Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2086 page)

“To MRS. COLLINS.

“Ford Abbey, 1810.

* * * “The day after my last letter completely changed the scene here. A few moments before four o’clock the ‘squire and his suite arrived in state. * * * * I have selected from the wreck of the pictures about sixteen, and have literally slaved at them, that I might be able to set off for home as soon as possible. God only knows how anxiously I have longed to be with you, and the pains I have taken to give satisfaction. Perhaps, as far as I ought to expect, these pains have not been altogether ineffectual. But there has been one great fatality attendant upon most of my exertions, namely, they have been generally made before those who were incompetent to appreciate their value. At all events, I have had some kind of satisfaction in refusing to undertake the recovery of some vilely injured pictures, under a remunerating price. The first intimation I gave of my incapacity to restore, or even line, the pictures, without the aid of my son William, was on last Wednesday. There was a beautiful large landscape by Ostade, the figures by A. Teniers. I pointed out the necessary repairs in the sky, which were wanted to make the picture complete; and of course mentioned Bill as superior to every other artist in that department! The ‘squire listened very attentively until I had done, and then inquired what the expense of such repairs might be. I answered, about two or three guineas: ‘ Oh! d — n the sky! clean it, and stick it up without any repairs then!’ * * * * Yours, &c.

“WILLIAM COLLINS.”

During the three years already referred to, my father contributed, regularly to the exhibitions of the Royal Academy and to the British Institution. His pictures — for the most part small in size and low in price — generally found purchasers; and though not productive of much positive profit, gained for him what throughout life he ever valued more, the public approval and attention. In 1810, his new pictures exhibited were: — ”Cottage Children blowing Bubbles,” a simple, rustic scene, sold to Mr. P. H, Rogers and engraved in an “Annual” for 1831; “Boys Bathing;” and, “Children Fishing,” sold to the Rev. E. Balme. Although these pictures displayed little of the grasp of conception and vigour of treatment of his matured efforts, they were remarkable for their fidelity to Nature, for their quiet humour, and for the real purpose and thoughtfulness of their unpretending design. In 1811, he advanced in elabouration of subject, exhibiting, “The Young Fifer;” “The Weary Trumpeter; or, Juvenile Mischief,” sold to Mr. Mills; “The Tempting Moment,” sold to Mr. Leeds, and engraved in the “Forget Me Not” for 1830; and a “Study of a Country Kitchen,” now in the possession of Mr. Sheepshanks. The first three of these pictures challenged and received greater attention than any of his former efforts. On “The Young Fifer,” which was purchased by the Marquis of Stafford, the following smart epigram was written by James Smith, one of the authors of the admirable “Rejected Addresses:”

“The Fifer when great Stafford bought,
The music was no more the same;
By him to public notice brought,
The
Fife
is now the
Trump of Fame!”

“The Weary Trumpeter,” and “The Tempting Moment,” were as successful as the “Young Fifer.” In the first picture, the trumpeter is represented sleeping uneasily in a cottage chair, while a little urchin, mounted upon another seat, has assumed the soldier’s cocked hat, (which threatens to fall over his head and face, like an extinguisher) and is blowing, with distended cheeks and glaring eyes, into the sleeping hero’s trumpet, the mouth of which he has mischievously placed within an inch of its possessor’s ear. The other picture, “The Tempting Moment,” depicts an old apple-woman, lulled in the slumbers of inebriation, and cautiously approached, in contrary directions, by two cunning boys, who are reaching out their hands to levy a peaceful “black mail” upon her unguarded stock in trade. A small print of this picture will be found in the “Forget Me Not” for 1830.

It may be some consolation to those ill-fated votaries of the graphic muse, who, in present, or future exhibitions, groan, or may be destined to groan, under the young artist’s inevitable tribulation — a bad place on the Academy walls, to know that one of Mr. Collins’s best pictures rested, this year, on that dark Erebus of pictorial indignity — the floor of an exhibition-room. The following correspondence on this subject is a curious exemplification of smarting disappointment on the one hand, and dignified official composure on the other:

“To H. HOWARD, ESQ., R. A.

