New-York tribune., 1883-06-17
LANDOR.
QUEER STORIES ABOUT THE AUTHOR.
LADY LYTToN BULwER's REMINIscENcEs-THE
MoNsTRoUs UMBRELLA-THE POET Q.

MoNsTRoUs UMBRELLA-THE POET O.
MANY wears ago. when Walter Savage Landor
lived at Bath the present writer was also ivlng IN
that most livea bic and exquistey beautiful OF Eng
tsh provincial cities. Poor Mr.: Landor the nero
of this paper used to say, in his peculiar way OF
ways called wooad9tat-'it is the most roOnderfully
beautiful city in the world Bath and Florence are
the only two places where can llve.' Well. when
also at that of lady whom shall call Mrs. Avenel.
who had two beautiful daughters, and a bobblede-
hoy of son, who had come in for no share OF the
family beauty, but who, being not a little cOnceit-
cd, and by no means gOodtempered, did very well
as butt for Mr.. Landor, as sort of background
to the complimentary poetical gems he was always
writing upon his two beautiful sisters But Mr.
LandoTs chief butt was an elongated, moth-eaten
looking individual. whom | shall call O.. but who
bulky quarto. which he called an epic poem; but,
alas, one of the very first crtiques upon IT. In 2
leading literary slaughter-hOuse of areview, had
been
AN epic poem should be sweet as mama;
But this, by Iove, Is ipeeacuanha!-
critique which Mr.. Landor, with one of his stem
torian roars, was never tired of repeating Nor diu
he even let the unfortunate O. in the corner where
the latter always sat in the presence OF the Wooh-
derfuP NAM of with that Tor the Poet O. had also
Niagara which be called his great. work. saying
e 1T had taken him twenty years TO concelHTe; suu
upon young lady Que evening SAYING, Dear apdnr mT
exploding as usual into of his roars at the men,
ton of Q's name, said. God bless my soul, you'd
twenty years like the Poet @!
Nor did Frederick Ayenel, whose overweening
concet certainly made him far game fare any pet.
ter at his hands Charles Kean was at that
time playing Hamlet to crowded houses
st Bath. Fred Avenel, lanky youth OF
eighteen, crowned with very red halr,
and having pale greenish eyes and an excelsior
nose Always aspiring upward. was seized with the
unaccnuntable mania that he embodied the true type
of hat had been Shakespeare's ideal OF the Dane;
the consequence was that poor Mrs. Ayenels house
re-echoed from morning to night wlth 10 De- OF
not to be that is the question:. And II the sense
of the house could have been taken THAT being an
attribute with which Fred had nothing to dol not
to be would have been carried nem con-; for hnn-
dred ducats would not have repaired the damage
done TO the dining room chairs, walls and curtains
in thrustlng at the mythologcsl rat that was dead
for ducat.' Nor did poor Mrs. Avenel feel at all
the volunteer and suDernumeraTy Hamlet burst
upon her and his sisters in the drawng-roon, en-
route for fancy ball, in all the black and purple,
Jet aud feathered glories of the Prince OF Denmark.
Announcing that he thought he looked the image OF
Xad the fine dark eyes. Fred. and the beautiful.
glossy curly dark hair, where are they asked his
Girls are such foolsp muttered the philosophic
Dane with O whitening sneer, as he strobe out Of
the room to where, 1t was to ee hoped he found
more appreciative spectators. There was no harm
in Sopby Aveneps query about the eyes-ea ne
firdit pas cOns6Quencc-but that about the hair
was fatal for three days after, when some amateur
theatricals were to be graced by this new Hamlet,
10 the straight obstinate vermillion locks were
which was q perfect facsimile OF fried parsley.
