That Universal Strain
The library at Shugborough was no pretentious status symbol but a cosy gentleman’s study at the heart of a modest villa, a place for repose and serious contemplation. It contained the fruits of the classical and ancient world, according to the anonymous 1767 poem –
Nor shall the CLASSIC Library remain
Unsung, replete with learning’s genuine stores:
Not metaphysic dream, or sceptic doubt,
Or fierce polemic wrangle; but the songs
Of ancient Greece, that universal strain
That earth & Heaven applauded, & the Gods
With rapture stoop’d to hear….
(Staffordshire Archives D615/P(S)/2/5)
Thomas’s collection of books and art treasures was offered up for sale almost in its entirety in 1842 to pay for the disastrous gambling debts of Thomas, 2nd Viscount Anson (1795-1854). Before the library was catalogued a few years ago it had been assumed that everything of value had been lost, but several important relics of the 18th century collection have proved to have been there resting on the shelves, unnoticed.
The library contained all the standard classics that such a studious gentleman would be expected to own. These included very fine and valuable volumes including Aldine editions of Greek literature published in Venice in the early 16th century. There were also, not surprisingly, books of architecture and art, including a complete set of Piranesi engravings. There were classics of travel literature and early texts on horticulture. On the science side there was a 1713 edition of Newton’s “Principia” and, more esoterically, Newton ’s “Chronology of Ancient Kingdoms amended” of 1727, which William Jones had assisted Newton with in the 1720s.
An intriguing feature of the collection was a group of first editions, in French, of works by Jean Jacques Rousseau, including the novels “Emile” (1762), two editions of “La Nouvelle Heloise” (1761), “A Discourse on Inequality” (1755), letters (1769) and “Remarks on his writings” (1767).
This suggests that Thomas had a fairly serious interest in the philosopher.
Rousseau was a powerful influence on radical thinkers in England. The presence of his works in the library is an indication that even in his late sixties Anson was forward looking and even revolutionary in his thought. In “A Discourse on Inequality” Rousseau famously declared that man “is born free but everywhere is in chains”, and that society corrupts the essential goodness of humanity.
Rousseau may seem remote from Shugborough but there were surprising points of contact in the 1760s.
In the novel “Julie, of the New Heloise” (1761) Rousseau sends a principal character on the voyage round the world with Admiral Anson. Rousseau had been inspired by descriptions, in Admiral Anson’s “Voyage”, of the unpopulated islands, Tinian and Juan Fernandez. In ‘Julie’ the hero visits the islands and returns to find Julie has a made a wilderness garden which captures their spirit:
I was looking at the wildest, loneliest spot in the whole of nature, and I seemed to be the first mortal who had ever penetrated within this wilderness.
It is curious coincidence these descriptions in Anson’s “Voyage” inspired Rousseau, who in turn influenced a taste for more natural garden design, notably in the second Earl of Harcourt’s garden at Nuneham Courtney.
Rousseau came to England in 1766 as a temporary exile after the publication of his “Social Contract” which made him an outcast in Europe as a supposedly dangerous revolutionary.
He stayed at Wootton Hall, near Ellastone, Staffordshire, from March 22nd 1766. He passed his time walking to Dovedale, studying the wild plants, and writing his “Confessions”. Erasmus Darwin, an admirer, went out of his way to meet Rousseau “by accident” while walking. This was so obviously contrived that the philosopher was very annoyed. Though David Hume, who had invited him to England, persuaded George III to grant Rousseau a pension, Rousseau became neurotically suspicious of Hume and returned to France in June 1767.
At Wootton Hall Rousseau’s closest friend was 22 year old Brooke Boothby who visited him again in later life and called him “a divine man”. Boothby had lived in Stafford in his school years and after 1772 was part of the Lichfield literary circle, with Erasmus Darwin and Anna Seward.
Rousseau was near enough to Shugborough to be able to make a day visit – or for Thomas Anson to make the trip to Wootton. If he was an enthusiast, as the collection of books suggests, or simply curious, a visit would surely have been irresistible.
The anonymous poem is dated July 7th 1767, just after Rousseau left Staffordshire. It describes, with its invocations of the natural landscape as well as the artificial world of the gardens, an idyllic world which seems close to Rousseau’s principle of “back to nature” as well as Greek ideals of harmony and beauty. The park was apparently open to passing shepherds and shepherdesses, and it was a place where wild animals were safe from shooting and hunting:
To every creature that the vital air
Sustains, is ANSON’S kind benevolence
Extended: beasts of chace, & fowl of game
Secure in his protection roam at large
Unpersecuted. Never here was heard
The hunter’s barbarous shout, or clam’rous horn
To fright the peacefull shades; or murd’ring gun
To stain the hospitable fields with blood.
