Devonshire Characters and Strange Events

by S. Baring-Gould

“Fortunately, my friend’s passion had now a fresh object—Fischer’s hautboy; but I do not recollect that he deprived Fischer of his instrument, though he procured a hautboy.

“The next time I saw Gainsborough he had heard a harper at Bath. The performer was soon left harpless, and now Fischer, Abel, and Giardini were all forgotten—there was nothing like chords and arpeggios.

“More years passed, when, upon seeing a Theorbo in a picture of Van Dyck, he concluded that the Theorbo must be a fine instrument.” But Theorbos were no more played. The nearest approach to one was a lute. On inquiry Gainsborough ascertained that there was a poor German professor who performed on the lute, living in a garret. To him went the artist full of eagerness. The lute he must have. The poor man was reluctant to part with it; but finally sold it for ten guineas.

“But I must have the book of airs for the instrument,” said Gainsborough; “the instrument is no good without the book.” After much haggling, at last the German parted with the music-book for another ten guineas. “In this way,” says Jackson, “Gainsborough frittered away his musical talents, and though possessed of ear, taste, and genius, he never had application to learn his notes.”

Another acquaintance of Jackson’s was Sir Joshua Reynolds. Of him he says: “Whatever defects a critical eye might find in his works, a microscopic eye could discover none in his heart. If constant good-humour and benevolence, if the absence of everything disagreeable, and the presence of everything pleasant, be recommendations for a companion, Sir Joshua had these accomplishments.”

Of Jackson’s musical powers it is not necessary to speak. Details concerning his compositions may be found in Grove’s Dictionary of Music, and his songs “Love in thine eyes for ever dwells,” “Take, O take those lips away,” and “Time hath not thinned my flowing hair,” are still not quite dead. His “Te Deum in F” rang through every village church in England.

He made many visits to London, and returned each time more dissatisfied with Exeter, to which he was bound by his occupation as organist of the cathedral, and by his family.

The Literary Society of Exeter and its environs was not inconsiderable in number. Several of the resident clergy, some physicians and other gentlemen, had instituted what they called “The Exeter Society.” They proposed to rival, by volumes of their own, the Transactions of the Manchester Society, whose occasional appearance had attracted some notice. But a committee sitting judicially on the contributions of their neighbours and of each other nearly broke up their friendly intercourse.

In this “Exeter Society” from the first Jackson had declined to enrol himself as a member. He kept aloof; he took no interest in their enterprise. He kept on good terms with the members, not entering into friendship with any, but also keeping free from their rivalries and contentions.

He was known throughout England as “Jackson of Exeter.” This was because, on the publication of his first set of songs, he had described himself as “William Jackson of Exeter” to distinguish himself from another Jackson who was a musician at Oxford. The last twenty years of his life were passed in a voluntary seclusion. A good many regretted this; he supposed that his talents made him an object of jealousy in the petty world of a cathedral city. He was not made as much of there as he deemed that he deserved. Few strangers, however, visited Exeter without seeking an introduction to this eminent man; and his door was always open to those young men who were of a poetical cast of mind. Even Dr. Wolcot, the venomous Peter Pindar, had a kindly word to say for him in verse. His favourite composer of words for his songs was one Bampfylde, a Devonshire poet, whose sonnets have never been collected, and which would not commend themselves to modern taste. Rendal, a polished versifier, composed for him a series of fairy personifications, with distinct scenery and appropriate action, to introduce new combinations of music. The fays were in caverns, on lakes, on a volcano, among glaciers, in the billows of the sea, in groves lit by the evening star. The music of the “Fairy Fantasies,” as these were called, was one of the latest compositions of Jackson.