"We cannot get Edwards to be a ladies' man at all. He will not visit among the young ladies; he is as old as fifty, at least."

This same youthful misogynist and philosopher also writes to his brother on January 11: "I intend soon writing another letter in which I shall prove to your satisfaction that poetry is much superior to painting. You asserted the contrary in one of your letters, and brought an argument to prove it. I shall show the fallacy of that argument, and bring those to support my doctrine which are incontrovertible."

A letter from his friend, Mrs. Jarvis, the sister of his erstwhile flame, Miss Jannette Hart, informs him of the marriage of another sister to Captain Hull of the navy, commander of the Constitution. In this letter, written on March 4, 1813, at Bloomingdale, New York City, Mrs. Jarvis says:—

"I am in general proud of the spirit of my countrymen, but there is too little attention paid to the fine arts, to men of taste and science. Man here is weighed by his purse, not by his mind, and, according to the preponderance of that, he rises or sinks in the scale of individual opinion. A fine painting or marble statue is very rare in the houses of the rich of this city, and those individuals who would not pay fifty pounds for either, expend double that sum to vie with a neighbor in a piece of furniture.

"But do not tell tales. I would not say this to an Englishman, and I trust you have not yet become one. This, however, is poor encouragement for you to return to your native country. I hope better things of that country before you may return."

A friend in Philadelphia writes to him on May 3, 1813:—

"Your favor I received from the hands of Mr. King, and have been very much gratified with the introduction it afforded me to this worthy gentleman. You have doubtless heard of his safe arrival in our city, and of his having commenced his career in America, where, I am sorry to say, the arts are not, as yet, so much patronized as I hope to see them. Those of us who love them are too poor, and those who are wealthy regard them but little. I think, however, I have already witnessed an improvement in this respect, and the rich merchants and professional men are becoming more and more liberal in their patronage of genius, when they find it among native Americans.

"From the favorable circumstances under which your studies are progressing; from the unrivalled talents of the gentleman who conducts them; and, without flattery, suffer me to add, from the early proofs of your own genius, I anticipate, in common with many of our fellow citizens, the addition of one artist to our present roll whose name shall stand high among those of American painters.

"In your companion Leslie we also calculate on a very distinguished character.

"Our Academy of Fine Arts has begun the all-important study of the live figure. Mr. Sully, Mr. Peale, Mr. Fainnan, Mr. King, and several others have devoted much attention to this branch of the school, and I hope to see it in their hands highly useful and improving.

"The last annual exhibition was very splendid for us. Some very capital landscapes were produced, many admirable portraits and one or two historical pictures.

"The most conspicuous paintings were Mr. Peale's picture of the 'Roman Charity' (or, if you please, the 'Grecian Daughter,' for Murphy has it so), and Mr. Sully's 'Lady of the Lake.'"

In a letter of May 30, 1818, to a friend, Morse says:—

"You ask in your letter what books I read and what I am painting. The little time that I can spare from painting I employ in reading and studying the old poets, Spenser, Chaucer, Dante, Tasso, etc. These are necessary to a painter.

"As to painting, I have just finished a large picture, eight feet by six feet six inches, the subject, the 'Death of Hercules,' which is now in the Royal Academy Exhibition at Somerset House. I have been flattered by the newspapers which seldom praise young artists, and they do me the honor to say that my picture, with that of another young man by the name of Monroe, form a distinguishing trait in this year's exhibition....

"This praise I consider much exaggerated. Mr. West, however, who saw it as soon as I had finished it, paid me many compliments, and told me that, were I to live to his age, I should never make a better composition. This I consider but a compliment and as meant only to encourage me, and as such I receive it.

"I mention these circumstances merely to show that I am getting along as well as can be expected, and, if any credit attaches to me, I willingly resign it to my country, and feel happy that I can contribute a mite to her honor.

"The American character stands high in this country as to the production of artists, but in nothing else (except, indeed, I may now say bravery). Mr. West now stands at the head, and has stood ever since the arts began to flourish in this country, which is only about fifty years. Mr. Copley next, then Colonel Trumbull. Stuart in America has no rival here. As these are now old men and going off the stage, Mr. Allston succeeds in the prime of life, and will, in the opinion of the greatest connoisseurs in this country, carry the art to greater perfection than it ever has been carried either in ancient or modern times.... After him is a young man from Philadelphia by the name of Leslie, who is my room-mate."

How fallible is contemporary judgment on the claims of so-called genius to immortality. "For many are called, but few are chosen."

In another letter to his parents written about this time, after telling of his economies in order to make the money, advanced so cheerfully but at the cost of so much self-sacrifice on their part, last as long as possible, he adds:

"My greatest expense, next to living, is for canvas, frames, colors, etc., and visiting galleries. The frame of my large picture, which I have just finished, cost nearly twenty pounds, besides the canvas and colors, which cost nearly eight pounds more, and the frame was the cheapest I could possibly get. Mr. Allston's frame cost him sixty guineas.

"Frames are very expensive things, and, on that account, I shall not attempt another large picture for some time, although Mr. West advises me to paint large as much as possible.

"The picture which I have finished is 'The Death of Hercules'; the size is eight feet by six feet six inches. This picture I showed to Mr. West a few weeks ago, and he was extremely pleased with it and paid me very many high compliments; but as praise comes better from another than from one's self, I shall send you a complimentary note which Mr. West has promised to send me on the occasion.

"I sent the picture to the Exhibition at Somerset House which opens on the 3d of May, and have the satisfaction not only of having it received, but of having the praises of the council who decide on the admission of pictures. Six hundred were refused admission this year, so you may suppose that a picture (of the size of mine, too) must possess some merit to be received in preference to six hundred. A small picture may be received even if it is not very good, because it will serve to fill up some little space which would otherwise be empty, but a large one, from its excluding many smaller ones, must possess a great deal in its favor in order to be received.

"If you recollect I told you I had completed a model of a single figure of the same subject. This I sent to the Society of Arts at the Adelphi, to stand for the prize (which is offered every year for the best performance in painting, sculpture, and architecture and is a gold medal).

"Yesterday I received the note accompanying this, by which you will see that it is adjudged to me in sculpture this year. It will be delivered to me in public on the 13th of May or June, I don't know which, but I shall give you a particular account of the whole process as soon as I have received it.... I cannot close this letter without telling you how much I am indebted to that excellent man Mr. Allston. He is extremely partial to me and has often told me that he is proud of calling me his pupil. He visits me every evening and our conversation is generally upon the inexhaustible subject of our divine art, and upon home which is next in our thoughts.

"I know not in what terms to speak of Mr. Allston. I can truly say I do not know the slightest imperfection in him. He is amiable, affectionate, learned, possessed of the greatest powers of mind and genius, modest, unassuming, and, above all, a religious man.... I could write a quire of paper in his praise, but all I could say of him would give you but a very imperfect idea of him....

"You must recollect, when you tell friends that I am studying in England, that I am a pupil of Allston and not Mr. West. They will not long ask who Mr. Allston is; he will very soon astonish the world. He claims me as his pupil, and told me a day or two since, in a jocose manner, that he should have a battle with Mr. West unless he gave up all pretension to me."

We gain further information concerning Morse's first triumphs, his painting and his statuette from the following reminiscences of a friend, Mr. Dunlap:—

"It was about the year 1812 that Allston commenced his celebrated picture of the 'Dead Man restored to Life by touching the Bones of Elisha,' which is now in the Pennsylvania Academy of Arts. In the study of this picture he made a model in clay of the head of the dead man to assist him in painting the expression. This was the practice of the most eminent old masters. Morse had begun a large picture to come out before the British public at the Royal Academy Exhibition. The subject was the 'Dying Hercules,' and, in order to paint it with the more effect, he followed the example of Allston and determined to model the figure in clay. It was his first attempt at modelling.

"His original intention was simply to complete such parts of the figure as were useful in the single view necessary for the purpose of painting; but, having done this, he was encouraged, by the approbation of Allston and other artists, to finish the entire figure.

"After completing it, he had it cast in plaster of Paris and carried it to show to West, who seemed more than pleased with it. After surveying it all round critically, with many exclamations of surprise, he sent his servant to call his son Raphael. As soon as Raphael made his appearance West pointed to the figure and said: 'Look there, sir; I have always told you any painter can make a sculptor.'

"From this model Morse painted his picture of the 'Dying Hercules,' of colossal size, and sent it, in May, 1813, to the Royal Academy Exhibition at Somerset House."

The picture was well received. A critic of one of the journals of that day in speaking of the Royal Academy thus notices Morse:—

"Of the academicians two or three have distinguished themselves in a preeminent degree; besides, few have added much to their fame, perhaps they have hardly sustained it. But the great feature in this exhibition is that it presents several works of very high merit by artists with whose performances, and even with whose names, we were hitherto unacquainted. At the head of this class are Messrs. Monroe and Morse. The prize of history may be contended for by Mr. Northcote and Mr. Stothard. We should award it to the former. After these gentlemen Messrs. Hilton, Turner, Lane, Monroe, and Morse follow in the same class." (London "Globe," May 14, 1813.)



In commemorating the "preeminent works of this exhibition," out of nearly two thousand pictures, this critic places the "Dying Hercules" among the first twelve.

On June 13, 1813, Morse thus writes to his parents:—

"I send by this opportunity (Mr. Elisha Goddard) the little cast of the Hercules which obtained the prize this year at the Adelphi, and also the gold medal, which was the premium presented to me, before a large assembly of the nobility and gentry of the country, by the Duke of Norfolk, who also paid me a handsome compliment at the same time.

