Title: The life and works of Sir Charles Barry
Author: Alfred Barry
Release date: September 16, 2023 [eBook #71663]
Language: English
Original publication: London: John Murray, 1867
Credits: Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)
CONTENTS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FOOTNOTES
By REV. ALFRED BARRY, D.D.,
PRINCIPAL OF CHELTENHAM COLLEGE.
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1867.
The right of Translation is reserved
LONDON: PRINTED BY W. CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET,
AND CHARING CROSS.
The objects which I have had in view in the following pages, and the spirit in which I have endeavoured to pursue them, are referred to in the opening paragraphs of the first chapter. It remains to say a few words on the nature of the materials at my command, and the authorities on which my statements of fact and opinion are based.
For all narrative purposes, I have found an abundance of excellent and trustworthy materials. My father’s architectural life is written in outline in his own professional journals, and, in its more important periods, has left its memorials in public and official documents of unquestionable authority. Some of these I have quoted in the Appendix; in other cases I have given summaries of their contents, and references to the original documents. In all cases I may venture to profess, that I have taken the greatest pains to ascertain clearly the facts which I have here recorded. When I could not consult official documents, I have depended only on personal recollection and the testimony of eye-witnesses. Of any errors, which may still have crept in, I shall thankfully receive correction.
I could indeed have wished to present to my readers more original letters and extracts from Journals. These form the most valuable part of many biographies; for, independently of any intrinsic excellence of their own, they are full of interest, as bearing the marked impress of personal character, and enabling the subject of the biography to speak for himself. But here my materials fail me. My father was no great letter-writer. His pen was indeed constantly busy in valuable professional notes and official reports, clear in style and comprehensive in scope, of which specimens are given in the Appendix. But I find few characteristic letters, embodying his personal opinions and feelings; and he does not appear to have preserved, except in a few cases, the numerous letters from eminent persons, which he must have received. I have had therefore to rely on personal recollection to supply the deficiency, and to endeavour in the last chapter to describe his private life and character, as it appeared to those who knew him and loved him best. Nor are his Journals altogether fit for reproduction. They are indeed invaluable as authorities. During his foreign tours they were copious and detailed, and almost the whole of Chapter II. is drawn from them. But they were mostly notes for practical use, and, before they could be published, they would need alterations and developments, which he alone had the right to give them. During his professional life they contained simply brief memoranda of every day’s work. I could not therefore quote them with advantage, but I have found them of the greatest value in ascertaining facts and fixing dates, which otherwise might have escaped me.
For all professional information and opinion,—for all, in fact, which may give any value to the work,—I have been able to refer to my brothers, in regard to the later part of my father’s career, with every fact of which they were intimately acquainted. For the earlier portion I have depended mainly on J. L. Wolfe, Esq., who was to my father the true friend of a lifetime, almost the only person who knew well his opinions and principles, and to whose aid and criticism he was materially indebted. He has given me notes and information, which I have found invaluable, especially in regard of the story of the New Palace at Westminster, which must be the central feature of the biography. For all the letterpress, however, I hold myself responsible. The choice of the illustrations is due to my eldest brother. We have to acknowledge with thanks the permission given us to use in some cases illustrations which have already appeared. Believing that an architectural record must speak mainly to the eye, we should gladly have given further illustrations; instead of some which are here found, we should have wished to represent more of the unexecuted designs, had authentic drawings been at hand; but we conceive that those actually given, especially the large illustrations of the Westminster Improvements, will be of great interest, both to the profession and to the public.
With these materials at command, and with these authorities to refer to, I have tried to tell my story, without tincturing the record with undue partiality, or introducing into it those merely private details, either of fact or of feeling, which appear to me to be utterly out of place in a published narrative.
I trust also, that, in speaking of controversies, and in dwelling on some parts of my father’s life, on which I cannot but feel strongly, I shall be thought to have observed due moderation of expression, and due respect for the reputation of others. In some cases I have simply stated facts, and left it to others to draw inferences and make comments upon them. It will not, I hope, be supposed that reticence in such cases implies any want of strong conviction or strong feeling on my own part. In fact, as the work has proceeded, I have felt more and more that such reticence is forced upon a son, when he is writing his father’s life, and I do not think that it need necessarily interfere with the impression which the record ought to create.
The story itself may perhaps be mainly one of professional interest. But this is a time in which Art is beginning to be recognised as an important subject to the public; and the record of a career not unimportant in regard of artistic progress, of the erection of one of the largest and most important buildings of modern times, and of designs and opinions bearing upon most public improvements now actually in contemplation, may therefore commend itself to general notice.
I have only to say in conclusion, that the inevitable difficulties in the task of preparation, the duty of wading through long official documents, and the necessity of seeking in many quarters information (which, even now, has occasionally arrived too late for use),[1] have delayed the publication of this Memoir to a period far later than that originally contemplated. I am far, however, from regretting this enforced delay. Whatever interest there may be in the record of works and opinions here given, it is not of a temporary character; and it is clear, from many indications, that even the time, which has already elapsed, has served to bring out public opinion more clearly, and has tended to the formation of a true estimate of Sir Charles Barry’s architectural genius, and of the position which his works must hold in the progress of English Art.
A. B.
Cheltenham, April, 1867.
Since this work was printed, the risk alluded to in page 195, as likely to arise from the employment of the late Mr. A. W. Pugin on the New Palace at Westminster, has been unexpectedly realized fifteen years after his death by some extraordinary claims put forward by his son. These claims, referring as they do to a question raised and settled in the life-time of those concerned, have not appeared to me to require any notice in these pages. I have therefore left the whole passage in pp. 194-198 precisely as it was originally written, without the alteration of a single word. It contains the exact account of the connexion which existed between Mr. A. W. Pugin and my father, and which, I repeat, so far as Sir Charles Barry’s knowledge and feeling were concerned, was never broken by any dispute or estrangement, from the day when Mr. Pugin (then a young man of 23) was first employed on the drawings of the New Palace, until the day of his death in 1852.
A. B.
| I. 1795-1817. EARLY LIFE AND EDUCATION. | |
|---|---|
| Object of the work—Birth of Charles Barry—His childhood, schooldays, and apprenticeship—His early efforts and amusements—His self-education and its effects on his character—His determination to travel—His matrimonial engagement | Page 1 |
| II. 1817-1820. TRAVELS IN FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, EGYPT, AND THE EAST. | |
| I. France and Italy.—General effects of travel—Study of classical architecture—Observation of natural scenery—Universality and accuracy of examination. II. Greece and Constantinople.—Growth of artistic power—Impressions of Athens and Constantinople—Contrast of the Turkish and Greek characters. III. Egypt and the East.—Great effect of Egyptian architecture upon him—Mehemet Ali’s government—Dendera, Esneh, Edfou, Philæ, Abousimbel, Thebes—Return to Cairo—Palestine—Jerash—Baalbec—Damascus—Palmyra. IV. Sicily and Italy.—Syracuse, Messina, Agrigentum, and Palermo—Return to Rome—Meeting with Mr. J. L. Wolfe—Systematic architectural study—Effects of Egyptian impressions—Italian palaces at Rome, Florence, Vicenza, and Venice—Italian churches—St. Peter’s, the Pantheon, the cathedrals at Florence and Milan—The bridge of La Santa Trinita at Florence—The growth of his architectural principles—Return to England | 15 |
| III. 1820-1829. EARLY PROFESSIONAL LIFE. | |
| Early difficulties and failures—Thought of emigration—Non-publication of his sketches—Holland House—Revival of Gothic—His Manchester churches, and their peculiarities—Marriage—Church at Oldham—Alarm at Prestwich Church—Designs for King’s College, Cambridge—Royal Institution at Manchester—Gradual relinquishment of Greek architecture—St. Peter’s Church, Brighton—Sussex County Hospital—Petworth Church—Queen’s Park, Brighton, his first Italian design—Islington churches—His relations to church architecture generally—Removal to Foley Place—Subsidiary work—Travellers’ Club—General character of his life at this period | 64 |
| IV. CHIEF ITALIAN WORKS. | |
| Plan of the Chapter. (A.) Original Buildings—Varieties of his Italian style—First manner—Reform Club—Manchester Athenæum—New wing at Trentham—Second manner—Bridgewater House—Third manner—Halifax Town Hall. (B.) Conversions and Alterations—College of Surgeons—Walton House—Highclere House—Board of Trade—Architectural gardening—Trentham Hall—Duncombe Park—Harewood House—Shrubland Park—Cliefden House—Laying out of Trafalgar Square. (C.) Designs carried out by others—Keyham Factory—Ambassador’s Palace at Constantinople—General remarks on his Italian architecture | 89 |