Thomas Anson was socially conscious. As with other grand projects in country houses a large part of the object was to create employment:
Nor to the love of arts alone (tho’ that
Well understood is praise) ascribe we all
These stately fabrics, this so splendid scene:
Humanity, attention to relieve
Industrious want, instruct, emply the poor,
His better motive. Sacred Charity
Bids every pile with happier auspice rise.
Thomas’s exercise of “sacred charity” included building new cottages in the village in the 1760s. The paintings by Dall suggest the village buildings were integrated into the landscape and local peasants were free to come and go. Nathaniel Kent wrote of his enlightened treatment of the tenants on his Norfolk properties.
The poem ends in a romantic and picturesque mood:
Along the sunny ridge that overhangs
Eastward thy fair demesnes, & wide commands….
Westward, with near approach, & bolder swell,
The wavy hills rise mountainous, befringed
With gloomy groves of never-changing leaf,
Cedar, or pine, or fir: plantations vast,
And venerable! …
…Oft let me wander, when the morning ray
First gilds thy groves & streams, & glittering towers,
And meditate my uncouth DORIC lay…
A carving of a mask of Pan on the sandstone caves on the Haywood Cliffs, now separated from the house by canal and railway, suggests that they were part of the original landscape, a Rousseau style hermit’s cave.
It could be, of course, that these odds and ends encourage us to project attitudes onto the Thomas Anson which may not have been his, but it would be wrong to assume that all 18th century landowners had the same attitudes to their estates and peasantry. These pieces of evidence suggest that the social views of a landlord inspired by the ideals of Greece could be extremely liberal. Equally the attitudes of some of the early industrialists were very far removed from 19th and 20th century stereotypes of capitalists. Some members of the Birmingham based “Lunar Society” were outspoken supporters of the French Revolution.
James Harris was the leading philosophy of the Greek Revival, and an enthusiast Platonist when such a thing was against the spirit of the time. His works give an idea of the intellectual background to the movement. Even clearer are the writings of Harris’s friend and colleague, Floyer Sydenham, but Sydenham is the only one of this small circle of Platonic Revolutionaries who has no known direct connection with Thomas, so his contribution will be looked at in the final chapter.
It was Harris who passed on Thomas Anson’s symbolically significant story of his encounter with old sailor on the isle of Tenedos. Harris had been a trustee, with Sir Thomas Parker, of various codicils to Lord Hardwicke’s, and it is Harris and his family who are the sources for Thomas’s musical activities in his last decade.
James Harris (1709-1780), MP for Salisbury, was born in Salisbury in 1709. His father’s first wife had been Catherine Cocks, whose sister Margaret married Philip Yorke, later Lord Hardwicke, Lord Chancellor, father- in-law of George Anson.
James Harris’s mother, Lady Elizabeth Ashley (1681-1743) was the sister of Harris’s greatest inspiration and influence, Lord Shaftesbury, though Shaftesbury died when Harris was only four.
Anthony Ashley Cooper, Third Earl of Shaftesbury. Shaftesbury, as a philosopher of the Enlightenment, was an influence throughout Europe. Shaftesbury wrote rambling dialogues examining matters of morality and ideas. Importantly, he encouraged the use of “raillery”, the value of making fun of mistaken ideas and to deflate pomposity.
Shaftesbury was not the only encouragement for a young Salisbury philosopher as the city already had a tradition of Platonic, idealist, philosophy in John Norris (1657-1712) and Arthur Collier (1680-1732). As Clive T Probyn writes
during the childhood and early manhood of ‘Hermes’ Harris the intellectual atmosphere of Salisbury was thick with Idealism.
((Clive T Probyn. The Sociable Humanist. The Life and Works of James Harris 1709-1780, OUP, 1991)
The first published work which belongs to this movement is James Harris’s “Three Treatises” of 1744. There was a first edition in the library at Shugborough. The second edition had a frontispiece by “Athenian” Stuart.
The first two treatises, in fact they are Platonic dialogues, “Concerning Art”, and “Concerning Music and Painting and Poetry”, are rather dry and academic, but the third, “Concerning Happiness” launches into flights of philosophical enthusiasm from the character called Theophilus, who is probably modelled on Sydenham, to whom the treatise is dedicated. This dialogue is imagined as a conversation while strolling through the grounds of Wilton House, near Salisbury. This book is, in effect, the handbook of this Platonic Revolution, and similar thoughts might be in the minds of Thomas Anson and George Lyttelton as they walk in their own landscapes.
These speeches include Stoic views of the universe in which every person is part of a whole, each person’s life depending on each other, and on every part of the Universe down to “the smallest Atom.”
