Morning Chats with William Morris

By R. Ponsonby Staples (from The New Budget, October 2nd 1895) Furnished with an introduction from a distinguished friend of Mr. William Morris, I called on him at Kelmscott House, Hammersmith; he was busy in his workroom with a friend, and I seemed to detect a shade of annoyance as he hurriedly scanned my letter. My visit had, no doubt, caused a slight interruption, for he took me into another room where two fine pastel portraits by Rossetti attracted my notice. What do these letters mean? H.S. what is it? Well, have you not some kind of an organization here? It is one of those evening meetings I wish to sketch, was my reply. Oh, of course; how stupid of me! - I forgot for the moment. I hate sitting for my portrait: very well, then, if you only wish to be in the house while I am designing I dont mind. If I were doing literary work it would be different. All right then, you will take your chance tomorrow morning. Thank you, and I was off, treading the tortuous back slums that lead from the Upper Mall to Hammersmith Broadway. The next morning was bright and sunny, so my chance was to find Mr. Morris out, which suited excellently well, as I was able to make a leisurely sketch of his study and few more interesting. Plain but artistically designed bookshelves, with narrow but well-carved mouldings; a large proportion of vellum-bound books, some real fifteenth and sixteenth century volumes, too, or indeed, earlier others modern. I took down and looked through Owen Joness Chinese Ornament, standing beside his Grammar of Ornament a work rather discarded by Mr. Morris, by the way. A plain drawing-table, such as architects use, with trestle legs, all littered with work, designs, manuscripts, &c., a large metal inkstand, a tobacco tub, and many quills scattered about; a very clean-washed carpetless floor, inlaid blue tiles round the fire-place, a short stair leading to a little upper room (probably an old power-room); a few fine wood-cuts by Albert Durer or his school, and ornamental knickknacks, but mostly books and books and books. Coming in from his walk, Mr Morris seemed good-naturedly prepared to sit

a little, in due form; but finding this was not required, enjoyed a pipe in his armchair, with his feet up, while I sketched and talked, or rather got talked to. It was such a fine morning that I took a walk, and, indeed, to tell you the truth, I forgot all about you. Yes, Wattss portrait of me was as like as it could stare; I hate sitting, and the only other recent likeness of me is by Richmond, a neighbour of ours here. Ah, Cardinal Manning? Well, I always think he was rather a ----- ! Well, I wont say that quite, either, only he had such a fine type and character, and also looked the part so well, which was an immense help to him. Are you interested in the Popes endeavours to re-unite the churches? Oh, not in the least. Whats the use? There is no practical difference between them. The present Roman Catholic Church has no affinity whatever with the Medieval Church; it changed at the time of the Reformation, just as much as the Protestants did. They are all nothing but a pack of Dons! As I did not quite catch the word and asked again, a complete Donnery, he repeated, and I seemed to recognise the spirit that must have revolted against his College Don in younger days. Tolstoi! Yes, he has certainly written some wonderful novels. Anna Carinida is one of them. No, his other religious works you mention only bore me. Of course, his idea is to turn the other cheek. That was all very well in the times of the Roman Emperors, because then you could not do anything else. The fact is, he has lived his life and is now quite blas; besides, he sees everything from a Russian point of view. Its a quite impossible country to live in, you know. A friend of mine who was travelling there got a bad bank-note passed off on him by some rascally Jew, and a Russian friend asked him what he was going to do about it. Do? Nothing, of course; whats the good of bothering about it? Oh, but you must see to it, or else you will be considered an accessory. You must go and inform the police of the matter. Well, he does this, and is immediately arrested, and has all his papers taken from him. Now, you cant move a step without your papers in Russia; in fact, the whole thing simply meant backsheesh, and he had to pay right and left to get them back.