| V. MINOR GOTHIC WORKS. | |
| Progress of the Gothic revival—Birmingham Grammar School—First acquaintance with Mr. Pugin and Mr. Thomas—Alterations at Dulwich College—Unitarian chapel at Manchester—Additions to University College, Oxford—Hurstpierpoint Church—Canford Manor—Gawthorpe Hall—Designs for Dunrobin Castle | 128 |
| VI. THE NEW PALACE AT WESTMINSTER. | |
| Plan of the Chapter. Section I. History of the Competition—Burning of the old Houses of Parliament—Opening of the Competition for the New Building—Award of the Commissioners—Approved by the Select Committee of the Houses—Protest of the advocates of Classical Architecture—Critical controversy—Personal attacks on Mr. Barry—Meeting of unsuccessful Competitors—Presentation of Petition by Mr. Hume—Opposition quashed by Sir Robert Peel—Protest against it by Professor Donaldson and others. Section II. Progress of the Building—Difficulties as to the Foundation—Commission of Inquiry as to the Stone to be used—First Stone laid—Unavoidable delays—Committee of the Peers—Generous support of Earl of Lincoln—Committee of the Commons—Appointment of New Palace Commissioners—Appointment of Dr. Reid—Difficulties arising therefrom, and arbitration of Mr. Gwilt—The Great Clock—Competition and success of Mr. Dent—Professor Airy and Mr. E. B. Denison referees—Mr. Denison the chief Director—His tone and method of controversy—The Great Bell and its disasters—The Fine Arts Commission—The Architect’s exclusion from it—His scheme for the Decoration of the Building—The scheme of the Commissioners—Its ideal excellence and practical drawbacks—Connection with Mr. Pugin—Real nature of the aid given by him—Mr. Thomas and the stone carving—Mr. Meeson and the practical engineering—Other assistants in the work—Opening of the House of Peers—Opening and alteration of the House of Commons—The Architect knighted in 1852—The Great Tower hardly completed at his death. Section III. The Remuneration Question—Its points of public interest—General question of architectural percentage—Its bearing on the particular work—Original attempt at a bargain by Lord Bessborough—Accepted under protest—Re-opening of the question—First Minute of the Treasury, and reply—Mr. White acts for Sir C. Barry—Second Minute of the Treasury—Counter statement—Third Minute of the Treasury—Submitted to by Sir C. Barry—Protest of the Royal Institute of British Architects, and reply—Practice of the Government after Sir C. Barry’s death—General reference to the question of expenditure—Summing up of the chief points of the controversy | 143 |
| VII. The NEW PALACE AT WESTMINSTER. | |
| I. History of the Growth of the Design.—Influence of external circumstances on the design—Lowness and irregularity of site—Limitation of choice to Elizabethan and Gothic styles—Choice of Perpendicular style—Original conception of the Plan—Question of restoration of St. Stephen’s Chapel—Use of Westminster Hall as the grand Entrance to the building—Simplicity of plan—Principle of symmetry and regularity dominant—Enlargement of Plan after its adoption—Conception of St. Stephen’s porch—The Central Hall—The Royal entrance and Royal Gallery—The House of Lords, its construction and decoration—The House of Commons, and its alteration—Great difficulty of the acoustic problem—Enlargement of public requirements—Alterations of design in the River Front—The Land Fronts—The Victoria Tower—The Clock Tower—General inclination to increase the upward tendency of the design, and the amount of decoration. II. Brief Description of the Actual Building.—Its dimensions—Its main lines of approach; the public approach—The Royal approach—The private approaches of Peers and Commons—General character of the plan—The external fronts—The towers—Criticisms on the building by independent authorities | 236 |
| VIII. CHIEF DESIGNS NOT EXECUTED. | |
| Large number of designs not executed—Views of Metropolitan Improvement—Reasons for notice of such designs—Clumber Park—New Law Courts—National Gallery—Horse Guards—British Museum—General scheme laid before the late Prince Consort—Design for new Royal Academy—Crystal Palace—Alterations of Piccadilly and the Green Park—Prolongation of Pall Mall into the Green Park—Westminster Bridge—Extension of the New Palace at Westminster round New Palace Yard—Great Scheme of Metropolitan Improvements—Plan and description—General remarks thereon | 266 |
| IX. GENERAL NOTICE OF PUBLIC LIFE. | |
| Public action—His natural dislike of publicity—His characteristics as a Commissioner—Royal Academy—Scheme for Architectural Education—Royal Institute of British Architects—Scientific Societies—Royal Commission of 1851—Exposition Universelle of 1855—Professional arbitrations at Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Leeds—St. Paul’s Cathedral Committee | 302 |