THIS whole UNIVERSE itself is but ONE CITY or COMMONWEALTH – a System of Substances variously formed, and variously actuated agreeably to those forms— — a System of Substances both immensely great and small, Rational, Animal, Vegetable, and Inanimate. As many Families make one Village, many Villages one Province, many Provinces one Empire; so many Empires, Oceans, Wastes, and Wilds, combined, compose that Earth on which we live.
(James Harris, Three Treatises, 1744. Second edition, 1765, pp 225-6)
The object of this contemplation is Truth, and from Truth, and from a virtuous life inspired by Truth, comes happiness. The enthusiastic Theophilus comes to a climax –
HERE let us dwell ;— — be here our Study and Delight. So shall we be enabled, in the silent Mirrour of Contemplation, to behold those Forms, which are hidden to Human Eyes’ — that animating WISDOM, which pervades and rules the whole — that LAW irresistible, immutable, supreme, which leads the Willing, and compels the Averse, to co-operate in their Station to the general Welfare — that MAGIC DIVINE, which by an Efficacy past Comprehension, can transform every Appearance, the most hideous, into Beauty, and exhibit all things FAIR and GOOD to THEE, ESSENCE INCREATE, who art of purer Eyes, than ever to behold Iniquity.
BE these our Morning, these our Evening Meditations — with these may our Minds be unchangeably tinged — — that loving Thee with a Love most disinterested and sincere; enamoured of thy Polity, and thy DIVINE ADMINISTRATION…
(James Harris, op. cit. pp 233-234)
These philosophers did, indeed, have such conversations as they wandered. Clive T Probyn quotes a description of a similar stroll, this time involving James Harris and Lord Lyttelton at Hagley, where Lyttelton had built his Doric Temple, the iconic first building of the architectural Greek Revival. This conversation possibly took place during Harris’s six day visit there in 1767. This comes from a manuscript dedication to an “Essay on Criticism”.
Harris reminds Lyttelton of their conversations –
…that striking one in particular, when I heard you with such attention, as we were walking together in the groves of Hagley, during the calm silence of a starry night. Yr Lordship remembers the time, & knows wt I relate to be no poetical reverie. The scene was actual nature exquisite in its kind; the subject founded not in fiction, but in truth, and such a one, as might well become a wise & good man, the nature of whence those Beautys were derived.
(Clive T Probyn, The Sociable Humanist. The Life and Works of James Harris 1709-1780, OUP, 1991, p. 69.)
This is exactly the kind of conversation one would hope took place between the members of this small Platonic circle.
Harris’s “Hermes, or a philosophical enquiry concerning universal grammar” was first published in 1751. The second edition, revised and corrected, appeared in 1765, and included a frontispiece by James Stuart, as did the second edition of “Three Treatises”. This is, on the surface, a very abstract account of the building blocks of language, but a glance at the layout of the publication shows that it is also a compendium of quotations from Greek writers, with translations, in footnotes that sometimes greatly exceed the amount of text..
By Book the Third the footnotes take over altogether and there are pages with only one or two lines of text – but this is, surely, a visual and dramatic device, as by pages 383 onwards a climax is reached with the crucial discussion of Platonic Forms and Ideas, as having reality beyond the world of matter, and the outstandingly Platonic statement –
The WHOLE VISIBLE WORLD exhibits nothing more, than so many passing pictures of these same immutable archetypes.”
(James Harris, Hermes, Second edition, 1765 pp 383-4)
Harris’s Preface explains that the purpose of this odd book is
…to excite his readers to curiosity and inquiry…to become Teachers to themselves…
He hopes that the variety of sources, Greek and Roman, will help the reader understand that
there is ONE TRUTH, like one Sun, that has enlightened human Intelligence through every age, and saved it from the darkness both of Sophistry and Error.
(James Harris, ibid, Preface,)
Another of the small circle of Platonic Revolutionaries was Elizabeth Carter, the close friend of architect and astronomer Thomas Wright. Thomas Anson’s copy of the first edition of her translation of the works of Epictetus is another of the books that has been rediscovered in the cataloguing of the Shugborough library. Though she became famous as the translator of a Stoic, she was a Platonist at heart.
I must confess I have a much higher pleasure in reading Plato, and the other philosophers who wrote before our Saviour, than Epictetus, Marcus Antoninus, and the others who lived after. The remarkable difference in the clearness of their notions, shews that they must have been acquainted with the Christian Religion; and that such men should have been acquainted with it, and borrowed their best lights from it, and yet not be Christians, gives one a very painful feeling.
