Watts (1817-1904) | Page 3

student at the schools and studies. It is told of him that
when just about to leave Florence, after a short visit, he casually
presented a letter of introduction to Lord Holland, which immediately
led to a four years' stay there, and this friendship lasted for many years
after the ambassador's return to England. Other groups of friends,
represented by the Ionides, the Prinseps, the Seniors, and the Russell
Barringtons, seemed to have possessed him as their special treasure, in
whose friendship he passed a great part of his life. Two great men, the
titular chiefs of poetry and painting, were much impressed by him, and
drew from him great admiration--Tennyson and Leighton; from the
latter he learned much; in the sphere of music, of which Watts was
passionately fond, there stands out Joachim the violinist.
Watts used to recall, as the happiest time in his life, his youthful days
as a choral singer; and he always regretted that he had not become a
musician. Besides being fond of singing he declared that he constantly
heard (or felt) mystic music--symphonies, songs, and chorales. Only
once did he receive a vision of a picture--idea, composition and
colours--that was "Time, Death, and Judgment." Music, after all, is
nearer to the soul of the intuitive man than any of the arts, and Watts
felt this deeply. He also had considerable dramatic talent.
In 1864 some friends found for Watts a bride in the person of Miss
Ellen Terry. The painter and the youthful actress were married in
Kensington in February of that year, and Watts took over Little Holland
House. The marriage, however, was irksome, both to the middle-aged
painter and the vivacious child of sixteen, whose words, taken from her
autobiography, are the best comment we possess on this incident:
"Many inaccurate stories have been told of my brief married life, and I
have never contradicted them--they were so manifestly absurd. Those
who can imagine the surroundings into which I, a raw girl,
undeveloped in all except my training as an actress, was thrown, can
imagine the situation.... I wondered at the new life and worshipped it

because of its beauty. When it suddenly came to an end I was
thunderstruck; and refused at first to consent to the separation which
was arranged for me in much the same way as my marriage had been....
There were no vulgar accusations on either side, and the words I read in
the deed of separation, 'incompatibility of temper,' more than covered
the ground. Truer still would have been 'incompatibility of occupation,'
and the interference of well-meaning friends.
"'The marriage was not a happy one,' they will probably say after my
death, and I forestall them by saying that it was in many ways very
happy indeed. What bitterness there was effaced itself in a very
remarkable way." (The Story of My Life, 1908.)
In 1867, at the age of fifty, without his application or knowledge, Watts
was made an Associate, and in the following year a full Member, of the
Royal Academy. Younger men had preceded him in this honour, but
doubtless Watts' modesty and independence secured for him a certain
amount of official neglect. The old studio in Melbury Road,
Kensington, was pulled down in 1868, and a new house was built
suited to the painter who had chosen for himself a hermit life. The
house was built in such a way as would avoid the possibility of
entertaining guests, and was entirely dedicated to work. Watts
continued his series of official portraits, and many of the most beautiful
mythical paintings followed this change. Five years later, Watts was
found at Freshwater in the Isle of Wight, and in 1876 he secured what
he had so long needed, the sympathetic help and co-operation in his
personal and artistic aims, in Mr. and Mrs. Russell Barrington, his
neighbours.
In 1877 Watts decided, in conformity with his views on patriotic art, to
give his pictures to the nation, and there followed shortly after, in 1881
and 1882, exhibitions of his works in Whitechapel and the Grosvenor
Gallery. A leaflet entitled "What should a picture say?" issued with the
approval of Watts, in connection with the Whitechapel Exhibition, has
a characteristic answer to the question put to him.
"Roughly speaking, a picture must be regarded in the same light as
written words. It must speak to the beholder and tell him something....
If a picture is a representation only, then regard it from that point of
view only. If it treats of a historical event, consider whether it fairly
tells its tale. Then there is another class of picture, that whose purpose

is to convey suggestion and idea. You are not to look at that picture as
an actual representation of facts, for it comes under the same