| X. PRIVATE LIFE AND DEATH. | |
| Leading events of his life—General habits of work—Domesticity and privacy of life—Acquaintances and friendships—Distaste of publicity—Leading features of character—Personal appearance—Failure of health—Death—Funeral in Westminster Abbey—Erection of Memorial Statue—Conclusion | 323 |
| APPENDIX. | |
| (A.) List of Architectural Designs | 355 |
| (B.) Letter to his Royal Highness the Prince Consort as to the South Kensington Scheme | 358 |
| (C.) Papers on the Remuneration Controversy | 369 |
| (D.) List of Subscribers to the Memorial Statue | 405 |
Object of the work—Birth of Charles Barry—His childhood, schooldays, and apprenticeship—His early efforts and amusements—His self-education and its effects on his character—His determination to travel—His matrimonial engagement.
In the compilation of this memoir of my late father I have endeavoured to keep two objects in view. It is desired, on the one hand, to preserve for his family and his many personal friends some record of his private life and character. It is thought, on the other, that there will be some public value and interest in a notice of his opinions, designs, and works, and a general record of his professional career.
Even to the public at large it is conceived that his life, though it presents but little variety of incident, may yet be worth telling. He started with no advantages of birth, and with an imperfect education; he was supported by no influential connection or school of art, and was aided by no patronage except that which his own merit commanded. He won for himself a place among the foremost architects of Europe, not more by his talents than by a life-long devotion to his art, and an extraordinary power of work. Having earned this high position, he paid its usual penalty in the many difficulties and misrepresentations, which are inevitable to a professional career, and which, though they may be stoutly met, tend, far more than any mere work, to wear out the energies and shorten the life. The interest of biography seems to lie, not so much in variety of event, as in its illustration of human character, and the ordinary conditions of human life. It is hoped that this interest may not be altogether wanting in the following pages.
By his professional brethren it will probably be thought, that the history of so many public and private works, and of the questions raised and decided in connection with them, may bear on some points important to the profession at large, and that the grounds and the nature of the architectural principles, which he maintained, may excite interest, even where they do not secure agreement. It is not unlikely that the record of such a life as his may throw some light on the remarkable progress and diffusion of artistic taste, which appear to mark our own time, transforming the whole aspect of our country, and not indirectly affecting our national character. Since he entered on his career the forms of Art have changed, and its principles have been developed or modified. With some of these changes he strongly sympathized; others he strenuously resisted. But, in either case, the record of a life of ceaseless architectural activity, and of a mind keenly alive to artistic influences—readily impressible, and bound to no special school—must tend to illustrate the movements which have taken place, and are taking place still, in his own special province of Art.
It is for these reasons that the following memoir has been undertaken. In performing such a duty, it would be useless and unbecoming in a son to affect a position of independent criticism, or to claim credit for a strict impartiality. It can only be expected that he should record his father’s career as it was seen from his own point of view, and sketch his character as it appeared to those who loved him best. It can only be required that he observe strict truthfulness and accuracy as to facts, and due consideration for the feelings of others. If these limitations be observed (and I trust that in the following pages they will be observed most sacredly), experience has shown that such a record is likely to contain at least a large and essential portion of the whole truth. There will be subjects indeed on which it can only give the materials for judgment; for, where criticism is precluded, eulogium is at least equally out of place. But such correction and completion as it requires may be safely left to the impartial judgment of its readers.
In most cases its influence on the reputation of its subject is but a secondary one. The true and lasting reputation of a man will depend very little on any other memorial than the work which he has done, and the influence which he has exerted in his life-time; and on the results which he has thus left behind for the use and the verdict of posterity.
