-ground with beloved Polidori. I learned with pleasure
that you and William and Maria all assisted at his last moments.
Dearest Father-in-law and friend, how much did I love you!
Be heedful of your profession, dearly beloved son, and let the
public see what you are capable of.
Your loving father,
GABRIELE ROSSETTI.
LETTER XXIV.
DANTE ROSSETTI TO MADOX BROWN, HAMPSTEAD.
Mr. Holman Hunt’s “day of departure” was for his journey to Egypt and
Palestine.
I believe that Hannay’s proposed Magazine _The Pen_ did actually run
through a few numbers, but Rossetti’s _Burden of Nineveh_ did not
appear in it.
[Chatham Place, London.
3 January 1854.]
My dear Brown,