"There were present Lord Percy, the Margravine of Anspach, the Turkish, Sardinian, and Russian Ambassadors, who were pointed out to me, and many noblemen whom I do not now recollect.

"My great picture also has not only been received at the Royal Academy, but has one of the finest places in the rooms. It has been spoken of in the papers, which you must know is considered a great compliment; for a young artist, unless extraordinary, is seldom or never mentioned till he has exhibited several times. They not only praise me, but place my picture among the most attractive in the exhibition. This I know will give you pleasure."



CHAPTER VI

JULY 10, 1813—APRIL 6, 1814

Letter from the father on economies and political views.—Morse deprecates lack of spirit in New England and rejoices at Wellington's victories.—Allston's poems.—Morse coat-of-arms.—Letter of Joseph Hillhouse.—Letter of exhortation from his mother.—Morse wishes to stay longer in Europe.—Amused at mother's political views.—The father sends more money for a longer stay.—Sidney exalts poetry above painting.—His mother warns him against infidels and actors.—Bristol.—Optimism.— Letter on infidels and his own religious observances.—Future of American art.—He is in good health, but thin.—Letter from Mr. Visger.—Benjamin Burritt, American prisoner.—Efforts in his behalf unsuccessful.—Capture of Paris by the Allies.—Again expresses gratitude to parents.—Writes a play for Charles Mathews.—Not produced.

The detailed accounts of his economies which the young man sent home to his parents seem to have deeply touched them, for on July 10, 1813, his father writes to him: "Your economy, industry, and success in pursuing your professional studies give your affectionate parents the highest gratification and reward. We wish you to avoid carrying your economy to an extreme. Let your appearance be suited to the respectable company you keep, and your living such as will conduce most effectually to preserve health of body and vigor of mind. We shall all be willing to make sacrifices at home so far as may be necessary to the above purposes."

Farther on in this same letter the father says: "The character you give of Mr. Allston is, indeed, an exalted one, and we believe it correctly drawn. Your ardor has given it a high coloring, but the excess is that of an affectionate and grateful heart."

Referring to his son's political views, he answers in these broad-minded words:—

"I approve your love of your country and concern for its honor. Your errors, as we think them, appear to be the errors of a fair and honest mind, and are of a kind to be effectually cured by correct information of facts on both sides.

"Probably we may err because we are ignorant of many things which have fallen under your notice. We shall no doubt agree when we shall have opportunity to compare notes, and each is made acquainted with all that the other knows. I confidently expect an honorable peace in the course of six months, but may be deceived, as the future course of things cannot be foreseen.

"The present is one of the finest and most promising seasons I ever knew; the harvest to appearance will be very abundant. Heaven appears to be rewarding this part of the country for their conduct in opposing the present war."

Perhaps the good father did not mean to be malicious, but this is rather a wicked little thrust at the son's vehemently expressed political views. On this very same date, July 10, 1813, Morse writes to his parents:—

"I have just heard of the unfortunate capture of the Chesapeake. Is our infant Hercules to be strangled at his birth? Where is the spirit of former times which kindled in the hearts of the Bostonians? Will they still be unmoved, or must they learn from more bitter experience that Britain is not for peace, and that the only way to procure it is to join heart and hand in a vigorous prosecution of the war?

"It is not the time now to think of party; the country is in danger; but I hope to hear soon that the honor of our navy is retrieved. The brave Captain Lawrence will never, I am sure, be forgotten; his career of glory has been short but brilliant.

"All is rejoicing here; illuminations and fireworks and feux de joie for the capture of the Chesapeake and a victory in Spain.

"Imagine yourself, if possible, in my situation in an enemy's country and hearing songs of triumph and exultation on the misfortunes of my countrymen, and this, too, on the 4th of July. A less ardent spirit than mine might perhaps tolerate it, but I cannot. I do long to be at home, to be in the navy, and teach these insolent Englishmen how to respect us....

"The Marquis Wellington has achieved a great victory in Spain, and bids fair to drive the French out very soon. At this I rejoice as ought every man who abhors tyranny and loves liberty. I wish the British success against everything but my country. I often say with Cowper: 'England, with all thy faults, I love thee still.'

"I am longing for Edwards' comparison between poetry and painting, and to know how he will prove the former superior to the latter. A painter must be a poet, but a poet need not be a painter. How will he get over this argument?

"By the way, Mr. Allston has just published a volume of poems, a copy of which I will endeavor to send you. They are but just published, so that the opinion of the public is not yet ascertained, but there is no doubt they will forever put at rest the calumny that America has never produced a poet.

"I have lately been enquiring for the coat-of-arms which belongs to the Morse family. For this purpose I wish to know from what part of this Kingdom the Morses emigrated, and if you can recollect anything that belongs to the arms. If you will answer these questions minutely, I can, for half a crown, ascertain the arms and crest which belong to the family, which (as there is a degree of importance attached to heraldry in this country) may be well to know. I have seen the arms of one Morse which have been in the family three hundred years. So we can trace our antiquity as far as any family."

A letter from a college-mate, Mr. Joseph Hillhouse, written in Boston on July 12, 1813, gives a pretty picture of Morse's home, and contains some quaint gossip which I shall transcribe:—

"On Saturday afternoon the beauty of the weather invited my cousin Catherine Borland, my sister Mary (who is here on a visit), and myself to take a walk over to Charlestown for the purpose of paying a visit to your good parents. We found them just preparing tea, and at once concluded to join the family party.

"Present to the eye of your fancy the closing-in of a fine, blue-skied, sunny American Saturday evening, whose tranquillity and repose rendered it the fit precursor of the Sabbath. Imagine the tea-table placed in your sitting-parlor, all the windows open, and round it, first, the housekeeper pouring out tea; next her, Miss C. Borland; next her, your mother, whose looks spoke love as often as you were mentioned, and that was not infrequently, I assure you. On your mother's right sat my sister, next whom was your father in his long green-striped study gown, his apostolic smile responding to the eye of your mother when his dear son was his theme. I was placed (and an honorable post I considered it) at his right hand.

"There the scene for you. Can you paint it? Neither of your brothers was at home....

"In home news we have little variety. The sister of your quondam flame, Miss Ann Hart, bestowed her hand last winter on Victory as personified in our little fat captain, Isaac Hull, who is now reposing in the shade of his laurels, and amusing himself in directing the construction of a seventy-four at Portsmouth. Where the fair excellence, Miss Jannette herself, is at present, I am unable to say. The sunshine of her eyes has not beamed upon me since I beheld you delightedly and gallantly figuring at her side at Daddy Value's ball, where I exhibited sundry feats of the same sort myself.

"By the way, Mons. V. is still in fiddling condition, and the immaculate Ann Jane Caroline Gibbs, Madame, has bestowed a subject on the state!!

"A fortnight since your friend Nancy Goodrich was married to William Ellsworth. Emily Webster is soon to plight her faith to his brother Henry. Miss Mary Ann Woolsey thinks of consummating the blessedness of a Mr. Scarborough before the expiration of the summer. He is a widower of thirty or thirty-five with one child, a little girl four or five years old.

"Thus, you see, my dear friend, all here seem to be setting their faces heavenward; all seem ambitious of repairing the ravages of war....

"P.S. Oh! horrid mistake I made on the preceding page! Nancy and Emily, on my knees I deprecate your wrath!! I have substituted William for Henry and Henry for William. No, Henry is Nancy's and William Emily's. They are twins, and I, forsooth, must make them changelings!"

In a letter of July 30, 1813, his mother thus exhorts him:—

"I hope, my dear son, your success in your profession will not have a tendency to make you vain, or embolden you to look down on any in your profession whom Providence may have been less favorable to in point of talents for this particular business; and that you will observe a modesty in the reception of premiums and praises on account of your talents, that shall show to those who bestow them that you are worthy of them in more senses than merely as an artist. It will likewise convince those who are less favored that you are far from exulting in their disappointments,—as I hope is truly the case,—and prevent that jealousy and envy that too often discovers itself in those of the same profession....

"We exceedingly rejoice in all your success, and hope you will persevere. Remember, my son, it is easier to get a reputation than to keep it unspotted in the midst of so much pollution as we are surrounded by....

"C. Dexter thanks you for your attention to her request as it respects Southey's likeness. She does not wish you to take too much pains and trouble to get it, but she, I know, would be greatly pleased if you should send her one of him. If you should get acquainted with him, inform him that a very sensible, fine young lady in America requested it (but don't tell him her name) from having read his works."

In a long letter of August 10 and 26, 1813, after again giving free rein to his political feelings, he returns to the subject of his art:—

"Mr. West promised me a note to you, but he is an old man and very forgetful, and I suppose he has forgotten it. I don't wish to remind him of it directly, but, if in the course of conversation I can contrive to mention it, I will....

"With respect to returning home next summer, Mr. Allston and Mr. West think it would be an injury to me. Mr. Allston says I ought not to return till I am a painter. I long to return as much as you can wish to have me, but, if you can spare me a little longer, I should wish it. I abide your decision, however, completely. Mr. Allston will write you fully on this subject, and I will endeavor to persuade Mr. West also to do it.

"France I could not, at present, visit with advantage; that is to say for, perhaps, a year. Mr. Allston thinks I ought to be previously well grounded in the principles of the English school to resist the corruptions of the French school; for they are corrupt in the principles of painting, as in religion and everything else; but, when well grounded in the good principles of this school, I could study and select the few beauties of the French without being in danger of following their many errors. The Louvre also would, in about a year, be of the greatest advantage to me, and also the fine works in Italy....