All Landor did was tortissimo, lncisive trencha1t,
ana M St ySuI GagP r ~ re at t6s
end of them. When he gave land though by no
means rich he gave oftenl II was always fully free
w. thoroughly or despite his old gaOardlne OF q
brown surtout, shining at the seams, and often
minus some buttons, made more conspicuous by
their absence-a garment IN which no lsrarlite could
have detected sufficient regeneraive capabilities TO
have Invested i,alf-a-crown-yet was the lining.
that is the man. thoroughly grand seigneur of the
rhanf hat Iafi
the RUE and not as the exception; OF the daYs, IN
fact. before this thoroughly radical era of adhesive
c"s Of the oS abOoed Wafer
postage-carGs and ali the denominations of
a similar stamp. Yet no butterfly emerged from Its
clrysalis state INTO Its purple, gold, and winged
giories could be more different than the matutinal
Walter Savage Landor III the aforesaid old brown
surlo1t' and the ihoIough6red; noble eo
that name when dressed for dinner. If his
laughte was muscular and stentoriaD, the thews
even with regard to his historical or archaeological
feuds, equally athletic, OF which SHAH give al
instance presently. 1t happened that thee was at
that time in Bath Young artist a portraltpainter
in oils whom Mr.LanGor palronIZed-no,uo not patron
lied, tor that was not his way: but whom he tried
To lie had sat 10 him or his portrait en- baste
which he gave me, perit CT replica of the magIfi-
cent Eead, and admirable as 10 tone and pose, with
just the faIntest sOapcon of the immortal cd
brown coat, sufficient to excite that quln-
tesence of faith, the evidence of things not
Nj. LandOr insisted that should SIT for my pic
ture 10 his protege consented upon the express
provisO hat he LandOT should always De there AT
the sittings. that l might either listen talk
during the penaDce, and not die OF ennul. SOme
time before this he had promised to send me bis
that thonght ne had forgotten all about II. But
not sO One morning a long deal case, looking
more like a case of champagne than anything else,
arrived. Ii contained not only Percies and AS
pasta, but Imaginary Conversations and all his
other works, quarto editions splendIdly bound n
russia and hned with blue more, If they had
hs4n 1 81
these magnificent volumes should lie ON table,
covered with Persian carpet, and, with Greek
hiled wi d flowers form part OF what painters
eaiI the ordinance OF the picture. Daring Of
these sttlngs the artist happened TO speak enthus-
aoucally about some lines Of Ben Jonson wGere-
upon Mr.. Landor who was seated at the tIme
bounded from his chair, began pacing the room ana
shaking bis tightly clenched hands as he thundeIed
out:
Ben Jonson not another word about him !! il
makes my blood boil! j haven't patience 10 hear
the fellows name A piqmy! upStart pre-
sumptuOus varetl WHO DARED TO be thought more
oi than Shakespeare was L. his day?
Well, but surely yentured the artist, so soon
as he could speak for suppressed laughter, that
was not poor Ben Jonson's fault but the fault of
the undiscrlminatIUg generation In which they both
lived
Not a, ail!' roared Landor, his eyebails be-
couing bloodshot and bis nostriis dIatlng-. not
az all Tue fellow should have walled himself up
in his own BRICK and mortar before he had cOnniyed
at ard allowed such sacriiege.'
But said |, for the painter cOuld not speak for
laughter, even If Ben Jonson mad been able 10
achieve such tour dc force as this architectural
suicide would nave 6een am very certain, NJ
Landor, that taking Every Man in his Humor,D
Shakespeare would have been the very first 10 pull
down bis friends bandiwork and restore him 10 the
world
No such thing' rejoned Mr. LandOr, turning
fercely upon me. Shakespeare never wasted his
time; and with his wonderful imagination he'd
have known he could have created ii ~ better
AZ another sitting nad equally ludcrous,
because equally vehement scene, though from
very different cause | happened to say 81 the
artist, Come now. Mr. -, ali hough Mrs. Pum-
rose did wish as many jewels in her picture thc
iimner could throw in for nothing, yet | really
must protest against your giving ne a.
mach fattery on tue same terms lt is all very
well for people 10 call my eyes violet by
confteav. hui if .hev are they must be the leaves