And the castle still has about it the charm of the poet's
invocation: -
"Search Windsor Castle, elves, within, without,
Strew good luck, ouphes, on every sacred room,
That it may stand till the perpetual doom
In state as wholesome as in state 'tis fit,
Worthy the owner, and the owner it.
The several chairs of order, look you, scour
With juice of balm and every precious flower,
Each fair instalment, coat, and several crest,
With loyal blazon evermore be blest.
And nightly, meadow fairies, look you, sing
Like to the garter's compass, in a ring.
The expressure that it bears, green let it be,
More fertile, fresh, than all the field to see,
And Honi soit qui mal y pense, write
In emerald tufts, flowers, purple, blue, and white,
Like sapphire, pearl, and rich embroidery,
Fairies use flowers for their charactery."
As if for the loyal purpose of recommending old Windsor, the English
skies had cleared up into brightness. About nine o'clock we found
ourselves in the cars, riding through a perpetual garden of blooming
trees and blossoming hedges; birds in a perfect fury of delight. Our
spirits were all elated. Good, honest, cackling Mrs. Quickly herself
was not more disposed to make the best of every thing and every body
than were we. Mr. S., in particular, was so joyous that I was afraid
he would break out into song, after the fashion of Sir Hugh Evans, -
"Melodious birds sung madrigals:
Whenas I sat in Babylon," &c.
By the by, the fishing ground of Izaak Walton is one of the localities
connected with Windsor.
The ride was done all too soon. One should not whirl through such a
choice bit of England in the cars; one should rather wish to amble
over the way after a sleepy, contemplative old horse, as we used to
make rural excursions in New England ere yet railroads were. However,
all that's bright must fade, and this among the rest.
About eleven o'clock we found ourselves going up the old stone steps
to the castle. It was the last day of a fair which had been holden in
this part of the country, and crowds of the common people were
flocking to the castle, men, women, and children pattering up the
stairs before and after us.
We went first through the state apartments. The principal thing that
interested me was the ball room, which was a perfect gallery of
Vandyke's paintings. Here was certainly an opportunity to know what
Vandyke is. I should call him a true court painter - a master of
splendid conventionalities, whose portraits of kings are the most
powerful arguments for the divine right I know of. Nevertheless,
beyond conventionality and outward magnificence, his ideas have no
range. He suggests nothing to the moral and ideal part of us. Here
again was the picture of King Charles on horseback, which had
interested me at Warwick. It had, however, a peculiar and romantic
charm from its position at the end of that long, dim corridor,
vis-a-vis with the masque of Cromwell, which did not accompany it
here, where it was but one among a set of pictures.
There was another, presenting the front side and three quarters face
of the same sovereign, painted by Vandyke for Benini to make a bust
from. There were no less than five portraits of his wife, Henrietta
Maria, in different dresses and attitudes, and two pictures of their
children. No sovereign is so profusely and perseveringly represented.
The queen's audience chamber is hung with tapestry representing scenes
from the book of Esther. This tapestry made a very great impression
upon me. A knowledge of the difficulties to be overcome in the
material part of painting is undoubtedly an unsuspected element of
much of the pleasure we derive from it; and for this reason, probably,
this tapestry appeared to us better than paintings executed with equal
spirit in oils. We admired it exceedingly, entirely careless what
critics might think of us if they knew it.
Another room was hung with Gobelin tapestry representing the whole of
the tragedy of Medea. First you have Jason cutting down the golden
fleece, while the dragon lies slain, and Medea is looking on in
admiration. In another he pledges his love to Medea. In a third, the
men sprung from the dragon's teeth are seen contending with each
other. In another the unfaithful lover espouses Creusa. In the next
Creusa is seen burning in the poisoned shirt, given her by Medea. In
another Medea is seen in a car drawn by dragons, bearing her two
children by Jason, whom she has stabbed in revenge for his desertion.
Nothing can exceed the ghastly reality of death, as shown in the
stiffened limbs and sharpened features of those dead children. The
whole drawing and grouping is exceedingly spirited and lifelike, and
has great power of impression.
I was charmed also by nine landscapes of Zuccarelli, which adorn the
state drawing room. Zuccarelli was a follower of Claude, and these
pictures far exceed in effect any of Claude's I have yet seen. The
charm of them does not lie merely in the atmospheric tints and
effects, as those of Cuyp, but in the rich and fanciful combination of
objects. In this respect they perform in painting what the first part
of the Castle of Indolence, or Tennyson's Lotus Eaters, do in poetry -
evoke a fairyland. There was something peculiar about their charm for
me.
Who can decide how much in a picture belongs to the idiosyncrasies and
associations of the person who looks upon it. Artists undoubtedly
powerful and fine may have nothing in them which touches the nervous
sympathies and tastes of some persons:
