Recollections of the late William Beckford of Fonthill, Wilts and Lansdown, Bath | Page 7

of the most rare and precious engravings. The sides of

the library are adorned by Scagliola pilasters and arched recesses,
which contain the books. The interstices between the arches and the
ceiling are painted in imitation of marble, so extremely like that though
they touch the Scagliola it is next to impossible to distinguish any
difference. The ceiling is belted across and enriched with bands of
Grecian tracery in relief, delicately painted and slightly touched with
gold. On the walls are some gilded ornaments, enough to give to the
whole richness of effect without heaviness. Between the windows is
what I suppose may be termed a table, composed of an enormous slab
of the rarest marble, supported by elegantly cast bronze legs. Over this
a small cabinet (manufactured in Bath from drawings by Mr.
Goodridge) full of extremely small books; it is carved in oak in the
most elaborate manner. The fireplace, of Devonshire marble, is perfect
in design and in its adaptation to the rest of the room; in fact,
everything in this lovely chamber is in unison, everything soft, quiet,
and subdued.
New wonders awaited me. Next to the library is a sort of vestibule
leading to a staircase, which from its mysterious and crimson light, rich
draperies, and latticed doors seemed to be the sanctum sanctorum of a
heathen temple. To the left a long passage, whose termination not being
seen allowed the imagination full play, led for aught I know to the
Fortress of Akerman, to the Montagne du Caf or to the Halls of Argenti.
Ou sout peintes toutes les createures raissonables, et les animaux qui
ont habite la terre.
To the right two latticed doors, reminding you of Grand Cairo or
Persepolis, ingeniously conceal the commonplace entrance from the
Crescent. The singular and harmonious light of this mysterious
vestibule is produced by crimson silk strained over the fanlight of the
outer door. "This place," I observed, "puts one in mind of the Hall of
Eblis." "You are quite right," he observed, "this is unquestionably the
Hall of Eblis." "Those latticed doors," I continued, "seem to lead to the
small apartment where the three princes, Alasi, Barkiarokh, and Kalilah,
related to Vathek and Nouronchar their adventures." He seemed
amused at my observations, and said, "Then you have read 'Vathek.'
How do you like it?" "Vastly. I read it in English many years ago, but

never in French." "Then read it in French," said Mr. Beckford. "The
French edition is much finer than the English."
We mounted the staircase. Above you in open niches are Etruscan
vases. The ceiling is arched and has belts at intervals. "I wished to
exclude the draughts," said Mr. Beckford, "and to do away with the
cold and uncomfortable appearance you generally have in staircases."
The effect of the whole is so novel that you lose all idea of stairs, and
seem merely going from one room to another. As you stand on the
landing the vaulted and belted ceiling behind you has the appearance of
a row of arches in perspective. The same solemn and mysterious gloom
pervades the staircase. The architect has frequently entreated to be
allowed to introduce a little more light, but in vain. The author of
"Vathek" will not consent to the least alteration of the present mystical
effect, and he is quite right. This warm and indefinite light produces not
only the effect of air, but also of space, and makes the passage before
noticed, seen through the latticed doors, apparently of lines of real
dimensions.
Mr. Beckford drew aside a curtain. We entered the smaller of two
lovely drawing rooms lately fitted up. Before us, over the mantelpiece,
was suspended a magnificent full length portrait by Gaspar de Crayer
of Philip II. of Spain. Just then my head was too full of the Hall of
Eblis, of "Vathek" and its associations, for mere ordinary admiration of
even one of the finest portraits painted, and on Mr. Beckford pointing
out the whitefaced monarch I almost involuntarily ejaculated "Pale
slave of Eblis." He burst out laughing. "Eh! eh! what? His face is pale
indeed, but he was very proud of his complexion." This is a very fine
group. Philip is represented dressed in a suit of black armour,
elaborately chased in gold, standing on a throne covered with a crimson
carpet. Near him is his dwarf, dressed in black, holding the helmet,
adorned with a magnificent plume of feathers, and turning towards his
master (the fountain of honour) a most expressive and intelligent face.
"That dwarf," said Mr. Beckford, "was a man of great ability and
exercised over his master a vast influence." Lower down you discover
the head of a Mexican page, holding a horse, whose head, as well as
that of the page, is all that