CHAPTER IVToC

[41]SeeChap. IV. p. 239.

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—"Dædalus 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 myforte(par parenthèse, though I am not a colourist, albeit passionately fond of colour, I have always been, and am, a greatcuisinier; 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 hesometimes, 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."

St. JeromeST. JEROME. 1869. DIPLOMA WORKDeposited in the Academy on Lord Leighton's election as an AcademicianToList

ST. JEROME. 1869. DIPLOMA WORKDeposited in the Academy on Lord Leighton's election as an AcademicianToList

Electra at the Tomb of Agamemnon"ELECTRA AT THE TOMB OF AGAMEMNON"ToList

"ELECTRA AT THE TOMB OF AGAMEMNON"ToList

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 æsthetic 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, strongAs Hercules, though rosy with a robeOf Grace that softens down the sinewy strength:And he has made a picture of it all.There lies Alcestis dead, beneath the sunShe longed to look her last upon, besideThe sea, which somehow tempts the life in usTo come trip over its white waste of waves,And try escape from earth, and fleet as free.Behind the body I suppose there bendsOld 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 strainsThe might o' the hero 'gainst his more than match,—Death, dreadful not in thew and bone, but likeThe envenomed substance that exudes some dew,Whereby the merely honest flesh and bloodWill fester up and run to ruin straight,Ere they can close with, clasp and overcome,The poisonous impalpabilityThat simulates a form beneath the flowOf those grey garments; I pronounce that pieceWorthy to set up in our Poikilé!"

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."

Heracles Struggling With Death"HERACLES STRUGGLING WITH DEATH FOR THE BODY OF ALCESTIS." 1871By permission of the Fine Art Society, the owners of the CopyrightToList

"HERACLES STRUGGLING WITH DEATH FOR THE BODY OF ALCESTIS." 1871By permission of the Fine Art Society, the owners of the CopyrightToList

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 château 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 weekthere could be nocertaintyof her recovery, but that the possible chances doubled every day. Since then, thank God, she has progressed soastoundinglyowing to her immense roots of vitality and health, that one may be almostcertain(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.

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 château 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 weekthere could be nocertaintyof her recovery, but that the possible chances doubled every day. Since then, thank God, she has progressed soastoundinglyowing to her immense roots of vitality and health, that one may be almostcertain(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]

Summer Moon"SUMMER MOON." 1872By permission of Messrs. P. & D. Colnaghi, the owners of the CopyrightToList

"SUMMER MOON." 1872By permission of Messrs. P. & D. Colnaghi, the owners of the CopyrightToList

A Condottiere"A CONDOTTIERE." 1872ToList

"A CONDOTTIERE." 1872ToList

Music StudySTUDY FOR FIGURE IN FRIEZE. "MUSIC." 1886Leighton House CollectionToList

STUDY FOR FIGURE IN FRIEZE. "MUSIC." 1886Leighton House CollectionToList

The Arts of WarSTUDY FOR FIGURE IN "THE ARTS OF WAR,"Victoria and Albert Museum. 1872Leighton House CollectionToList

STUDY FOR FIGURE IN "THE ARTS OF WAR,"Victoria and Albert Museum. 1872Leighton House CollectionToList

The Arts of WarSTUDY FOR FIGURE IN "THE ARTS OF WAR,"Victoria and Albert Museum. 1872Leighton House CollectionToList

STUDY FOR FIGURE IN "THE ARTS OF WAR,"Victoria and Albert Museum. 1872Leighton House CollectionToList

The Arts of WarSTUDY FOR FIGURE IN "THE ARTS OF WAR,"Victoria and Albert Museum. 1872Leighton House CollectionToList

STUDY FOR FIGURE IN "THE ARTS OF WAR,"Victoria and Albert Museum. 1872Leighton House CollectionToList

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 × 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, "Phœnicians 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 itsspace 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 standsmaking 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]

Antique Juggling Girl"ANTIQUE JUGGLING GIRL." 1874By permission of Mr. George HodgesToList

"ANTIQUE JUGGLING GIRL." 1874By permission of Mr. George HodgesToList

Clytemnestra Watches"CLYTEMNESTRA WATCHES FROM THE BATTLEMENTS OF ARGOS FOR THE BEACONFIRES WHICH ARE TO ANNOUNCE THE RETURN OF AGAMEMNON." 1874Leighton House CollectionToList

"CLYTEMNESTRA WATCHES FROM THE BATTLEMENTS OF ARGOS FOR THE BEACONFIRES WHICH ARE TO ANNOUNCE THE RETURN OF AGAMEMNON." 1874Leighton House CollectionToList

ClytemnestraSTUDY FOR "CLYTEMNESTRA." 1874Leighton House CollectionToList

STUDY FOR "CLYTEMNESTRA." 1874Leighton House CollectionToList

Summer MoonSTUDY FOR "SUMMER MOON"From Oil Sketch painted by Moonlight in RomeGiven by the late A. Waterhouse, R.A., to the Leighton House CollectionToList

STUDY FOR "SUMMER MOON"From Oil Sketch painted by Moonlight in RomeGiven by the late A. Waterhouse, R.A., to the Leighton House CollectionToList

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 × 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 SirRichard 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 Archæology. 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 morebefore 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.

