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Bassano (Italy) (search for this): chapter 8
the sale of a private collection in Rome, and it was catalogued as a Tintoretto, but I said, No, Bassano; and it is the best Bassano I ever saw. The Italians call it Il Coconotte. Mr. Appleton had no intention of palming off doubtful paintings on his friends or the public; but in regard to Il Coconotte he was confident of its true value, and rightly so. The painting, so called from a head in the group covered very thinly with hair, was the pride of his collection and one of the best of Bassano's works. The other painting looked to me like a Palma, and I have always supposed that it was one. After this Mr. Appleton branched off on to an interesting anecdote concerning an Italian cicerone, and finally left his audience as well entertained as if they had been to the theatre. In 1871 he published a volume of poems for private circulation, in which there were a number of excellent pieces, and especially two which deserve a place in any choice collection of American poetry. On
Florence, S. C. (South Carolina, United States) (search for this): chapter 8
T. G. Appleton. Thomas G. Appleton, universally known as Tom Appleton, was a notable figure during the middle of the last century not only in Boston and Cambridge, but in Paris, Rome, Florence, and other European cities. He was descended from one of the oldest and wealthiest families of Boston, and graduated from Harvard in 1831, together with Wendell Phillips and George Lothrop Motley. He was not distinguished in college for his scholarship, but rather as a wit, a bon vivant, and a goodpowers. How far he believed in this occult science can now only be conjectured, but he was not a man to be easily played upon. He thought at least that there was more in it than was dreamed of by philosophers. When the Longfellow party was at Florence in April, 1869, Prince George of Hanover, recently driven from his kingdom by Bismarck, called to see the poet, and finding that he had gone out, was entertained by Mr. Appleton with some remarkable stories of hypnotic and spiritualistic perfor
Vesuvius (Italy) (search for this): chapter 8
tepping-stones invite Feet which shall never come; to left and right Gay colonnades and courts,--beyond, the glee, Heartless, of that forgetful Pagan sea. O'er roofless homes and waiting streets, the light Lies with a pathos sorrowfuler than night. Fancy forbids this doom of Life with Death Wedded; and with a wand restores the Life. The jostling throngs swarm, animate, beneath The open shops, and all the tropic strife Of voices, Roman, Greek, Barbarian, mix. The wreath Indolent hangs on far Vesuvius's crest; And beyond the glowing town, and guiltless sea, sweet rest. Tom Appleton was greatly interested in the performances of the spiritualists, trance mediums, and other persons pretending to supernatural powers. How far he believed in this occult science can now only be conjectured, but he was not a man to be easily played upon. He thought at least that there was more in it than was dreamed of by philosophers. When the Longfellow party was at Florence in April, 1869, Prince Georg
United States (United States) (search for this): chapter 8
est connoisseurs of his time. His finest enjoyment was to meet with some person, especially a stranger, with whom he could discuss the celebrated works in the galleries of Europe. He soon became known as a man who had something to say, and who knew how to say it. He told the Italian picture-dealers to cheat him as much as they could, and he gave amusing accounts of their various attempts to do this. He knew more than they did. After this time he lived as much in Europe as he did in America. Before 1860 he had crossed the Atlantic nearly forty times. The marriage of his sister to Henry W. Longfellow was of great advantage to him, for through Longfellow he made the acquaintance of many celebrated persons whom he would not otherwise have known, and being always equal to such occasions he retained their respect and good will. One might also say, What could Longfellow have done without him? His conversation was never forced, and the wit, for which he became as much distinguish
Europe (search for this): chapter 8
e figure during the middle of the last century not only in Boston and Cambridge, but in Paris, Rome, Florence, and other European cities. He was descended from one of the oldest and wealthiest families of Boston, and graduated from Harvard in 1831, was to meet with some person, especially a stranger, with whom he could discuss the celebrated works in the galleries of Europe. He soon became known as a man who had something to say, and who knew how to say it. He told the Italian picture-dealersusing accounts of their various attempts to do this. He knew more than they did. After this time he lived as much in Europe as he did in America. Before 1860 he had crossed the Atlantic nearly forty times. The marriage of his sister to Henry Wt have happened to the Sistine Madonna if it had not been put under glass,--these being the two most popular paintings in Europe. His fund of anecdotes was inexhaustible. Earlier in life he was occasionally given to practical jokes. A woman who