Charles Barry, the fourth son of Walter Edward and Frances Barry, was born in Bridge Street, Westminster, on the 23rd of May, 1795, in a house which (until last year) lay under the shadow of the Clock Tower of the New Palace at Westminster.
His father was a stationer of great respectability and some wealth,[2] as is seen by the fact that he supplied, in the course of his business, the materials used at the Government Stationery Office. His mother died in 1798, when he was a little more than three years old; but her place was supplied (so far as a mother’s place can be) by the care and affection of his stepmother, Sarah, to whom his father was married shortly after, and to whom, at his death in 1805, he left the care of his children, and of the business which was to support them. Most thoroughly did she fulfil the charge, and reap her due reward of respect and gratitude. Of the whole family he alone, even from his childhood, manifested artistic taste and capacity, and chose for himself, in spite of all difficulties, a new path in life. These difficulties were then far greater than they would be now, in a less stationary condition of society, with greater facilities for change and travel, and greater opportunities of artistic and general education. There was little in his home life to foster any high aspirations, although perhaps its wholesome atmosphere of honesty and regularity, of steady industry and “habits of business,” supplied a corrective influence much needed by an enthusiastic and artistic temperament.
He had little advantage of education. He went with his brothers to various private schools, such as schools then were. The first seems to have been a mere preparatory school; of the second, the only account preserved is that the “master paid little attention to it, being very dissolute, and absenting himself for weeks together;” and the last school, though perhaps rather better than the rest, was apparently one of those which attempted only mechanical teaching and severe discipline. Education, in the highest sense of the word, seems hardly to have been dreamt of. He carried away from it little except a superficial knowledge of English, a good proficiency in arithmetic, and a remarkably beautiful handwriting.
The account of his early days speaks of him as merely a warm-hearted and spirited boy, handsome and engaging in appearance, not very studious, full of fun, and by no means averse to mischief. His only remarkable talent was his taste for drawing; in this he was taught by a most incompetent man, and his best practice was in caricatures, especially of his drawing-master. The imperfection of his early training he always felt and regretted, in spite of his zealous efforts to supply its deficiencies. For, not to speak of the external difficulties which it threw in his way, it is obvious enough that his impulsive disposition, quick observation, and susceptible mind, especially needed the bracing and strengthening influence of a good education.
On leaving school, at the age of fifteen, he was articled to Messrs. Middleton and Bailey, architects and surveyors, of Paradise Row, Lambeth. With them he remained six years. Both took a strong and affectionate interest in him, and from them he received all the professional training which he ever enjoyed. Their business was mainly that of surveying; he could have learnt little with them of the artistic element of architecture. But his time was not wasted; for he studied accurately and industriously the “business” of his profession. Lists of prices, calculations of dimensions, methods of measuring and valuation, crowd his note-book, side by side with studies from Chambers’ Architecture, and sketches of such details and ornaments as struck his own fancy. In the later part of his time much responsibility was thrown upon him, and responsibility he never refused. The fruit was seen in after life in his excellent habits of business, and his ability to prepare his own working drawings, make out his own specifications and estimates, and form a sound judgment of materials and work. This knowledge stood him in good stead; he never failed to impress its importance on young architects; and, though he would not for a moment have allowed it to take equal rank with artistic power, he regarded the frequent neglect of it, and the increasing tendency to separate it from the higher province of art, as a serious evil, both in theory and in practice.
But he could not be satisfied with this semi-mechanical work. His name appears regularly in 1812, 1813, 1814, and 1815 in the architectural part of the catalogue of the Royal Academy. His first drawing, there exhibited when he was seventeen years old, still remains. It was a drawing of the interior of Westminster Hall, the building which (as has been well said) “was in after-days to give the key-note to his greatest work.” His other designs “For a Church,” “A Museum and Library,” “A Nobleman’s Mansion,” &c., have all perished. They had served their purpose, and were no doubt destroyed by himself, for he was always ruthless both in his criticism and his treatment of his early designs.