"Mama has amused me very much in her letter where she writes on politics. She says that, next to changing one's religion, she would dislike a man for changing his politics. Mama, perhaps, is not aware that she would in this way shut the door completely to conviction in anything. It would imply that, because a man is educated in error, he must forever live in error. I know exactly how mama feels; she thinks, as I did when at home, that it was impossible for the Federalists to be in the wrong; but, as all men are fallible, I think they may stand a chance of being wrong as well as any other class of people....

"Mama thinks my 'error' arises from wrong information. I will ask mama which of us is likely to get at the truth; I, who am in England and can see and hear all their motives for acting as they have done; or mama, who gets her information from the Federal papers, second-hand, with numerous additions and improvements made to answer party purposes, distorted and misrepresented?

"But to give you an instance. In the Massachusetts remonstrance they attribute the repeal of the Orders in Council to the kind disposition of the English Government, and a wish on their part to do justice, whereas it is notorious in this country that they repealed them on account of the injury it was doing themselves, and took America into consideration about as much as they did the inhabitants of Kamschatka. The conditional repeal of the Berlin and Milan decrees was a back door for them, and they availed themselves of it to sneak out of it. This necessity, this act of dire necessity, the Federal papers cry up as evincing a most forbearing spirit towards us, and really astonish the English themselves who never dreamt that it could be twisted in that way.

"Mama assigns as a reason for my thinking well of the English that they have been very polite to me, and that it is ingratitude in me if I do otherwise. A few individuals have treated me politely, and I do feel thankful and gratified for it; but a little politeness from an individual of one nation to an individual of another is certainly not a reason that the former's Government should be esteemed incapable of wrong by the latter. I esteem the English as a nation; I rejoice in their conquests on the Continent, and would love them heartily, if they would let me; but I am afraid to tell them this, they are already too proud.

"Their treatment of America is the worse for it. They are like a poor man who has got a lottery ticket and draws a great prize, and when his poor neighbor comes sincerely to congratulate him on his success, he holds up his head, and, turning up his nose, tells him that now he is his superior and then kicks him out of doors.

"Papa says he expects peace in six months. It may be in the disposition of America to make peace, but not in the will of the English. It is in the power of the Federalists to force her to peace, but they will not do it, so she will force us to do it."

As in most discussions, political or otherwise, neither party seems to have been convinced by the arguments of the other, for the parents continue to urge him to leave politics alone; indeed, they insist on his doing so. They also urge him to make every effort to support himself, if he should decide to spend another year abroad, for they fear that they will be unable to send him any more money. However, the father, when he became convinced that it was really to his son's interest to spend another year abroad, contrived to send him another thousand dollars. This was done at the cost of great self-sacrifice on the part of himself and his family, and was all the more praiseworthy on that account.

In a letter from his brother Edwards, written also on the 17th of November, is this passage: "I must defer giving my reasons for thinking Poetry superior to Painting; I will mention only a few of the principles upon which I found my judgment. Genius in both these arts is the power of making impressions. The question then is: which is capable of making the strongest impression; which can impress upon the mind most strongly a sublime or a beautiful idea? Does the sublimest passage in Milton excite a stronger sensation in the mind of a man of taste than the sublimest painting of Michael Angelo? Or, to make the parallel more complete, does Michael Angelo convey to you a stronger impression of the Last Judgment, by his painting, than Milton could by his poetry? Could Michael Angelo convey a more sublime idea of Death by his painting than Milton has in his 'Paradise Lost'? These are the principles upon which your 'divine art' is to be degraded below Poetry."

This was rather acute reasoning for a boy of twenty who had spent his life in the Boston and New Haven of those early days. The fact that he had never seen a great painting, whereas he had greedily read the poets, will probably account for his strong partisanship.

The pious mother writes on November 25, 1813:—

"With regard to the Americans being despised and hated in England, you were apprised by your Uncle Salisbury and others before you left this country that that was the case, and you ought not to be surprised when you realized it. The reason given was that a large portion of those who visit Europe are dissipated infidels, which has justly given the English a bad opinion of us as a nation. But we are happy to find that there are many exceptions to these, who do honor to the country which gave them birth, such as a West, an Allston, and many others, among whom, I am happy to say, we hope that you, my son, will be enrolled at no very distant day....

"You mention being acquainted with young Payne, the play actor. I would guard you against any acquaintance with that description of people, as it will, sooner or later, have a most corrupting effect on the morals, and, as a man is known by the company he keeps, I should be very sorry to have you enrolled with such society, however pure you may believe his morals to be.

"Your father and myself were eleven days in company with him in coming from Charleston, South Carolina. His behavior was quite unexceptionable then, but he is in a situation to ruin the best morals. I hope you do not attend the theatre, as I have ever considered it a most bewitching amusement, and ruinous both to soul and body. I would therefore guard you against it."

His brother Richard joined the rest of the family in urging the young and impulsive artist to leave politics alone, as we learn from the following words which begin a letter of November 27, 1813:—

MY DEAR BROTHER,—Your letters by the Neptune, and also the medal, gave us great pleasure. The politics, however, were very disagreeable and occupied no inconsiderable part of your letters. Your kind wishes for our reformation we must beg leave to retort by hoping for your speedy amendment.

There are gaps in the correspondence of this period. Many of the letters from both sides of the Atlantic seem never to have reached their destination, owing to the disturbed state of affairs arising from the war between the two countries.

The young artist had gone in October, 1813, to Bristol, at the earnest solicitation of friends in that city, and seems to have spent a pleasant and profitable five months there, painting a number of portraits. He refers to letters written from Bristol, but they were either never received or not preserved. Of other letters I have only fragments, and some that are quoted by Mr. Prime in his biography have vanished utterly. Still, from what remains, we can glean a fairly good idea of the life of the young man at that period. His parents continually begged him to leave politics alone and to tell them more of his artistic life, of his visits to interesting places, and of his intercourse with the literary and artistic celebrities of the day.

We, too, must regret that he did not write more fully on these subjects, for there must have been a mine of interesting material at his disposal. We also learn that there seems to have been a strange fatality attached to the little statuette of the "Dying Hercules," for, although he packed it carefully and sent it to Liverpool on June 18, 1813, to be forwarded to his parents, it never reached them until over two years later. The superstitious will say that the date of sending may have had something to do with this.

Up to this time everything, except the attitude of England towards America, had been couleur de rose to the enthusiastic young artist. He was making rapid progress in his studies and was receiving the encomiums of his fellow artists and of the critics. His parents were denying themselves in order to provide the means for his support, and, while he was duly appreciative of their goodness, he could not help taking it more or less as a matter of course. He was optimistic with regard to the future, falling into the common error of gifted young artists that, because of their artistic success, financial success must of necessity follow. He had yet to be proved in the school of adversity, and he had not long to wait. But I shall let the letters tell the story better than I can. The last letter from him to his parents from which I have quoted was written on August 12 and 26, 1813.

On March 12, 1814, he writes from London after his return from Bristol:—

"There is a great drawback to my writing long letters to you; I mean the uncertainty of their reaching you.

"Mama's long letter gave me particular pleasure. Some of her observations, however, made me smile, especially the reasons she assigns for the contempt and hatred of England for America. First, I am inclined to doubt the fact of there being so many infidel Americans in the country; second, if there were, there are not so many religious people here who would take the pains to enquire whether they had religion or not; and third, it is not by seeing the individual Americans that an opinion unfavorable to us is prevalent in England....

"With respect to my religious sentiments, they are unshaken; their influence, I hope, will always guide me through life. I hear various preachings on Sundays, sometimes Mr. Burder, but most commonly the Church of England clergy, as a church is in my neighborhood and Mr. B.'s three miles distant. I most commonly heard Dr. Biddulph, of St. James's Church, a most excellent, orthodox, evangelical man. I was on the point many times of going to hear Mr. Lowell, who is one of the dissenting clergymen of Bristol, but, as the weather proved very unfavorable, uncommonly so every Sunday I was there, and I was at a great distance from his church, I was disappointed. I shall endeavor to hear him preach when I go back to Bristol again."

This was in reply to many long exhortations in his parents' letters, and especially in his mother's, couched in the extravagant language of the very pious of those days, to seek first the welfare of his "never-dying soul."

"I have returned from Bristol to attend the exhibitions and to endeavor to get a picture into Somerset House. My stay in Bristol was very pleasant, indeed, as well as profitable. I was there five months and, in May, shall probably go again and stay all summer. I was getting into good business in the portrait way there, and, if I return, shall be enabled, probably, to support myself as long as I stay in England.

"The attention shown me by Mr. Harman Visger and family, whom I have mentioned in a former letter, I shall never forget. He is a rich merchant, an American (cousin to Captain Visscher, my fellow passenger, by whom I was introduced to him). He has a family of seven children. I lived within a few doors of him, and was in and out of his house ever day...."

Four pages of this letter are, unfortunately, missing. It begins again abruptly:—

"... prevented by illness from writing you before.

"I shall endeavor to support myself, if not, necessity will compel me to return home an unfinished painter; it depends altogether on circumstances. I may get a good run of portraits or I may not; it depends so much on the whim of the public; if they should happen to fancy my pictures, I shall succeed; if not, why, I shall not succeed. I am, however, encouraged to hope....