The Daphnephoria"THE DAPHNEPHORIA"—A TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION HELD AT THEBES IN HONOUR OF APOLLO. 1876By permission of the Fine Art Society, the owners of the CopyrightToList

"THE DAPHNEPHORIA"—A TRIUMPHAL PROCESSION HELD AT THEBES IN HONOUR OF APOLLO. 1876By permission of the Fine Art Society, the owners of the CopyrightToList

At A Reading-desk"AT A READING-DESK." 1877By permission of Messrs. L.H. Lefevre & Son, the owners of the CopyrightToList

"AT A READING-DESK." 1877By permission of Messrs. L.H. Lefevre & Son, the owners of the CopyrightToList

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 thework 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 félicitations peuvent vous toucher j'en serais trés heureux.J'espérais vous voir lundi dernier à l'Academy et vous complimenter comme vous le meritez pour votre belle statue. À quoi sert de gratter toute sa vie un morceau de terre, quand près de soi on voit tout à coup surgir un chef d'œuvre d'une main à qui la sculpture était jusque là restée étrangère?Si j'étais envieux ce serait une belle occasion pour moi, mais loin de là j'ai été trés heureux d'admirer votre œuvre, et trés flatté de l'honneur qu'on a fait à ma pauvre terre cuite, en la plaçant en pendant avec votre bronze; c'est encore un bon souvenir de plusqui me viens de l'Academy et de vous, mon cher Leighton, car je sais toute la part que vous avez prise au déplacement dont ma figure a été l'objet.Aussi croyez que je suis heureux de pouvoir me dire votre sincère admirateur et trés reconnaissant ami,J. Dalou.

217a Glebe Place, Chelsea, S.W.,2 Mai 1877.

Mon cher Leighton,—Si mes humbles félicitations peuvent vous toucher j'en serais trés heureux.

J'espérais vous voir lundi dernier à l'Academy et vous complimenter comme vous le meritez pour votre belle statue. À quoi sert de gratter toute sa vie un morceau de terre, quand près de soi on voit tout à coup surgir un chef d'œuvre d'une main à qui la sculpture était jusque là restée étrangère?

Si j'étais envieux ce serait une belle occasion pour moi, mais loin de là j'ai été trés heureux d'admirer votre œuvre, et trés flatté de l'honneur qu'on a fait à ma pauvre terre cuite, en la plaçant en pendant avec votre bronze; c'est encore un bon souvenir de plusqui me viens de l'Academy et de vous, mon cher Leighton, car je sais toute la part que vous avez prise au déplacement dont ma figure a été l'objet.

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

J. Dalou.

An Athlete Strangling a Python"AN ATHLETE STRANGLING A PYTHON"From small sketch, 1876ToList

"AN ATHLETE STRANGLING A PYTHON"From small sketch, 1876ToList

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. Imeantto ask you toacceptit—"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 theAcademythat 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, W.,December 11, 1874.

Dear Mr. Leighton,—I fear that the note which I sent with the bronze did not explain itself sufficiently. Imeantto ask you toacceptit—"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 theAcademythat 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," asyoucall 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 thespiritof the antique, but the antiqueitself, 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 putdown 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.

Grove Lodge,Palace Gardens Terrace, Kensington,December 14, 1874.

Dear Mr. Leighton,—I don't know which to admire most—the "sketch," asyoucall 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 thespiritof the antique, but the antiqueitself, 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 putdown 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.

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.

Nausicaa"NAUSICAA." 1878ToList

"NAUSICAA." 1878ToList

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 youhave 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 trueHellenicart, and am touched beyond everything by its noble simplicity and its unaffected directness, so theRomanor 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, standnear, 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 mediæval 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 merelycartoons; 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.

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 youhave 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 trueHellenicart, and am touched beyond everything by its noble simplicity and its unaffected directness, so theRomanor 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, standnear, 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 mediæval 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 merelycartoons; 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 permanentdecoration 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 £1000, 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.

July 14, 1868.

Sir,—The Lords of the Committee of Council on Education having had under their consideration the subject of the permanentdecoration 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 £1000, 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.

The Arts of PeaceSTUDY FOR GROUP IN "THE ARTS OF PEACE,"Victoria and Albert Museum. 1873Leighton House CollectionToList

STUDY FOR GROUP IN "THE ARTS OF PEACE,"Victoria and Albert Museum. 1873Leighton House CollectionToList

CimabueFIRST SKETCH FOR FIGURE OF CIMABUECarried out in Mosaic in the Victoria and Albert Museum, 1868ToList

FIRST SKETCH FOR FIGURE OF CIMABUECarried out in Mosaic in the Victoria and Albert Museum, 1868ToList

Original Sketch for the Figure Of Niccola PisanoORIGINAL SKETCH FOR THE FIGURE OF NICCOLA PISANOCarried out in Mosaic in the Victoria and Albert Museum, 1868ToList

ORIGINAL SKETCH FOR THE FIGURE OF NICCOLA PISANOCarried out in Mosaic in the Victoria and Albert Museum, 1868ToList

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. (SeeList 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 reasonswhythe figures underdiscussion should not be pictures, and that you, on the other hand, have not put forward a single reason why, a single principle on which theyshouldbe 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 conventionalabstraction, it represents no concrete object, and as anabstractionis incompatible with any perspective representations of solid objects, which presuppose space and distance—everything that is on thesameplane as the figure is submitted to the same conditions, hence any accessory on the pedestal is admissible; everythingbeyondthe pedestal is part of the background, which may be abstract or concrete, as you please, butcannotlogically beboth.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 themselvesto you, and deter you from further encouraging a practice which may be supported by precedent, but cannot be made tenable in theory.

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 conventionalabstraction, it represents no concrete object, and as anabstractionis incompatible with any perspective representations of solid objects, which presuppose space and distance—everything that is on thesameplane as the figure is submitted to the same conditions, hence any accessory on the pedestal is admissible; everythingbeyondthe pedestal is part of the background, which may be abstract or concrete, as you please, butcannotlogically beboth.

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 themselvesto 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 finesketch of the interior of the Grand Mosque which he enlarged into a picture 62 × 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 heartnever 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 townitself—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 ina 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 ofsketching, 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 voilà. 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.

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 heartnever 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 townitself—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 ina 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 ofsketching, 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 voilà. 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:—

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