At an earlier age (about fifteen or sixteen) his artistic taste had found a much more curious development. There was much of the boy in him still (as indeed there was in all his after-life), and he did not disdain boyish fancies and amusements. Accordingly he resolved to transform his small attic bedroom into a “hermitage,"—“a rocky interior,” “with openings looking out on a sunny landscape.” The mechanical work and the painting he did entirely himself, working at it in all his spare time with constant delight; and when it was done, he kept up its character by using it as a painting-room, and drawing constantly figures of all kinds on a large scale on its walls. His family noticed all this with some wonder and amusement; he himself, though he used to laugh at it in after-life, remembered it with a kind of pleasure. These details may seem trivial, but they were certainly characteristic. The work must have given boldness to his hand (as scene-painting has done to some of our great painters); it may not improbably have helped to kindle and foster his imagination, and at the same time to satisfy that delight in alteration and contrivance which always was conspicuous in him.
In every respect his home was a simple and a happy one. If it did not stimulate artistic tastes, it certainly allowed them perfect freedom, and gave them the support of admiration and sympathy. His character, in spite of his fondness for change and amusement, was always strongly domestic. In his work, and the society of his mother (for so he always esteemed her) and his brothers, he found all the interest he cared for. Such are the records of his early days. They are scanty enough; but they are corroborated by the recollections of his later life, for his was a character that changed but little.
It is evident from these that he was in every sense of the word a self-educated man, and the recognition of this fact is most important, for the true appreciation of his character, and a right understanding of his career.
Even in general education this was strikingly the case. He carried away very little from school. His very journals show that he had to acquire for himself not only a knowledge of French and Italian (which he mastered sufficiently for all practical purposes), but even correctness and fluency of English. They show, during his foreign journey, almost as great progress in style as in thought—a progress gained, as usual with him, not so much by systematic study as by a certain “readiness of mind” and an unwearied practice. Mathematics and theoretical mechanics he had studied but little, and in fact he had little taste for such study. Their practical conclusions, as bearing on his own profession, he knew familiarly enough; and his mind was not only quick in its deductions from them, and bold even to the verge of rashness, but singularly fertile in all kinds of mechanical contrivance. But of systematic study of theory he was impatient. He could often, though at some risk, supersede it for himself by a kind of intuition, and he perhaps never estimated it at its true value.
But much more was this the case in all that regarded his own profession. No powerful mind had by its contact fired and influenced his; no deep course of study had imbued him with profound and systematic principles. He had gained “business” experience and practical knowledge; his strong natural tastes and powers had been cordially and kindly recognised, but in all that concerns the higher element of his profession he was left alone to find his way by his own observations and inductions to the first principles of Art. His natural character—vigorous, impulsive, and energetic—was allowed to grow by its own power, and to choose for itself both the method and the direction of growth.
The chief consequence was, as usual, an intense and absorbing devotion to the art which he had chosen as his work in life. He found it difficult to take any deep interest in anything else. In the political and social questions of the day he would often adopt the opinions of others. All his originality and his thought were already pre-occupied. In the service of architecture he held everything cheap; time, labour, and health were sacrificed as a matter of course; and keenly sensitive as he was to blame, yet he would defy the opinion of the world in search of what he deemed perfection.
His art was scarcely at any time absent from his mind, even in times of social relaxation or of more serious employment. He could hardly enter a room without seeing capabilities in it, and longing to develope them. But when an important design was in progress, it seemed to take entire possession of his mind. It was his custom to work it out almost wholly for himself, in its scientific and financial as well as its artistic bearings. His extraordinary rapidity of execution and untiring industry enabled him to keep up this custom to a great extent, even in his busiest times. In fact, when a design was once conceived—when it had once taken possession of his imagination—hard work at it was a relief. The idea of it would occur to him at his first waking, and he could not but rise, however early the hour, and set to work. Adverse criticism at such a time was rejected or disregarded, but a few days later it would be found to have sunk into his mind unconsciously; then it would be rapidly seized upon as if original, and its results, often greatly modified and reconstructed, would be produced in the most perfect good faith as new, perhaps to the very person who had first made the criticism. Difficulties were forgotten or defied in the attempt to perfect the idea conceived; drawings of the more important parts of the work altered scores of times until his fastidious taste was satisfied. He could not conceive the idea of resting contented with what was acknowledged to be defective, and he held that the word “impossible” was to be erased from his dictionary. In this absorbing devotion to his art lay the cause of infinite labour, many troubles, and much misapprehension, but in it lay, as usual, the secret of success.