"If I am prohibited from writing or thinking of politics, I hope my brothers will not be so ungenerous as to give me any....

"Mr. Allston's large picture is now exhibiting in the British Gallery. It has excited a great deal of curiosity and he has obtained a wonderful share of praise for it.... The picture is very deservedly ranked among the highest productions of art, either in ancient or modern times. It is really a pleasant consideration that the palm of painting still rests with America, and is, in all probability, destined to remain with us. All we wish is a taste in the country and a little more wealth.... In order to create a taste, however, pictures, first-rate pictures, must be introduced into the country, for taste is only acquired by a close study of the merits of the old masters. In Philadelphia I am happy to find they have successfully begun. I wish Americans would unite in the thing, throw aside local prejudices and give their support to one institution. Let it be in Philadelphia, since it is so happily begun there, and let every American feel a pride in supporting that institution; let it be a national not a city institution. Then might the arts be so encouraged that Americans might remain at home and not, as at present, be under the painful necessity of exiling themselves from their country and their friends.

"This will come to pass in the course of time, but not in my day, I fear, unless there is more exertion made to forward the arts than at present...."

In this he proved a true prophet, and, as we shall see later, his exertions were a potent factor in establishing the fine arts on a firm basis in New York.

"I am in very good health and I hope I feel grateful for it. I have not been ill for two days together since I have been in England. I am, however, of the walking-stick order, and think I am thinner than I was at home. They all tell me so. I'm not so good-looking either, I am told; I have lost my color, grown more sallow, and have a face approaching to the hatchet class; but none of these things concern me; if I can paint good-looking, plump ladies and gentlemen, I shall feel satisfied....

"We have had a dreadfully severe winter here in England, such as has not been known for twenty-two years. When I came from Bristol the snow was up on each side of the road as high as the top of the coach in many places, especially on Marlborough Down and Hounslow Heath."

His friend Mr. Visger thus writes to him from Bristol on April 1, 1814:—

"It gave me pleasure to learn that Mr. Leslie sold his picture of Saul, etc., at so good a price. I hope it will stimulate a friend of his to use his best exertions and time to endeavor even to excel the 'Witch of Endor.' I think I perceive a few symptoms of amendment in him, and the request of his father that he must support himself is, in the opinion of his friends here, the best thing that could have befallen him. He will now have the pleasure to taste the sweets of his own labor, and I hope will, in reality, know what true independence is. Let him not despair and he will certainly succeed.

"Excuse my having taken up so much of your time in reading what I have written about Mr. Leslie's friend; I hope it will not make the pencil work less smoothly.

"It gave us all great pleasure to hear that Mr. Allston's 'Dead and Alive Man' got the prize. It would be a great addition to our pleasure to hear that those encouragers of the fine arts have offered him fifteen hundred or two thousand guineas for it....

"There is an old lady waiting your return to have her portrait painted. Bangley says one or two more are enquiring for Mr. Morse.

"You seem to have forgotten your friend in Stapleton prison. Did you not succeed in obtaining his release?"

This refers to a certain Mr. Benjamin Burritt, an American prisoner of war. Morse used every effort, through his friend Henry Thornton, to secure the release of Mr. Burritt. On December 30, 1813, he wrote to Mr. Thornton from Bristol:—

RESPECTED SIR,—I take the liberty of addressing you in behalf of an American prisoner of war now in the Stapleton depot, and I address you, sir, under the conviction that a petition in the cause of humanity will not be considered by you as obtrusive.

The prisoner I allude to is a gentleman of the name of Burritt, a native of New Haven, in the State of Connecticut; his connections are of the highest respectability in that city, which is notorious for its adherence to Federal principles. His friends and relatives are among my father's friends, and, although I was not, until now, personally acquainted with him, yet his face is familiar to me, and many of his relatives were my particular friends while I was receiving my education at Yale College in New Haven. From that college he was graduated in the year ——. A classmate of his was the Reverend Mr. Stuart, who is one of the professors of the Andover Theological Institution, and of whom, I think, my father has spoken in some of his letters to Mr. Wilberforce.

Mr. Burritt, after he left college, applied himself to study, so much so as to injure his health, and, by the advice of his physicians, he took to the sea as the only remedy left for him. This had the desired effect, and he was restored to health in a considerable degree.

Upon the breaking out of the war with this country, all the American coasting trade being destroyed, he took a situation as second mate in the schooner Revenge, bound to France, and was captured on the 10th of May, 1813.

Since that time he has been a prisoner, and, from the enclosed certificates, you will ascertain what has been his conduct. He is a man of excellent religious principles, and, I firmly believe, of the strictest integrity. So well assured am I of this that, in case it should be required, I will hold myself bound to answer for him in my own person.

His health is suffering by his confinement, and the unprincipled society, which he is obliged to endure, is peculiarly disagreeable to a man of his education.

My object in stating these particulars to you, sir, is (if possible and consistent with the laws of the country), to obtain for him, through your influence, his liberty on his parole of honor. By so doing you will probably be the means of preserving the life of a good man, and will lay his friends, my father, and myself under the greatest obligations.

Trusting to your goodness to pardon this intrusion upon your time, I am, sir, with the highest consideration,

Your most humble, obedient servant, SAMUEL F.B. MORSE.

To this Mr. Thornton replied:—

DEAR SIR,—You will perceive by the enclosed that there is, unhappily, no prospect of our effecting our wishes in respect to your poor friend at Bristol. I shall be glad to know whether you have had any success in obtaining a passport for Dr. Cushing.

I am, dear sir, yours, etc. H. THORNTON.

The enclosure referred to by Mr. Thornton was the following letter addressed to him by Lord Melville:—

SIR,—Mr. Hay having communicated to me a letter which he received from you on the subject of Benjamin Burritt, an American prisoner of war in the depot at Stapleton, I regret much that, after consulting on this case with Sir Rupert George, and ascertaining the usual course of procedure in similar instances, I cannot discover any circumstances that would justify a departure from the rules observed toward other prisoners of the same description.

There can be no question that his case is a hard one, but I am afraid that it is inseparable from a state of war. It is not only not a solitary instance among the French and American prisoners, but, unless we were prepared to adopt the system of releasing all others of the same description, we should find that the number who might justly complain of undue partiality to this man would be very considerable.

I have the honor to be, sir, your most obedient and very humble servant, MELVILLE.

This was a great disappointment to Morse, who had set his heart on being the means of securing the liberty of this unfortunate man. He was compelled to bow to the inevitable, however, and after this he did what he could to make the unhappy situation of the prisoner more bearable by extending to him financial assistance, although he had but little to spare at that time himself, and could but ill afford the luxury of giving.

Great events were occurring on the Continent at this time, and it is interesting to note how the intelligence of them was received in England by an enthusiastic student, not only of the fine arts, but of the humanities, who felt that, in this case, his sympathies and those of his family were in accord:—

April 6, 1814.

MY DEAR PARENTS,—I write in much haste, but it is to inform you of a most glorious event, no less than the capture of Paris, by the Allies. They entered it last Thursday, and you may conceive the sensations of the people of England on the occasion. As the cartel is the first vessel which will arrive in America to carry the news, I hope I shall have the great satisfaction of hearing that I am the first who shall inform you of this great event; the particulars you will see nearly as soon as this.

I congratulate you and the rest of the good people of the world on the occasion. Despotism and Usurpation are fallen, never, I hope, to rise again. But what gives me the greatest pleasure in the contemplation of this occurrence is the spirit of religion and, consequently, of humanity which has constantly marked the conduct of the Allies. Their moderation through all their unparallelled successes cannot be too much extolled; they merit the grateful remembrance of posterity, who will bless them as the restorers of a blessing but little enjoyed by the greater part of mankind for centuries. I mean the inestimable blessing of Peace.

But I must cut short my feelings on the subject; were I to give them scope they would fill quires; they are as ardent as yours possibly can be. Suffice it to say that I see the hand of Providence so strongly in it that I think an infidel must be converted by it, and I hope I feel as a Christian should on such an occasion.

I am well, in excellent spirits and shall use my utmost endeavors to support myself, for now more than ever is it necessary for me to stay in Europe. Peace is inevitable, and the easy access to the Continent and the fine works of art there render it doubly important that I should improve them to my utmost.

I cannot ask more of my parents than they have done for me, but the struggle will be hard for me to get along and improve myself at the same time. Portraits are the only things which can support me at present, but it is insipid, indeed, for one who wishes to be at the head of the first branch of the art, to be stopped halfway, and be obliged to struggle with the difficulty of maintaining himself, in addition to the other difficulties attendant on the profession.

But it is impossible to place this in a clear light in a letter. I wish I could talk with you on the subject, and I could in a short time make it clear to you. I cannot ask it of you and I do not till I try what I can do. You have already done more than I deserved and it would be ingratitude in me to request more of you, and I do not; only I say these things that you may not expect so much from me in the way of improvement as you may have been led to suppose.

Morse seems to have made an excursion into dramatic literature at about this time, as the following draft of a letter, without date, but evidently written to the celebrated actor Charles Mathews, will testify:—

Not having the honor of a personal acquaintance with you, I have taken the liberty of enclosing to you a farce which, if, on perusal, you should think worthy of the stage, I beg you to accept, to be performed, if consistent with your plans, on the night appointed for your benefit.

If I should be so much favored as to obtain your good opinion of it, the approbation alone of Mr. Mathews will be a sufficient reward for the task of writing it.