New England (United States) (search for this): chapter 8
shed a volume of poems for private circulation, in which there were a number of excellent pieces, and especially two which deserve a place in any choice collection of American poetry. One is called the Whip of the sky and relates to a subject which Mr. Appleton often dwelt upon,--the unnecessary haste and restlessness of American life, and is given here for the wider circulation which it amply deserves: The Whip of the sky. Weary with travel, charmed with home, The youth salutes New England's air; Nor notes, within the azure dome, A vigilant, menacing figure there, Whose thonged hand swings A whip which sings: “Step, step, step,” sings the whip of the sky: “Hurry up, move along, you can if you try!” Remembering Como's languid side, Where, pulsing from the citron deep, The nightingale's aerial tide Floats through the day, repose and sleep, Reclined in groves,-- A voice reproves. “Step, step, step,” cracks the whip of the sky: “Hurry up, jump along, rest when you di
Department de Ville de Paris (France) (search for this): chapter 8
T. G. Appleton. Thomas G. Appleton, universally known as Tom Appleton, was a notable figure during the middle of the last century not only in Boston and Cambridge, but in Paris, Rome, Florence, and other European cities. He was descended from one of the oldest and wealthiest families of Boston, and graduated from Harvard in 1831, together with Wendell Phillips and George Lothrop Motley. He was not distinguished in college for his scholarship, but rather as a wit, a bon vivant, and a gooen making its appearance on unexpected occasions to refresh his hearers with its sparkle and originality. In the Autocrat of the breakfast table Doctor Holmes quotes this saying by the wittiest of men, that good Americans, when they die, go to Paris. Now this wittiest of men was Tom Appleton, as many of us knew at that time. He said of Leonardo da Vinci's Last supper that it probably had faded out from being stared at by sightseers, and that the same thing might have happened to the Sistin
Como (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 8
a subject which Mr. Appleton often dwelt upon,--the unnecessary haste and restlessness of American life, and is given here for the wider circulation which it amply deserves: The Whip of the sky. Weary with travel, charmed with home, The youth salutes New England's air; Nor notes, within the azure dome, A vigilant, menacing figure there, Whose thonged hand swings A whip which sings: “Step, step, step,” sings the whip of the sky: “Hurry up, move along, you can if you try!” Remembering Como's languid side, Where, pulsing from the citron deep, The nightingale's aerial tide Floats through the day, repose and sleep, Reclined in groves,-- A voice reproves. “Step, step, step,” cracks the whip of the sky: “Hurry up, jump along, rest when you die!” Slave of electric will, which strips From him the bliss of easeful hours; And bids, as from a tyrant's lips, Rest, quiet, fly, as useless flowers, He wings his heart To make him smart. “Step, step, step,” snaps the whip of t
Venice (Italy) (search for this): chapter 8
xhibition at Doll's picture-store, and going into the rooms where they hung, I found Tom Appleton explaining their merits to a group of remarkably pretty school-girls. At the same moment, another gentleman who knew Mr. Appleton entered, and said, Ah! a Palma Vecio, Mr. Appleton; how delightful! It is a Palma, is it not? That, replied Mr. Appleton, is probably a Palma; but what do you say to this, which I consider a much better picture? The gentleman did not know; but it looked like Venetian coloring. Quite right, said Mr. Appleton; I bought it at the sale of a private collection in Rome, and it was catalogued as a Tintoretto, but I said, No, Bassano; and it is the best Bassano I ever saw. The Italians call it Il Coconotte. Mr. Appleton had no intention of palming off doubtful paintings on his friends or the public; but in regard to Il Coconotte he was confident of its true value, and rightly so. The painting, so called from a head in the group covered very thinly with h
Hanover (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 8
est; And beyond the glowing town, and guiltless sea, sweet rest. Tom Appleton was greatly interested in the performances of the spiritualists, trance mediums, and other persons pretending to supernatural powers. How far he believed in this occult science can now only be conjectured, but he was not a man to be easily played upon. He thought at least that there was more in it than was dreamed of by philosophers. When the Longfellow party was at Florence in April, 1869, Prince George of Hanover, recently driven from his kingdom by Bismarck, called to see the poet, and finding that he had gone out, was entertained by Mr. Appleton with some remarkable stories of hypnotic and spiritualistic performances. The prince, who was a most amiable looking young German, was evidently very much interested. Deafness came upon Mr. Appleton in the last years of his life, though not so as to prevent his enjoying the society of those who had clear voices and who spoke distinctly. When one of h
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