del. Etched by Rowlandson. Published by R. Ackermann, 101 Strand.--The
bedchamber of a couple who seem to disagree. The clock points to 'five
o'clock in the morning,' and the husband, night-cap on head, and his
face bearing an expression of injured martyrdom, has clasped his hands
in despair of obtaining rest from the energetic denunciations of his
wife, who, leaning over him in a commanding attitude, is pouring forth
her 'Caudle-like' remonstrances over the prostrate sufferer: 'Yes, you
base man, you; don't you eat, drink, and sleep comfortably at home? and
still you must be jaunting abroad every night. I'll find out all your
intrigues, you may depend on it.'
1800 (?). _Preparation for the Academy, Old Joseph Nollekens and
his Venus._--John Thomas Smith, many years Keeper of the prints and
drawings in the British Museum, and better known by his works on
metropolitan antiquities, to which he furnished etchings, as well as
archæological researches, has left us one of the chattiest and most
eccentric biographies to be found in the annals of literature--the
_Life of the Sculptor Nollekens_, whose pupil he was. Much as we are
indebted to 'Antiquity Smith' for the whimsical anecdotes he has
imported into his unequivocally entertaining pair of volumes, which
touch freely upon contemporary men and things under their most familiar
and every-day aspect, we cannot fail to feel a passing regret that
the versatile keeper has forgotten to make any anecdotal mention of
his friend Rowlandson, with whom he was on terms of cordiality. The
caricaturist had presented, at times, some of his most interesting
drawings to 'his old friend John Thomas Smith,' as he has taken care
to inscribe on the margins, with his autograph; the best of these
is possibly, _Drawing from the Life-School at the Royal Academy_--a
subject upon which both the humourists were well informed, since they
had worked there as students, and were more or less acquainted with
all the artists of the day, and, moreover, it being impossible to
overlook such points, with their keen sense of the eccentric; they had
noted--the one with his pencil, and the other with his pen--all the
striking peculiarities, personal or professional, of their numerous
associates. The latest portrait the present writer has seen of our
artist is one drawn with a pen in outline and tinted with Indian ink
by the worthy keeper, one day when the caricaturist was visiting the
Print Room of the British Museum, Rowlandson being, at that time, well
advanced in years. The sketch is that of a large and decisive-looking
elderly gentleman, with a bald head, firmly-cut features, and wearing
big old-fashioned spectacles; this portrait was taken while the subject
was stooping to examine a drawing. Beneath it John Thomas Smith has
inscribed the particulars under which he came to draw the portrait of
'his old friend.'
The grave omission with which we have to charge Nollekens' biographer,
usually so amazingly fertile in individualistic traits of everyone he
knew--and he seems to have been fairly acquainted with, or to have
something amusing to impart about, nearly everybody of any note--in
respect to the caricaturist, of whom his writings make no sort of
mention, is the more to be regretted, since it was probably a sly hint
imparted by 'Antiquity Smith' which produced the picture of the gifted
old miser at work on one of his cherished subjects--a whimsical study,
doubtless founded on a special visit of observation, instituted, with
Nollekens' old pupil, for the very purpose. As regards the sculptor's
portrait, which is seemingly caricatured, John Thomas Smith comes in
as aptly with his description[1] as if the two sittings had taken
place simultaneously, and the biographer and artist had worked _en
collaboration_:--'His figure was short, his head big, and it appeared
much increased by a large-crowned hat, of which he was very fond. His
neck was short, his shoulders narrow, his body too large, particularly
in the front lower part; he was bow-legged and hook-nosed; indeed,
his leg was somewhat like his nose, which resembled the rudder of an
Antwerp packet-boat; his lips were rather thin, but between his brows
there was great evidence of study.'
[Illustration: PREPARATIONS FOR THE ACADEMY. OLD JOSEPH NOLLEKENS AND
HIS VENUS.]
As to 'his Venuses' Mrs. Nollekens invariably continued to express
the most derogatory opinions, since she regarded his fair models
as 'abandoned huzzies, with whom she had no patience,' regarding
her eccentric spouse as quite on their level, for she cherished the
extraordinary conviction that after his marriage he ought to have
'dispensed with such people.' While Mrs. Nollekens was unduly mindful
of her husband's favourite models, it seems these ladies, under altered
circumstances, occasionally amused themselves by reminding the sculptor
of their former acquaintance, on which pleasant fact his biographer
does not fail to enlarge, in more than one instance:--
'Our sculptor would sometimes amuse himself, on a summer's evening,
by standing with his arms behind him at the yard-gate, which opened
into Titchfield Street. During one of these indulgences, as a lady was
passing, most elegantly dressed, attended by a strapping footman in
silver-laced livery, with a tall gilt-headed cane, she nodded to him,
and, smiling, asked him if he did not know her. On his reply that he
did not recollect her, "What, sir!" exclaimed she, "do you forget Miss
Coleman, who brought a letter to you from Charles Townley, to compare
limbs with your Venus? Why, I have been with you twenty times in that
little room, to stand for your Venus." "Oh! _lawk-a-daisy_, so you
have!" answered Nollekens. "Why, what a fine woman you're grown! Come,
walk in, and I'll show you your figure--I have done it in marble."
After desiring the man to stop at the gate she went in with him; and
upon seeing Mrs. Nollekens at the parlour-window, who was pretending
to talk to and feed her sister's bullfinch, but who had been informed
by the vigilant Bronze (the eccentric maid-servant of this odd pair)
of what had been going on at the gate, she went up to her and said,
"Madam, I have to thank----." Mrs. Nollekens then elevated herself on
her toes, and, with a lisping palpitation, began to address the lady.
"Oh, dear," observed Miss Coleman, "and you don't know me! You have
given me many a basin of broth in the depth of winter, when I used
to stand for Venus." Mrs. Nollekens, not knowing what to think of
Joseph, shook her head at him as she slammed the window, at the same
time exclaiming, "Oh, fie! Mr. Nollekens! Fie! fie!" Bronze assured me
that when her master went into the front parlour he had a pretty warm
reception. "What!" said her mistress, "to know such wretches after you
have done with them in your studio!"'
In Rowlandson's picture the sculptor is actually at work on a Venus and
Cupid; one of his most successful models.[2]