These three drawings were made as illustrations to James Hakewill’s “Picturesque Tour of Italy,” and they were worked from Hakewill’s sketches, as Turner at that time had never visited Italy. They formed part of Mr. Ruskin’s collection and were exhibited at the Fine Art Society’s galleries in 1878. It is stated in the text of Hakewill’s book that the view of Florence from Fiesole was “taken from the garden of the Franciscan convent at Fiesole,” but Mr. Ruskin has pointed out that the little bend of wall within which some monks are standing in the foreground on the left is not really a part of the Franciscan garden, but is one of the turns of the road in the ascent to Fiesole.
Mr. Ruskin regarded the Turin, from the Superga as one of his “very chiefly valued possessions.” And well he might. It is indeed a most exquisite and delightful piece of work. Each time I see it, it gives me a fresh thrill of pleasure; its colour is so cheerful and happy, the subject-matter is so well chosen—the contrast between the distant snow-clad mountains and the comfortable sheltered existence of the people of the city—and the design is so daring, so original, and carried out with such consummate skill and resource.
Mr. Ruskin tells us that the inlaid diamond-shaped mosaics in the pavement, which complete the perspective of the distance, are Turner’s own invention. “The portico is in reality paved with square slabs of marble only.” Perhaps Turner mistook some indications in Hakewill’s sketch for these insertions, or perhaps he felt that the bare space in the foreground wanted variety and calmly invented this artifice for the purpose. I notice that though these diamond-shaped mosaics look quite plausible and satisfactory in the drawing, Turner has altered them in the engraving, reducing the width of the black band and introducing another lozenge within the white centre.
The Lake of Nemi is, as Mr. Ruskin said, “consummate in all ways.” He goes on to point out how the light trees on the right have been left while the distant lake and crags were being finished; and that the towers and buildings of the Capuchin’s Convent high up on the right were painted before the sea horizon, “which is laid in afterwards with a wash that stops before touching the houses.” The town beyond the convent is Gensano, and the distant mountain on the Mediterranean is Monte Circello.
153. Valley of the Washburne, near Farnley, circa 1818 ([Plate XIV]).
136. Steeton Manor, near Farnley, do. ([Plate XVIII]).
32. Scarborough, 1818.[B]
Between 1812 and 1818, Turner made a series of nearly fifty drawings of views of Farnley Hall, inside and outside, and of places of interest in the grounds and in the neighbourhood. The Valley of the Washburne ([Plate XIV]) shows us the first stages through which most of these drawings passed. The whole subject is drawn very carefully in chalk on brown paper. A few touches of body-colour in the foreground and a slight wash over part of the sky begin the later stages, but then the drawing was for some reason carried no further. Yet one cannot regret this, for there is such a freshness, such overflowing vigour and happiness in what has been done that the most exigeant criticism can demand no more. This is a good example of what I have noticed repeatedly, that Turner’s drawings were always delightful at each stage of their development; and from the commencement they had a certain completeness and finality. They never suggest “work.” They always look as though the artist were just enjoying himself by putting down on the paper, without any effort whatever, the thoughts which had taken possession of his mind.
I do not know why this drawing was not “carried on,” as Turner would have expressed it. There is a superb and completely finished water-colour of a very similar view of the banks of the Washburne in the Farnley Hall collection, so perhaps Mr. Fawkes did not want another drawing of quite the same subject.
When I was at Farnley a few years before the war, I went to the Washburne intending to make a sketch of this picturesque view. But I found the banks covered with such a dense overgrowth of trees that the little river was entirely shut out from sight. The rocky crest of the Chevin was, however, still unaltered, and there was Caley Park on the slopes very much as when Turner had drawn it; and there was Leathley Church with its square tower, the Farnley place of worship, where the late owner of Farnley, the Rev. Ayscough Fawkes, was for many years incumbent.