“Great Portland-street, 1st May, 1811.

“Sir, — Finding one of my pictures put upon the hearth in the ‘Great Room,’ where it must inevitably meet with some accident from the people who are continually looking at Mr. Bird’s picture, I take the liberty of requesting you will allow me to order a sort of case to be put round the bottom-part of the frame, to protect it (as well as the picture) from the kicks of the crowd.

“Even the degrading situation in which the picture is placed, would not have induced me to trouble you about it, had it been
my
property; but, as it was painted on commission, I shall be obliged to make good any damage it may sustain.

“I remain, Sir,

“Your obt. humble servant,

“W. COLLINS, jun.”

“To MR. COLLINS, JUN.

“Royal Academy, May 1st, 1811.

“Sir, — I conceive there will be no objection to your having a narrow wooden border put round the picture you speak of, if you think such a precaution necessary, provided it be done any morning before the opening of the exhibition; and you may show this to the porter, as an authority for bringing in a workman for that purpose.

“I cannot help expressing some surprise that you should consider the situation of your picture degrading, knowing as I do, that the Committee of arrangement thought it complimentary, and, that low as it is, many members of the Academy would have been content to have it.

“I am, Sir,

“Your obedient servant,

“H. HOWARD, Sec.

Mr. Collins had undergone mischances of the same nature before, but this was the last disappointment of the kind that he suffered. In three years more, he was honourably connected with the Royal Academy, and became the friend, as well as the warm admirer of his former official correspondent — one of the most refined and poetical painters whom the English school has produced.

In the year 1812, the prospects of the painter’s family showed some symptoms of brightening. His father’s transactions as a picture-dealer began to improve in value and importance; and he, himself, had sold some of his later works, at what he then considered an encouragingly remunerating price. Each now ventured to plan more hopeful and ambitious schemes — one talked of enlarging his business; the other of extending his range of subjects. But a heavy and irretrievable affliction was approaching, to crush the new hopes and disperse the humble enjoyments of the artist’s home. In this year, the father who had been to him master, critic, companion, and friend; who looked forward with eager impatience, to the time when he should enjoy the triumph of seeing his son widely celebrated and Academically honoured in the profession to which he was attached — in this year, leaving his beloved family destitute, the kind husband and generous father died!

Of the few journals kept by Mr. Collins, the first begins with this melancholy period. If it be objected that, in the extracts I shall make from it, I have exposed feelings too private and domestic to meet the public eye — I would answer, that the history of the heart of a man of genius is of as great importance, and is as much the property of his posterity, as the history of his mind: the emotions are the nurses of the faculties, and the first home is the sanctuary in which they are created and reared.

Journal of 1812

“January 7th. — At home in the morning — at home in the evening — sat up with my dear father till three o’clock — went to bed in my clothes. 8th. — At home in the morning, thought my dear father better, but was anxious for the doctor to come. Sharp called about two; my father shook hands with him and seemed better. Sharp thought he would have been well in a few days. Hyde came, for the second time, about six; when my father seemed to me to be worse, as he did not at all attend to what Hyde said to him. This alarmed me; when I requested he would send for a physician — he did so. Doctor Mayo came at about eight, to whom I stated the principal part of what follows; to which he particularly attended:

“The first symptoms of disease were observed about three weeks before he took to his bed, which were an inclination to be always dozing; frequent vomittings after meals, particularly breakfast; and excessive low spirits. On the 18th December, he was very low, which was caused in a great measure by the want of money, as there was very little in the house. He seemed completely dejected; when Mr. Heathcote* called and paid me £42, in advance, for a picture he had ordered. When I told him of this he seemed greatly relieved, and thanked God; which he never neglected to do. Upon every fortunate occasion, he always said, ‘God be praised!’ I gave him the cheque; it was of service in discharging some trifles about the neighbourhood * * After Christmas, he kept his bed, and came down on the Friday to my painting-room for a short time. He then did not come down again till Saturday, the 4th January, to see my pictures. He was very weak * * * A few days after Christmas, he was so violently attacked with cramp in his thighs and stomach that he quite alarmed me. I took some flannel and soaked it in hot water, wrung it out, and put it upon the parts affected; which did him so much service that he was never again troubled with a return, and he frequently said I had saved his life * * * I went to Mr. Carpue, and told him his case, and what I had done: he said it was perfectly right * * * I wrote for a friend of his, Mr. Hyde, who was out of town, but came the next day, (7th January) and said he would have him up in a few days. Hyde came the next day, as before stated, as also doctor Mayo, who, after hearing the material part of this statement, said it was a bad case — went up to see him — called to him — got no answer — said he wished to see his tongue, which he could not — felt his pulse — shook his head — and gave me the most severe shock that I ever felt, by telling me that my father might live a few hours, but was certainly a dying man; and that it was useless to give him anything, as it was utterly impossible he could live. I then told him he had been ordered a blister on the back of his neck; and I took him into my room and requested him, as a man of honour, to tell me, if he had been called in sooner, could he have done anything for him? He said that if he had been his own father, and he had known of his complaint from the first moment, he could have prolonged his life for probably one day, but that it was utterly impossible, from the symptoms, that he could have been restored, as his constitution was completely decayed. Hyde then came again; when he wished to give him a spoonful at a time, of brandy-and-water. Doctor Mayo said he might give him anything that he pleased, as it could do him no harm. * * * But it was all in vain; my father never struggled — breathed hard, and groaned. I gave him, about a quarter of an hour before his death, two spoonfuls of port wine, warm — by Hyde’s advice. The rattles were in his throat, and he breathed his last!

* Afterwards Sir Thomas Heathcote, bart.

“It was twenty minutes after two, on Thursday morning, when this dear martyr to bodily and mental afflictions left his miserable son and family * * * He was completely insensible — had he been sensible, his only misery would have been to see his family in the anguish the certainty of his death caused them, — for his affection for them was beyond all comparison; and, thank God, it was reciprocal.

“9th. — Sat up the whole of last night and this morning, in the utmost misery, waiting for daylight, with my wretched mother, brother, and Mrs. Sharp. At home all day, lay down in my clothes in the parlour at night * * * 15th. — Went to the burial of my poor dear father, accompanied by my brother, Mr. Moore, Mr. Langdon, Mr. Cartwright, and Mr. Sharp * * * 17th. — Went out for half-an-hour, for the first time since my dear father’s death (except the funeral). At home in the evening — my mother very ill: kept my clothes on all night, to attend her. * * * 28th. — Went to the Gallery, to see how my pictures were hung. Never felt so wretched, or less ambitious, although my pictures were most capitally situated. February 1st. — Went with Frank to Mr. Langdon’s: from thence to the different offices, for the purpose of renouncing the administration, in favour of Mr. Langdon. Dined with him at Andrews’s; and came home at eight o’clock, for the remainder of the evening. 3rd. — Mr. Heathcote called in; and, when I made him acquainted with my melancholy situation, most nobly offered to pay me the remainder of the purchase-money of the picture which I could not think of taking, as the picture was not a quarter finished and then offered me the loan of £50 upon my note of hand. This I also refused; but agreed, if I should be in distress, to write to him for the loan of £20. 4th. — Painted, for the first time since my dear father’s death, for about an hour * * * 8th. — Signed a paper with Frank, containing our renunciation of the estate of my dear father; the one we signed before being only sufficient for my mother. * * * 12th. — Received a letter from the Gallery, containing an offer of fifty guineas for my “Trumpeter” — which I accepted. In the evening, Green was kind enough to bring me the money. I think highly of Green’s friendship and feeling. * * * 17th. — The sale of the furniture took place; Frank attended, and purchased my dear father’s ring, spectacles, and snuff-box. * * * March 1st. — At home in the morning — went to visit my father’s grave! 3rd. — The sale of the stock took place to-day; at which the pictures I gave in for the benefit of the creditors, produced £57.”