The pleasure which I have so often received from you in the exercise of your comic powers would alone prompt me to make some return which might show you, at least, that I can be grateful to those who have at any time afforded me pleasure.

With respect to your accepting or not accepting it, I wish you to act your pleasure entirely. If you think it will be of benefit to you by drawing a full house, or in any other way, it is perfectly at your service. If you think it will not succeed, will you have the goodness to enclose it under cover and direct to Mr. T.G.S., artist, 82 Great Titchfield Street; and I assure you beforehand that you need be under no apprehension of giving me mortification by refusing it. It would only convince me that I had not dramatic talents, and would serve, perhaps, to increase my ardor in the pursuit of my professional studies. If, however, it should meet with your approbation and you should wish to see me on the subject, a line directed as above enclosing your address shall receive immediate attention.

I am as yet undecided what shall be its name. The character of Oxyd I had designed for you. The farce is a first attempt and has received the approbation, not only of my theatrical friends generally, but of some confessed critics by whom it has been commended.

With sentiments of respect and esteem I remain, Your most obedient humble servant, T.G.S.

As no further mention of this play is made I fear that the great Charles Mathews did not find it available. There is also no trace of the play itself among the papers, which is rather to be regretted. We can only surmise that Morse came to the conclusion (very wisely) that he had no "dramatic talents," and that he turned to the pursuit of his professional studies with increased ardor.



CHAPTER VII

MAY 2, 1814—OCTOBER 11, 1814

Allston writes encouragingly to the parents.—Morse unwilling to be mere portrait-painter.—Ambitious to stand at the head of his profession.— Desires patronage from wealthy friends.—Delay in the mails.—Account of entree of Louis XVIII into London.—The Prince Regent.—Indignation at acts of English.—His parents relieved at hearing from him after seven months' silence.—No hope of patronage from America.—His brothers.— Account of fetes.—Emperor Alexander, King of Prussia, Bluecher, Platoff. —Wishes to go to Paris.—Letter from M. Van Schaick about battle of Lake Erie.—Disgusted with England.

Morse had now spent nearly three years in England. He was maturing rapidly in every way, and what his master thought of him is shown in this extract from a letter of Washington Allston to the anxious parent at home:—

"With regard to the progress which your son has made, I have the pleasure to say that it is unusually great for the time he has been studying, and indeed such as to make me proud of him as a pupil and to give every promise of future eminence....

"Should he be obliged to return now to America, I much fear that all which he has acquired would be rendered abortive. It is true he could there paint very good portraits, but I should grieve to hear at any future period that, on the foundation now laid, he shall have been able to raise no higher superstructure than the fame of a portrait-painter. I do not intend here any disrespect to portrait-painting; I know it requires no common talent to excel in it....

"In addition to this professional report I have the sincere satisfaction to give my testimony to his conduct as a man, which is such as to render him still worthy of being affectionately remembered by his moral and religious friends in America. This is saying a great deal for a young man of two-and-twenty in London, but is not more than justice requires me to say of him."

On May 2, 1814, Morse writes home:—

"You ask if you are to expect me the next summer. This leads me to a little enlargement on the peculiar circumstances in which I am now placed. Mr. Allston's letter by the same cartel will convince you that industry and application have not been wanting on my part, that I have made greater progress than young men generally, etc., etc., and of how great importance it is to me to remain in Europe for some time yet to come. Indeed I feel it so much so myself that I shall endeavor to stay at all risks. If I find that I cannot support myself, that I am contracting debts which I have no prospect of paying, I shall then return home and settle down into a mere portrait-painter for some time, till I can obtain sufficient to return to Europe again; for I cannot be happy unless I am pursuing the intellectual branch of the art. Portraits have none of it; landscape has some of it, but history has it wholly. I am certain you would not be satisfied to see me sit down quietly, spending my time in painting portraits, throwing away the talents which Heaven has given me for the higher branches of art, and devoting my time only to the inferior.

"I need not tell you what a difficult profession I have undertaken. It has difficulties in itself which are sufficient to deter any man who has not firmness enough to go through with it at all hazards, without meeting with any obstacles aside from it. The more I study it, the more I am enchanted with it; and the greater my progress, the more am I struck with its beauties, and the perseverance of those who have dared to pursue it through the thousands of natural hindrances with which the art abounds.

"I never can feel too grateful to my parents for having assisted me thus far in my profession. They have done more than I had any right to expect; they have conducted themselves with a liberality towards me, both in respect to money and to countenancing me in the pursuit of one of the noblest of professions, which has not many equals in this country. I cannot ask of them more; it would be ingratitude.

"I am now in the midst of my studies when the great works of ancient art are of the utmost service to me. Political events have just thrown open the whole Continent; the whole world will now leave war and bend their attention to the cultivation of the arts of peace. A golden age is in prospect, and art is probably destined to again revive as in the fifteenth century.

"The Americans at present stand unrivalled, and it is my great ambition (and it is certainly a commendable one) to stand among the first. My country has the most prominent place in my thoughts. How shall I raise her name, how can I be of service in refuting the calumny, so industriously spread against her, that she has produced no men of genius? It is this more than anything (aside from painting) that inspires me with a desire to excel in my art. It arouses my indignation and gives me tenfold energy in the pursuit of my studies. I should like to be the greatest painter purely out of revenge.

"But what a damper is thrown upon my enthusiasm when I find that, the moment when all the treasures of art are before me, just within my reach; that advantages to the artist were never greater than now; Paris with all its splendid depository of the greatest works but a day or two's journey from me, and open to my free inspection,—what a damper, I say, is it to find that my three years' allowance is just expired; that while all my contemporary students and companions are revelling in these enjoyments, and rapidly advancing in their noble studies, they are leaving me behind, either to return to my country, or, by painting portraits in Bristol, just to be able to live through the year. The thought makes me melancholy, and, for the first time since I left home, have I had one of my desponding fits. I have got over it now, for I would not write to you in that mood for the world. My object in stating this is to request patronage from some rich individual or individuals for a year or two longer at the rate of L250 per year. This to be advanced to me, and, if required, to be returned in money as soon as I shall be able, or by pictures to the amount when I have completed my studies.... If Uncle Salisbury or Miss Russell could do it, it would be much more grateful to me than from any others....

"The box containing my plaster cast I found, on enquiry, is still at Liverpool where it has been, to my great disappointment, now nearly a year. I have given orders to have it sent by the first opportunity. Mr. Wilder will tell you that he came near taking out my great picture of the Hercules to you. It seems as though it is destined that nothing of mine shall reach you. I packed it up at a moment's warning and sent it to Liverpool to go by the cartel, and I found it arrived the day after she had sailed. I hope it will not be long before both the boxes will have an opportunity of reaching you.

"I am exceedingly sorry you have forgotten a passage in one of my letters where I wished you not to feel anxious if you did not hear from me as often as you had done. I stated the reason, that opportunities were less frequent, more circuitous, and attended with greater interruptions. I told you that I should write at least once in three weeks, and that you must attribute it to anything but neglect on my part.

"Your last letter has hurt me considerably, for, owing to some accident or other, my letters have miscarried, and you upbraid me with neglect, and fear that I am not as industrious or correct as formerly. I know you don't wish to hurt me, but I cannot help feeling hurt when I think that my parents have not the confidence which I thought they had in me; that some interruptions, which all complain of and which are natural to a state of warfare, having prevented letters, which I have written, from being received; instead of making allowances for these things, to have them attribute it to a falling-off in industry and attention wounds me a great deal. Mrs. Allston, to her great surprise, received just such a letter from her friends, and it hurt her so that she was ill in consequence....

"I dine at Mr. Macaulay's at five o'clock to-day, and shall attend the House of Commons to-morrow evening, where I expect to hear Mr. Wilberforce speak on the Slave Trade, with reference to the propriety of making the universal abolition of it an article in the pending negotiations. If I have time in this letter I will give you some account of it. In the mean time I will give you a slight account of some scenes of which I have been a happy witness in the great drama now acting in the Theatre of Europe.

"You will probably, before this reaches you, hear of the splendid entree of Louis XVIII into London. I was a spectator of this scene. On the morning of the day, about ten o'clock, I went into Piccadilly through which the procession was to pass. I did not find any great concourse of people at that hour except before the Pultney Hotel, where the sister of Emperor Alexander resides on a visit to this country, the Grand Duchess of Oldenburg. I thought it probable that, as the procession would pass this place, there would be some uncommon occurrence taking place before it, so I took my situation directly opposite, determined, at any rate, to secure a good view of what happened.

"I waited four or five hours, during which time the people began to collect from all quarters; the carriages began to thicken, the windows and fronts of the houses began to be decorated with the white flag, white ribbons, and laurel. Temporary seats were fitted up on all sides, which began to be filled, and all seemed to be in preparation. About this time the King's splendid band of music made its appearance, consisting, I suppose, of more than fifty musicians, and, to my great gratification, placed themselves directly before the hotel. They began to play, and soon after the grand duchess, attended by several Russian noblemen, made her appearance on the balcony, followed by the Queen of England, the Princess Charlotte of Wales, the Princess Mary, Princess Elizabeth, and all the female part of the royal family. From this fortunate circumstance you will see that I had an excellent opportunity of observing their persons and countenances.

"The Duchess of Oldenburg is a common-sized woman of about four or five and twenty; she has rather a pleasant countenance, blue eyes, pale complexion, regular features, her cheek-bones high, but not disagreeably so. She resembles very much her brother the Emperor, judging from his portrait. She had with her her little nephew, Prince Alexander, a boy of about three or four years old. He was a lively little fellow, playing about, and was the principal object of the attention of the royal family.

