Part 56 (2/2)

He was not without experience of the duties of a special constable, as he had been sworn in during the Bristol riots of 1830, and on that occasion saw active service. Happily, matters were better managed in London, and no actual collision took place between the constables, or the military, and the mob.

The extent to which Mr. Brunel kept his works in his own hands, and under his own superintendence, made it necessary for him to have a large amount of office accommodation; and the inconvenience of having branch offices in the streets near his house led him, in 1848, to enlarge his offices: with this object he added the adjoining house, 17 Duke Street, which he rebuilt. A large room on the ground floor, looking on the Park, was thenceforward his own office, and the room above was made the dining-room. It was decorated in the Elizabethan style, and was to have contained a collection of pictures ill.u.s.trative of scenes in 'Shakespeare,' painted for him by the princ.i.p.al artists of the day. This project was never completely carried out, but several pictures (about ten in all) were painted and hung up, among them the 't.i.tania' of Sir Edwin Landseer. These subjects are again referred to in the following letter:--

February, 1870.

'My dear Isambard,--You ask me to jot down for you any reminiscences I have of your father's love and feeling for art.

'I remember with singular distinctness the first time I ever saw him, when I was a lad of fourteen, and had just obtained my students.h.i.+p at the Royal Academy. He criticised with great keenness and judgment a drawing which I had with me, and at the same time gave me a lesson on paper straining. From that time till his death he was my most intimate friend. Being naturally imbued with artistic taste and perception of a very high order, his critical remarks were always of great value, and were made with an amount of good humour which softened their occasionally somewhat trying pungency. He had a remarkably accurate eye for proportion, as well as taste for form. This is evinced in every line to be found in his sketch books, and in all the architectural features of his various works.

'So small an incident as the choice of colour in the original carriages of the Great Western Railway, and any decorative work called for on the line, gave public evidence of his taste in colour; but those who remember the gradual arrangement and fitting up of his house in Duke Street will want no a.s.surance from me of your father's rare artistic feeling. He pa.s.sed, I believe, the pleasantest of his leisure moments in decorating that house, and well do I remember our visits in search of rare furniture, china, bronzes, &c., with which he filled it, till it became one of the most remarkable and attractive houses in London. Its interest was greatly increased when he formed that magnificent dining-room, now, with the house of which it was a part, pulled down. This room, hung with pictures, with its richly carved fireplace, doorways, and ceiling, its silken hangings and Venetian mirrors, lighted up on one of the many festive gatherings frequent in that hospitable house, formed a scene which none will forget who had the privilege of taking part in it. When from time to time he went abroad, and especially in his visit to Venice in 1852, he added to his collection by purchases made with great judgment and skill. In buying pictures, your father evinced a taste often found in men of refined mind and feeling--viz. a repugnance to works, however excellent in themselves, where violent action was represented. He preferred pictures where the subject partook more of the suggestive than the positive, and where a considerable scope was left in which the imagination of the spectator might disport itself. This feeling was displayed in a great love of landscape art, and in the keenest appreciation of the beauties of nature. It is an interesting fact to record, and one which I often heard him mention, when his friends were admiring his beautiful grounds at Watcombe, that in the old posting days, when travelling on the cliff road between Teignmouth and Torquay, he constantly stopped the carriage to get out and admire the view which he had discovered from a field at Watcombe, little thinking then that it would ultimately be the site of his intended country home.

'When your father and I went to Italy together in 1842, posting from Westminster to Rome and back again, I had ample opportunities of observing his love and enthusiasm for nature and art.

'Overwhelmed as he was with work in England at the time, it was no easy matter for him to leave the country for a couple of months; and I remember that our starting at all was uncertain up to the last moment; and that, an hour before quitting London, it was only by a _coup de theatre_, which he most adroitly performed, that he escaped the serving of a subpna, the bearer of which had actually penetrated to the dining-room door in Duke Street.

'We left London one evening in April 1842. During our journey we constantly pa.s.sed several consecutive days and nights in the carriage; and I am sure there was not one of our waking hours in which some incident of interest did not occur.

'I remember your father agreeing with me, that our experiences merely of post-boys and their various characteristics would be worthy of recording in detail--from Newman's two smart lads, who took us the first stage out of London, on to the genuine ”postillon” (boots and all) we found at Calais; then to the wild young brigands (in appearance) who, inspired by the prospect of extra ”buon mano,” whirled us along the road from Civita Vecchia towards Rome, and winding up with the stolid German who rose slowly in his stirrups, and distracted us by a melancholy performance on the horn slung round him, and which no entreaty would induce him to give up.

'We posted from Calais, _via_ Paris, to Chalons-sur-Saone, marvelling the whole way whereabouts ”La Belle France” was to be found; for a drearier and more utterly monotonous ride of something like 800 miles it is impossible to conceive. From Chalons we went down the river to Lyons, then onwards, visiting Nismes, and through Arles to Toulon.

'From Toulon we went through Cannes and Nice and along the lovely Cornice road to Genoa. Your father was intensely delighted with this portion of the journey. Those wonderfully picturesque towns, with their roccoco churches looking like toys, and painted all over upon the principle of colour generally developed in that species of art, especially interested him. The streets were so narrow that it was sometimes doubtful whether the carriage could be squeezed through, and more than once it grazed the houses on either side as it pa.s.sed on.

'The work for which your father had come to Italy commenced at Genoa, and he was met there by a staff appointed by the Government to accompany him during his stay.

'While at Genoa he came to me one morning and said, that, in consequence of some delay, he had a week in which to make complete holiday, and gave me the choice of Florence or Rome. I need scarcely say that I chose Rome, and for three days we were in the Eternal City, seeing more in that time than those to whom we related our proceedings could believe.

'How well do I remember our entering Rome by the gate on the Civita Vecchia road, and standing up in the carriage to get our first view of St. Peter's, and, having seen it, the blank look of disappointment we turned on each other at the sight! But the interior of the great church as far exceeded our expectations as the exterior had fallen short of them.

'We were back at Genoa to the minute your father had appointed; and the work being completed there, we went on to Turin. Here we were in time to be present at the Court b.a.l.l.s and ceremonies consequent upon the marriage of the present King of Italy.

'From Turin we proceeded to Milan.

'At Milan your father parted from his staff, and completed the work he had undertaken as far as it was necessary to do so in Italy.

From Milan, therefore, our journey home was one of uninterrupted enjoyment through those glorious Lombard towns to Venice, which happily we reached in a gondola from Mestre, and not by a railway viaduct; then through the Tyrol to Munich, and so down the Rhine to Belgium, reaching home from Antwerp.

'Thus was completed an expedition in which there was neither hitch nor disagreeable adventure of any kind, and upon which I look back with unmixed pleasure.

'The next and last time that your father and I journeyed on the Continent together was in April 1848, when he wished to see Paris in Republican garb, and asked me to accompany him.

'We were there for some days, and, armed with cards of admission, on which our names were inscribed with the prefix of ”Citoyen,”

heard and saw the various celebrities of the hour.

'Affectionately yours, J. C. HORSLEY.

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