Another effect of this early freedom and self-direction was a vigorous growth of self-reliance and originality. It perhaps entailed some want of philosophic symmetry and largeness of view, especially at a time when there was comparatively little study of great principles of art as based on substantial reason. Grounds of criticism were then sought by the generality in conventional rules, and by the more active minds in arbitrary conceptions of “taste,” till society was divided into the connoisseurs, who were to pronounce their arbitrary judgment, and the “ignobile vulgus,” who were obediently and ignorantly to accept their conclusions. Yet it gave him the power of progress, and it kept him also free from any tendency to bigotry and copyism. There is indeed the highest kind of originality, which combines philosophic knowledge and study with the power of a true development. But in practice, especially in the domain of art, the most important steps of progress are probably due to men of a happy intuition and an unscientific audacity, and such men are usually men who have guided and educated themselves.
He himself was avowedly and on principle an eclectic. He could not help recognising the excellences of various schools: but he knew too much to be satisfied with any single one, as if it were all-comprehensive, and to conclude accordingly that to it alone praise and devotion are due. His principles of design and construction had been worked out for himself, the fruit of many crude conceptions in theory and many trials in practice. For that very reason they became so deeply rooted in his mind, that, when he attempted to change his course, he found himself insensibly returning to them. His early study of Greek architecture did not prevent his appreciation of Italian and Gothic; and so he stood apart from the exclusive devotion to one or other style which now seems to divide the architectural profession. Such a position is a difficult and dangerous one, in art, as well as in politics or theology, but those who occupy it supply the chief resisting influence to stagnation, and open some of the chief avenues of progress. In his case it was all but inevitable; his natural character, and his early freedom from the trammels of any school of art, forbade his taking any other course. For even in his early days those characteristics were fixed which determined his after career.
With these capabilities, and with a fixed and hopeful resolution to cut out a path for himself, he passed through his time of pupilage, and attained his majority in 1816. He now began to act for himself, and he at once conceived, or perhaps after long consideration declared openly, a determination on which much of his future success depended. He was naturally formed to make his way in the world. To the mental qualities already enumerated he added the advantages of a handsome person, great fascination of manner, high spirits, and a sanguine temperament, which was well calculated to inspire confidence and win affection. He believed that he had the elements of success in him, and that he only needed freedom of scope and a more extended sphere than he could obtain at home. The result verified his belief. Perhaps the prophecy fulfilled itself.
By his father’s will, he and each of his brothers had inherited a certain sum of money, and the remainder of this inheritance, diminished by the expense of his education and his articles, now came into his hands. The sum was not a large one, and it was his all, for he had little expectations of assistance from without in entering on the risks of a professional career. He resolved to devote the whole, or the greater part of it, to an architectural tour.
The Continent was just opened by the peace of 1815. All English society was awaking from the torpor and isolation of the great European war. Architecture was receiving a fresh stimulus by the cessation of external difficulties, and fresh principles and models from abroad were breaking in upon its stereotyped forms. He naturally felt, with all the impressibility of his character, the influence of this universal movement; and at the same time, from deliberate consideration, he saw that his only chance of developing the power and satisfying the desires of which he was conscious, his only chance of gaining a thorough grasp of his art, and taking a high stand in his profession, lay in foreign travel. His mind wanted objects which the narrow and prosaic character of his home life could not supply. It wanted the intercourse of a society from which conventional barriers shut it out in England; it wanted scope for activity, and models by which its activity might be guided. Without foreign travel he might have had the certainty of a respectable position and sufficient emoluments in his profession; with it he took the risk of delay and difficulty, and the chance of a noble career.
The choice was not likely to cause him much hesitation. He decided at once, and kept to his decision firmly, in spite of the natural remonstrances of his family, who felt the risk, but did not understand the necessity. Travel was then comparatively rare, and thought by many to be needless. It seemed madness to risk on it so much of his slender resources. His stepmother alone was led by her own strong good sense, and by her unlimited confidence in him, to give him her decided support. At last his plans were fixed, and his journey, the length of which he did not anticipate, or at any rate did not disclose, was determined upon.
Before he left England he was engaged to Miss Sarah Rowsell. Her father, Mr. Samuel Rowsell, was employed in the same line of business which his own father had followed. After about a year’s acquaintance, the engagement was made on the eve of his departure; and with this fresh tie to home, and fresh incentive to exertion, he left England in June, 1817.