"The Queen, if I was truly directed to her, is an old woman of very sallow complexion, and nothing agreeable either in her countenance or deportment; and, if she was not called a queen, she might as well be any ugly old woman. The Princess Charlotte of Wales I thought pretty; she has small features, regular, pale complexion, great amiability of expression and condescension of manners; the Princess Elizabeth is extremely corpulent, and, from what I could see of her face, was agreeable though nothing remarkable.

"One of the others, I think it was the Princess Mary, appeared to have considerable vivacity in her manners; she was without any covering to her head, her hair was sandy, which she wore cropped; her complexion was probably fair originally, but was rather red now; her features were agreeable.

"It now began to grow late, the people were beginning to be tired, wanting their dinners, and the crowd to thicken, when a universal commotion and murmur through the crowd and from the housetops indicated that the procession was at hand. This was followed by the thunder of artillery and the huzzas of the people toward the head of the street, where the houses seemed to be alive with the twirling of hats and shaking of handkerchiefs. This seemed to mark the progress of the King; for, as he came opposite each house, these actions became most violent, with cries of 'Vivent les Bourbons!' 'Vive le Roi!' 'Vive Louis!' etc.

"I now grew several inches taller; I stretched my neck and opened my eyes. One carriage appeared, drawn by six horses, decorated with ribbons, and containing some of the French noblesse; another, of the same description, with some of the French royal family. At length came a carriage drawn by eight beautiful Arabian cream-colored horses. In this were seated Louis XVIII, King of France, the Prince Regent of England, the Duchesse d'Angouleme, daughter of Louis XVI, and the Prince of Conde. They passed rather quickly, so that I had but a glance at them, though a distinct one. The Prince Regent I had often seen before; the King of France I had a better sight of afterwards, as I will presently relate. The Duchesse d'Angouleme had a fine expression of countenance, owing probably to the occasion, but a melancholy cast was also visible through it; she was pale. The Prince of Conde I have no recollection of.

"After this part of the procession had passed, the crowd became exceedingly oppressive, rushing down the street to keep pace with the King's carriage. As the King passed the royal family he bowed, which they returned by kissing their hands to him and shaking their handkerchiefs with great enthusiasm. After they had gone by, the royal family left the balcony, where they had been between two and three hours.

"My only object now was to get clear of the crowd. I waited nearly three quarters of an hour, and at length, by main strength, worked myself edgewise across the street, where I pushed down through stables and houses and by-lanes to get thoroughly clear, not caring where I went, as I knew I could easily find my way when I got into a street. This I at last gained, and, to my no small astonishment, found myself by mere chance directly opposite the hotel where Louis and his suite were.

"The Prince Regent had just left the place, and with his carriage went a great part of the mob, which left the space before the house comparatively clear. It soon filled again; I took advantage, however, and got directly before the windows of the hotel, as I expected the King would show himself, for the people were calling for him very clamorously.

"I was not disappointed, for, in less than half a minute he came to the window, which was open, before which I was. I was so near him I could have touched him. He stayed nearly ten minutes, during which time I observed him carefully. He is very corpulent, a round face, dark eyes, prominent features; the character of countenance much like the portraits of the other Louises; a pleasant face, but, above all, such an expression of the moment as, I shall never forget, and in vain attempt to describe.

"His eyes were suffused with tears, his mouth slightly open with an unaffected smile full of gratitude, and seemed to say to every one, 'Bless you.' His hands were a little extended sometimes as if in adoration to heaven, at others as if blessing the people. I entered into his feelings. I saw a monarch who, for five-and-twenty years, had been an exile from his country, deprived of his throne, and, until within a few months, not a shadow of a hope remaining of ever returning to it again. I saw him raised, as if by magic, from a private station in an instant to his throne, to reign over a nation which has made itself the most conspicuous of any nation on the globe. I tried to think as he did, and, in the heat of my enthusiasm, I joined with heart and soul in the cries of 'Vive le roi!' 'Vive Louis!' which rent the air from the mouths of thousands. As soon as he left the window, I returned home much fatigued, but well satisfied that my labor had not been for naught....

"Mr. Wilberforce is an excellent man; his whole soul is bent on doing good to his fellow men. Not a moment of his time is lost. He is always planning some benevolent scheme or other, and not only planning but executing; he is made up altogether of affectionate feeling. What I saw of him in private gave me the most exalted opinion of him as a Christian. Oh, that such men as Mr. Wilberforce were more common in this world. So much human blood would not then be shed to gratify the malice and revenge of a few wicked, interested men.

"I hope Cousin Samuel Breese will distinguish himself under so gallant a commander as Captain Perry. I shall look with anxiety for the sailing of the Guerriere. There will be plenty of opportunity for him, for peace with us is deprecated by the people here, and it only remains for us to fight it out gallantly, as we are able to do, or submit slavishly to any terms which they please to offer us. A number of humane schemes are under contemplation, such as burning New London for the sake of the frigates there; arming the blacks in the Southern States; burning all of our principal cities, and such like plans, which, from the supineness of the New England people, may be easily carried into effect. But no, the humane, generous English cannot do such base things—I hope not; let the event show it. It is perhaps well I am here, for, with my present opinions, if I were at home, I should most certainly be in the army or navy. My mite is small, but, when my country's honor demands it, it might help to sustain it.

"There can now be no French party. I wish very much to know what effect this series of good news will have at home. I congratulate you as well as all other good people on the providential events which have lately happened; they must produce great changes with us; I hope it will be for the best.

"I am in excellent health, and am painting away; I am making studies for the large picture I contemplate for next year. It will be as large, I think, as Mr. Allston's famous one, which was ten feet by fourteen."

It can hardly be wondered at that the parents should have been somewhat anxious, when we learn from letters of June, 1814, that they had not heard from their son for seven months. They were greatly relieved when letters did finally arrive, and they rejoiced in his success and in the hope of a universal peace, which should enable their sons "to act their part on the stage of life in a calmer period of the world."

His mother keeps urging him to send some of his paintings home, as they wish to judge of his improvement, having, as yet, received nothing but the small pen-and-ink portrait of himself, which they do not think a very good likeness. She also emphatically discourages any idea of patronage from America, owing to the hard times brought on by the war, and the father tells his son that he will endeavor to send him one thousand dollars more, which must suffice for the additional year's study and the expenses of the journey home.

It is small wonder that the three sons always manifested the deepest veneration and affection for their parents, for seldom has there been seen as great devotion and self-sacrifice, and seldom were three sons more worthy of it. Sidney was at this time studying law at Litchfield, Connecticut, and Richard was attending the Theological Seminary at Andover, Massachusetts. Both became eminent in after life, though, curiously enough, neither in the law nor in the ministry. But we shall have occasion to treat more specifically of this later on. The three brothers were devotedly attached to each other to the very end of their long lives, and were mutually helpful as their lives now diverged and now came together again.

The next letter from Morse to his parents, written on June 15, 1814, gives a further account of the great people who were at that time in London:—

"I expected at this time to have been in Bristol with Mr. and Mrs. Allston, who are now there, but the great fetes in honor of the peace, and the visit of the allied sovereigns, have kept me in London till all is over. There are now in London upward of twenty foreign princes; also the great Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia. A week ago yesterday they arrived in town, and, contrary to expectation, came in a very private manner. I went to see their entree, but was disappointed with the rest of the people, for the Emperor Alexander, disliking all show and parade, came in a private carriage and took an indirect route here.

"The next and following day I spent in endeavoring to get a sight of them. I have been very fortunate, having seen the Emperor Alexander no less than fourteen times, so that I am quite familiar with his face; the King of Prussia I have seen once; Marshal Bluecher, five or six times; Count Platoff, three or four times; besides Generals de Yorck, Buelow, etc., all whose names must be perfectly familiar to you, and the distinguished parts they have all acted in the great scenes just past.

"The Emperor Alexander I am quite in love with; he has every mark of a great mind. His countenance is an uncommonly fine one; he has a fair complexion, hair rather light, and a stout, well-made figure; he has a very cheerful, benevolent expression, and his conduct has everywhere evinced that his face is the index of his mind. When I first saw him he was dressed in a green uniform with two epaulets and stars of different orders; he was conversing at the window of his hotel with his sister, the Duchess of Oldenburg. I saw him again soon after in the superb coach of the Prince Regent, with the Duchess, his sister, going to the court of the Queen. In a few hours after I saw him again on the balcony of the Pultney Hotel; he came forward and bowed to the people. He was then dressed in a red uniform, with a broad blue sash over the right shoulder; he appeared to great advantage; he stayed about five minutes. I saw him again five or six times through the day, but got only indifferent views of him. The following day, however, I was determined to get a better and nearer view of him than before. I went down to his hotel about ten o'clock, the time when I supposed he would leave it; I saw one of the Prince's carriages drawn up, which opened at the top and was thrown back before and behind. In a few minutes the Emperor with his sister made their appearance and got into it. As the carriage started, I pressed forward and got hold of the ring of the coach door and kept pace with it for about a quarter of a mile. I was so near that I could have touched him; he was in a plain dress, a brown coat, and altogether like any other gentleman. His sister, the Duchess, also was dressed in a very plain, unattractive manner, and, if it had not been for the crowd which followed, they would have been taken for any lady and gentleman taking an airing.