The truth about the late Czar is that he was not quite right in his mind, and as to the present one, from what I hear, he is rather a snob. You say he could not easily alter matters, and the democracy might destroy him if he tried to; but remember, if you are a Czar, the chance of being assassinated is part of the days work, of course. Yes, I knew Willy Ralston very well, and was at the dinner he gave to Tourgonieff at the Arts Club; it seemed to me that he was taking him about rather like a tame bear! What? Madame de Nivikoff? Ah, yes, I believe she did flirt with Mr. G., but she tells such awful crammers, and little else too. Coming in another morning Mr. Morris said, Do you hear the rooks? These are coming to build in the trees here, Im glad to say, and it makes one feel miles and miles away in the country. Rooks are very queer chaps with funny fancies; one of the Rosthschilds, down by Kew, has done all he can to entice them, but they wont build on his trees. No, I cannot tell which one it is; I am not particularly interested in their tribe. Getting on the subject of race, in connection with the Jews, he said, If any race breeds in and in, it is sure to get its peculiarities too much accentuated. The great thing is to be a mongrel. It is possible, as you suggest, that the Americans of to-day, who have, no doubt, to a great extent, a certain type, may be affected by the American Indian blood. There are one or two marked peculiarities common to both viz. The spare beard, the wiry development, and large ears. The old American Indians were entirely of one race from end to end of America, but the construction of their language was such that it very easily altered, and when tribes got separated for a time they soon lost the power of understanding one another. Now, do you think there is anything Jewish in my type? As some of my friends think so. Some say we are the lost tribe, I replied; but what do you call yourself? Oh, Cimbri, certainly quite Welsh. Thats the Jewish type, said Mr. Morris, as he drew a series of very hooky noses on blotting-paper before him. Do you really think so? Because I cannot quite agree with you. I dont think at all, I know it, was the tart reply: go and look at the portrait of Sardanapalus at the British Museum.

Then how about the old Jew Rabbi, by Rembrandt, at the National Gallery, and was not Sardanapalus Assyrian? Well, Semitic, if you like; the curved nose is the true type, theres no doubt. By the way, talking of the American Indians, they got the horse from Europe, you know; its one of the few countries where the horse was not indigenous. In prehistoric times in Europe they couldnt ride him, but only eat him when they could catch him, or use his bones as an ornament; dont you know that mound somewhere in France where horses bones are stuck round like a palisade? Ah, the little inland horses. They are now little chaps, and must, I fancy, have originally been brought over from Norway. To look at him, you would think he was no good at all, with his head hanging down; but once you are on him, whist! and off he goes. Well, in painting I am only really interested in what is purely decorative. No, I do not know Courbets work well: one good thing he did was to pull down the Column Vendome, which was a horrid piece of Imperial upholstery! But certainly your modern impressionist is well, you know, if I wanted a picture, I should want something a little more than that; its so very vague. I can carry about as much as that in my own mind; I want a little more than I can remember myself, ho! with a hearty laugh. About the Academy? I suppose it is a good shop. Well, is there a better one? Indeed, you think the artists studio is best; perhaps that is so. Whats that you say about trying the rights of the R.A. by an action at law? Well, I think that in all these matters, the public are very like a crowd watching a dog-fight; they enjoy the fun immensely while it lasts, but dont care two straws which side wins. Yes, I am for Home Rule in Ireland: it has fallen in the background for a while, so many other things have come forward since; no doubt they might fight for a time, but then they like it, so why shouldnt they? The Celts always liked fighting; that is what surprised the Romans so much, who did not care for it at all, but when obliged to they did it very well. The Gauls actually enjoyed it above all things. Well, with the railways, I would go further than the Zone system you would like tried in Ireland; they ought to be quite free! We have done it in some things. Take, for instance, the bridges; at one time you could not cross without paying a toll; and, indeed, it seemed quite fair that you should.

A friend of mine, an engineer, tells me that the great cost in railway travelling only begins after a certain rate of speed, and if not above 25 miles an hour the cost per head is extremely small; now, if you have to go to Manchester or Liverpool horrid places, by the way the slower you go the better! You know the idea of a penny post was once considered quite ridiculous, and Sydney Smith, very shrewd man in his day, scouted it as absurd; indeed, it must have seemed so then. I send a letter to the next street for one penny, another to John-o-Groats for one penny! Good-bye.