"In this unostentatious manner does he conduct himself, despising all pomp, and seems rather more intent upon inspecting the charitable, useful, and ornamental establishments of this country, with a view, probably, of benefiting his own dominions by his observations, than of displaying his rank by the splendor of dress and equipage.

"His condescension also is no less remarkable. An instance or two will exemplify it. On the morning after his arrival he was up at six o'clock, and, while the lazy inhabitants of this great city were fast asleep in their beds, he was walking with his sister, the Duchess, in Kensington Gardens. As he came across Hyde Park he observed a corporal drilling some recruits, upon which he went up to him and entered into familiar conversation with him, asking him a variety of questions, and, when he had seen the end of the exercise, shook him heartily by the hand and left him. When he was riding on horseback, he shook hands with all who came round him.

"A few days ago, as he was coming out of the gate of the London Docks on foot, after having inspected them, a great crowd was waiting to see him, among whom was an old woman of about seventy years of age, who seemed very anxious to get near him, but, the crowd pressing very much, she exclaimed, 'Oh, if I could but touch his clothes!' The Emperor overheard her, and, turning round, advanced to her, and, pulling off his glove, gave her his hand, and, at the same time dropping a guinea into hers, said to her, 'Perhaps this will do as well.' The old woman was quite overcome, and cried, 'God bless Your Majesty,' till he was out of sight.

"An old woman in her ninetieth year sent a pair of warm woolen stockings to the Emperor, and with them a letter stating that she had knit them with her own hands expressly for him, and, as she could not afford to send him silk, she thought that woolen would be much more acceptable, and would also be more useful in his climate. The Emperor was very much pleased, and determined on giving her his miniature set in gold and diamonds, but, upon learning that her situation in life was such that money would be more acceptable, he wrote her an answer, and, thanking her heartily for her present, enclosed her one hundred pounds.

"These anecdotes speak more than volumes in praise of the Emperor Alexander. He is truly a great man. He is a great conqueror, for he has subdued the greatest country in the world, and overthrown the most alarming despotism that ever threatened mankind. He is great also because he is good; his whole time seems spent in distributing good to all around him; and where-ever he goes he makes every heart rejoice. He is very active and is all the time on the alert in viewing everything that is worth seeing. The Emperor is also extremely partial to the United States; everything American pleases him, and he seems uncommonly interested in the welfare of our country.

"I was introduced to-day to Mr. Harris, our charge d'affaires to the court of Russia. He is a very intelligent, fine man, and is a great favorite with Alexander. From a conversation with him I have a scheme in view which, when I have matured, I will submit to you for your approbation.

"The King of Prussia I have seen but once, and then had but an imperfect view of him. He came to the window with the Prince Regent and bowed to the people (at St. James's Palace). He is tall and thin, has an agreeable countenance, but rather dejected in consequence of the late loss of his queen, to whom he was very much attached.

"General Bluecher, now Prince Bluecher, I have seen five or six times. I saw him on his entrance into London, all covered with dust, and in a very ordinary kind of vehicle. On the day after I saw him several times in his carriage, drawn about wherever he wished by the mob. He is John's greatest favorite, and they have almost pulled the brave general and his companion, Count Platoff, to pieces out of pure affection. Platoff had his coat actually torn off him and divided into a thousand pieces as relics by the good people—their kindness knows no bounds, and, I think, in all the battles which they have fought, they never have run so much risk of losing their limbs as in encountering their friends in England.

"Bluecher is a veteran-looking soldier, a very fine head, monstrous mustaches. His head is bald, like papa's, his hair gray, and he wears powder. Understanding that he was to be at Covent Garden Theatre, I went, as the best place to see him, and I was not disappointed. He was in the Prince's box, and I had a good view of him during the whole entertainment, being directly before him for three or four hours. A few nights since I also went to the theatre to see Platoff, the hetman (chief) of the Cossacks. He has also a very fine countenance, a high and broad forehead, dark complexion, and dark hair. He is tall and well-made, as I think the Cossacks are generally. He was very much applauded by a crowded house, the most part collected to see him."

The following letter is from Washington Allston written in Bristol, on July 5, 1814:—

MY DEAR SIR,—I received your last on Saturday and should have answered your first letter but for two reasons.

First, that I had nothing to say; which, I think, metaphysicians allow to be the most natural as well as the most powerful cause of silence.

Second, that, if I had had anything to say, the daily expectation which I entertained of seeing you allowed no confidence in the hope that you would hear what I had to say should I have said it.

I thank you for your solicitude, and can assure you that both Mrs. Allston and myself are in every respect better than when we left London. Mr. King received me, as I wished, with undiminished kindness, and was greatly pleased with the pictures. He has not, however, seen the large one, which, to my agreeable surprise, I have been solicited from various quarters to exhibit, and that, too, without my having given the least intimation of such a design. I have taken Merchant Tailors' Hall (a very large room) for this purpose, and shall probably open it in the course of next week.

Perhaps you will be surprised to hear that I have been retouching it. I have just concluded a fortnight's hard work upon it, and have the satisfaction to add that I have been seldom better satisfied than with my present labor. I have repainted the greater part of the draperies— indeed, those of all the principal figures, excepting the Dead Man—with powerful and positive colors, and added double strength to the shadows of every figure, so that for force and distinctness you would hardly know it for the same picture. The "Morning Chronicle" would have no reason now to complain of its "wan red."...

I am sorry that Parliament has been so impolite to you in procrastinating the fireworks. But they are an unpolished set and will still be in the dark age of incivility notwithstanding their late illuminations. However I am in great hopes that the good people of England will derive no small degree of moral embellishment from their pure admiration of the illustrious General B——, who, it is said, for drinking and gaming has no equal.

BRISTOL, September 9, 1814.

MY DEAR PARENTS,—Your kind letters of June last I have received, and return you a thousand thanks for them. They have relieved me from a painful state of anxiety with respect to my future prospects. I cannot feel too thankful for such kind parents who have universally shown so much indulgence to me. Accept my gratitude and love; they are all I can give.

You allow me to stay in Europe another year. Your letters are not in answer to some I have subsequently sent requesting leave to reside in Paris. Mr. Allston, as well as all my friends, think it by all means necessary I should lose no time in getting to France to improve myself for a year in drawing (a branch of art in which I am very deficient).

I shall therefore set out for Paris in about two weeks, unless your letters in answer to those sent by Drs. Heyward and Gushing should arrive and say otherwise. Since coming to Bristol I have not found my prospects so good as I before had reason to expect (owing in a great degree to political irritation). I have, however, contrived to make sufficient to pay off all my debts, which have given me some considerable uneasiness.

I can live much more reasonably in Paris (indeed, some say for half what I can in London); I can improve myself more; and, therefore, all things taken into consideration, I believe it would be agreeable to my parents. As to the political state of Paris, there is nothing to fear from that. It appears perfectly tranquil, and should at any time any difficulties arise, it is but three days' journey back to England again. Besides this, I hope my parents will not feel any solicitude for me lest I should fall into any bad way, when they consider that I am now between twenty-three and twenty-four years of age, and that this is an age when the habits are generally fixed.

As for expense, I must also request your confidence. Feeling as I do the great obligations I am under to my parents, they must think me destitute of gratitude if they thought me capable, after all that has been said to me, of being prodigal. The past I trust you will find to be an example for the future.

In a letter from a friend, M. Van Schaick, written from Dartmouth, October 13, 1814, after speaking in detail of the fortifications of New York Harbor, which he considers "impregnable," we find the following interesting information:—

"But what satisfies my mind more than anything else is that all the heights of Brooklyn on Long Island are occupied by strong chains of forts; the Captain calls it an iron-work; and that the steamboat frigate, carrying forty-four 32-pounders, must by this time be finished. Her sides are eight feet thick of solid timber. No ball can penetrate her.... The steamboat frigate is 160 feet long, 40 wide, carries her wheels in the centre like the ferry-boats, and will move six miles an hour against a common wind and tide. She is the wonder and admiration of all beholders."

From this same gentleman is the following letter, dated October 21, 1814:—

MY DEAR FRIEND,—My heart is so full that I do not know how to utter its emotions. Thanks, all thanks to Heaven and our glorious heroes! My satisfaction is full; it is perfect. It partakes of the character of the victory and wants nothing to make it complete.

I return your felicitations upon this happy and heart-cheering occasion, and hope it may serve to suppress every sigh and to enliven every hope that animates the bosoms of my friends at Bristol. Give Mr. Allston a hearty squeeze of the hand for me in token of my gratification at this event and my remembrance of him.

I enter into your feelings; I enjoy your triumph as much as if I was with you. May it do you good and lengthen your lives. Really I think it is much more worth my regard to live now than ever it was before. This gives a tone to one's nerves, a zest to one's appetite, and a reality to existence that pervades all nature and exhibits its effects in every word and action.

Among the heroes whose names shall be inscribed upon the broad base of American Independence and Glory, the names of the heroes of Lake Erie and Lake Champlain will be recognized as brilliant and every way worthy; and it will hereafter be said that the example and exertions of New York have saved the nation.... What becomes of Massachusetts now and its sage politicians? Oh! shut the picture; I cannot bear the contrast. Like a dead carcass she hangs upon the living spirit which animates the heart, and she impedes its motions. Her consequence is gone, and I am sorry for it, because I have been accustomed to admire the noble spirit she once displayed, and the virtues which adorned her brighter days....

We sail on Sunday or Monday. I have received the box. Everything is right. Heaven bless you.

Going back a few days in point of time, the following letter was written to his parents:—

BRISTOL, October 11, 1814.

Your letters to the 31st of August have been received, and I have again to express to you my thanks for the sacrifices you are making for me. One day I hope it will be in my power to repay you for the many acts of indulgence to me....

Your last letters mention nothing about my going to France. I perceive you have got my letters requesting leave, but you are altogether silent on the subject. Everything is in favor of my going, my improvement, my expenses, and, last though not least, the state of my feelings. I shall be ruined in my feelings if I stay longer in England. I cannot endure the continued and daily insults to my feelings as an American. But on this head I promised not to write anything more; still allow me to say but a few words—On second thoughts, however, I will refer you entirely to Dr. Romeyn. If it is possible, as you value my comfort, see him as speedily as possible. He will give you my sentiments exactly, and I fully trust that, after you have heard him converse for a short time, you will completely liberate me from the imputation of error....

Mr. Bromfield [the merchant through whom he received his allowance] thinks I had better wait until I receive positive leave from you to go to France. Do write me soon and do give me leave. I long to bury myself in the Louvre in a country at least not hostile to mine, and where guns are not firing and bells ringing for victory over my countrymen.... Where is American patriotism,—how long shall England, already too proud, glory in the blood of my countrymen? Oh! for the genius of Washington! Had I but his talents with what alacrity would I return to the relief of that country which (without affectation, my dear parents) is dearer to me than my life. Willingly (I speak with truth and deliberation), willingly would I sacrifice my life for her honor.

Do not think ill of me for speaking thus strongly. You cannot judge impartially of my feelings until you are placed in my situation. Do not say I suffer myself to be carried away by my feelings; your feelings could never have been tried as mine have; you cannot see with the eyes I do; you cannot have the means of ascertaining facts on this side of the water that I have. But I will leave this subject and only say see Dr. Romeyn....

I find no encouragement whatever in Bristol in the way of my art. National feeling is mingled with everything here; it is sufficient that I am an American, a title I would not change with the greatest king in Europe.

I find it more reasonable, living in Bristol, or I should go to London immediately. Mr. and Mrs. Allston are well and send you their respects. They set out for London in a few days after some months' unsuccessful (between ourselves) residence here. All public feeling is absorbed in one object, the conquest of the United States; no time to encourage an artist, especially an American artist.

I am well, extremely well, but not in good spirits, as you may imagine from this letter. I am painting a little landscape and am studying in my mind a great historical picture, to be painted, by your leave, in Paris.



CHAPTER VIII

NOVEMBER 9, 1814—APRIL 23. 1815

Does not go to Paris.—Letter of admonition from his mother.—His parents' early economies.—Letter from Leslie.—Letter from Rev. S.F. Jarvis on politics.—The mother tells of the economies of another young American, Dr. Parkman.—The son resents constant exhortations to economize, and tells of meanness of Dr. Parkman.—Writes of his own economies and industry.—Disgusted with Bristol.—Prophesies peace between England and America.—Estimates of Morse's character by Dr. Romeyn and Mr. Van Schaick.—The father regrets reproof of son for political views.—Death of Mrs. Allston.—Disagreeable experience in Bristol.—More economies.—Napoleon I.—Peace.

Morse did not go to Paris at this time. The permission from his parents was so long delayed, owing to their not having received certain letters of his, and his mentor, Mr. Bromfield, advising against it, he gave up the plan, with what philosophy he could bring to bear on the situation.

His mother continued to give him careful advice, covering many pages, in every letter. On November 9, 1814, she says:—

"We wish to know what the plan was that you said you were maturing in regard to the Emperor of Russia. You must not be a schemer, but determine on a steady, uniform course. It is an old adage that 'a rolling stone never gathers any moss'; so a person that is driving about from pillar to post very seldom lays up anything against a rainy day. You must be wise, my son, and endeavor to get into such steady business as will, with the divine blessing, give you a support. Secure that first, and then you will be authorized to indulge your taste and exercise your genius in other ways that may not be immediately connected with a living.

"You mention patronage from this country, but such a thing is not known here unless you were on the spot, and not then, indeed, but for value received. You must therefore make up your mind to labor for yourself without leaning on any one, and look up to God for his blessing upon your endeavors. This is the way your parents set out in life about twenty-five years ago. They had nothing to look to for a support but their salary, which was a house, twenty cords of wood, and $570 a year. The reception and circulation of the Geography was an experiment not then made. With the blessing of Heaven on these resources we have maintained an expensive family, kept open doors for almost all who chose to come and partake of our hospitality. Enemies, as well as friends, have been welcomed. We have given you and your brothers a liberal education, have allowed you $4000, are allowing your brothers about $300 a year apiece, and are supporting our remaining family at the rate of $2000 a year. This is a pretty correct statement, and I make it to show you what can be done by industry and economy, with the blessing of Heaven."

While Morse was in Bristol, his friend C. R. Leslie thus writes to him in lead pencil from London, on November 29, 1814:—

MOST POTENT, GRAVE AND REVEREND DOCTOR,—I take up my pencil to make ten thousand apologies for addressing you in humble black lead. Deeply impressed as I am with the full conviction that you deserve the very best Japan ink, the only excuse I can make to you is the following. It is, perhaps, needless to remind you that the tools with which ink is applied to paper, in order to produce writing, are made from goose quills, which quills I am goose enough not to keep a supply of; and not having so much money at present in my breeches pocket as will purchase one, I am forced to betake myself to my pencil; an instrument which, without paying myself any compliment, I am sure I can wield better than a pen.

I am glad to hear that you are so industrious, and that Mr. Allston is succeeding so well with portraits. I hope he will bring all he has painted to London. I am looking out for you every day. I think we form a kind of family here, and I feel in an absence from Mr. and Mrs. Allston and yourself as I used to do when away from my mother and sisters.

By the bye, I have not had any letters from home for more than a month. It seems the Americans are all united and we shall now have war in earnest. I am glad of it for many reasons; I think it will not only get us a more speedy and permanent peace, but may tend to crush the demon of party spirit and strengthen our government.

I am done painting the gallery, and have finished my drawings for the frieze. Thank you for your good wishes.

I thought Mr. Allston knew how proud I am of being considered his student. Tell him, if he thinks it worth while to mention me at all in his letter to Delaplaine, I shall consider it a great honor to be called his student.

The father, in a letter of December 6, 1814, after again urging him to leave politics alone, adds this postscript:

"P.S. If you can make up your mind to remain in London and finish your great picture for the exhibition; to suppress your political feelings, and resolutely turn a deaf ear to everything which does not concern your professional studies; not to talk on politics and preserve a conciliating course of conduct and conversation; make as many friends as you can, and behave as a good man ought to in your situation, and put off going to France till after your exhibition,—this plan would suit us best. But with the observations and advice now before you, we leave you to judge for yourself. Let us early know your determination and intended plans. You must rely on your own resources after this year."

The following letter is from his warm friend, the Reverend Samuel F. Jarvis, written in New York, December 14, 1814:—

"I am not surprised at the feelings you express with regard to England or America. The English in general have so contemptuous an opinion of us and one so exalted of themselves, that every American must feel a virtuous indignation when he hears his country traduced and belied. But, my dear sir, it is natural, on the other hand, for an exile from his native land to turn with fond remembrance to its excellences and forget its defects. You will be able some years hence to speak with more impartiality on this subject than you do at present.

"The men who have involved the country in this war are wicked and corrupt. A systematic exclusion of all Federalists from any office of trust is the leading feature of this Administration, yet the Federalists comprehend the majority of the wealth, virtue, and intelligence of the community. It is the power of the ignorant multitude by which they are supported, and I conceive that America will never be a respectable nation in the eyes of the world, till the extreme democracy of our Constitution is done away with, and there is a representation of the property rather than of the population of the country. You feel nothing of the oppressive, despotic sway of the soi-disant Republicans, but we feel it in all its bitterness, and know that it is far worse than that of the most despotic sovereigns in Europe. With such men there can be no union.

"The repulsion of British invasion is the duty, and will be the pride, of every American; but, while prepared to bare his arm in defence of his much-wronged country against a proud and arrogant, and, in some instances, a cruel, foe, he cannot be blind to the unprincipled conduct of her internal enemies, and such he must conceive the present ruling party to be."

On December 19, 1814, his mother writes:—

"I was not a little astonished to hear you say, in one of your letters from Bristol, that you had earned money enough there to pay off your debts. I cannot help asking what debts you could have to discharge with your own earnings after receiving one thousand dollars a year from us, which we are very sure must have afforded you, even by your own account of your expenses, ample means for the payment of all just, fair, and honorable debts, and I hope you contract no others. We are informed by others that they made six hundred dollars a year not only pay all their expenses of clothing, board, travelling, learning the French language, etc., etc., but they were able out of it to purchase books to send home, and actually sent a large trunk full of elegant books. Now the person who told us that he did this has a father who is said to be worth a hundred and fifty thousand dollars; therefore the young man was not pinched for means, but was thus economical out of consideration to his parents, and to show his gratitude to them, as I suppose. Now think, my dear son, how much more your poor parents are doing for you, how good your dear brothers are to be satisfied with so little done for them in comparison with what we are doing for you, and let the thought stimulate you to more economy and industry. I greatly fear you have been falling off in both these since the eclat you received for your first performances. It has always been a failing of yours, as soon as you found you could excel in what you undertook, to be tired of it and not trouble yourself any further about it. I was in hopes that you had got over this fickleness ere this...