(A Series of Letters Between Mrs. Elizabeth Carter and Miss Catherine Talbot, from the Year 1741 to 1770: To which are Added, Letters from Mrs. Elizabeth Carter to Mrs. Vesey, Between the Years 1763 and 1787; Published from the Original Manuscripts in the Possession of the Rev. Montagu Pennington, Volume 1. F.C. and J. Rivington, 1809)
Another writer who had an important influence on the revival of classical ideals in the Arts – or his interpretation of them – was Johann Joachim Winckelmann.
Thomas Anson’s copy of his illustrated encyclopedia of ancient art, Monumenti antichi inediti . spiegati ed illustrati da Giovanni Winckelmann (1767) and a French translation of his Letter on the discoveries of Herculaneum (1764, the original edition was 1762) are still in the Shugborough library.
Winkelmann influenced a new understanding of classical art, which envouraged the 18th century view of the purity of Greek art – of pure lines and white marble – which was not a true image of the art and architecture of the Greeks as it was at the time but an ideal. Later generations were shocked to discover Greek sculpture had been coloured.
Winkelmann’s attitude is likely to parallel Thomas Anson’s, the devotion to the “noble simplicity and quiet grandeur” of Greek Art. (Thoughts on the Imitation of Greek Works in Painting and Sculpture, 1755).
The only way for us to become great…is the imitation of the Greeks.
Winckelmann saw true beauty in classical sculpture in the masculine form. He was tragically murdered in a bedroom in Trieste on June 8th 1768 by a “fellow traveller”.
There is no evidence of a direct connection between Anson and Winckelmann, though John Dick, who acted as Thomas’s agent in the purchase of art in Italy, mentions in a letter that he had written to Winckelman for advice on a statue of Venus that Thomas was thinking of buying.
There is a further sign of the influence of Winckelmann in the 1767 anonymous poem which has inexplicably been ascribed to Anna Seward by some writers. It is clearly dated July 7th1767 and has nothing at all to do with the poem Anna Seward’s father gave to Lady Anson in Lichfield in September 1756.
The lengthy poem is written in imitation of Milton, in blank verse, a style never used by Anna Seward.
Though many poets imitated Milton, including, in small doses, Lord Lyttelton, a possible candidate for the authorship is Richard Jago.
Richard Jago (1715-1781) was born at Beaudesert, Warwickshire, near Henley-in-Arden.He was a school friend of William Shenstone, the creator of the influential romantic garden at The Leasowes near Halesowen. Jago’s “Edge-Hill” is a rambling poem in Miltonic blank verse which includes many passages describing both natural landscapes and man-made landscapes, including Shenstone’s The Leasowes and also tributes to his friend Sanderson Miller, who built a
“Edge Hill” was begun in 1762 and published in 1767, the year of the Shugborough poem, which could almost be seen as a sequel or appendix to Jago’s epic. It has passages which are very similar indeed to the landscape descriptions in Edge-Hill. It would be easy to imagine Jago visiting with either Shenstone (who certainly visited and wrote about the Shepherds Monument in a letter of 1759) or with Jago’s close associate Sanderson Miller, a gentleman architect, who certainly worked at Shugborough in the 1750s and 1760s. Miller was an architect himself and also supervised the construction of buildings designed by others, including the Pagoda (and others) at Shugborough and Stuart’s Doric Temple at Hagley. He was very likely the builder of the almost identical Doric Temple at Shugborough and the later Stuart building that were under construction in the 1760s.
There are very good reasons, therefore, to suggest that Jago might have visited Shugborough with Shenstone, Lyttelton, or while in the neighbourhood of his wife’s family in Rugeley.
This is only a suggestion, of course, but compare a passage from the Shugborough poem with a passage from Jago’s “Edge-Hill” in praise of Sanderson Miller:
Cedar, or pine, or fir: plantations vast,
And venerable! not in curious lines
Restrained, & cramp’d, nor on the summits clump’d
Bleak, & unthrifty; but profusely spread
Along the mountain slope for many a mile
To shade a country. Such the groves that grace
The shaggy sides of APPENNINE, or huge
PIRENE. Underneath a limpid lake
The molten chrystal of an hundred rills
Gushing from purple CANK’S salubrious sides
Collects, expansion pure, with verdant isles
Inlaid it’s lucid bosom, & it’s shores
With marble temples, glittering structures , crowned,
His winding way, enlarging as it flows,
Nor hastes to join Sabrina’s prouder wave.
Like a tall rampart, here the mountain rears
Its verdant edge; and, if the tuneful maids
Their presence deign, shall with Parnassus vie.
Level and smooth the track which thither leads
Of champaign bold and fair. Its adverse side
Abrupt, and steep. Thanks, Miller’! to thy paths,
That ease our winding steps. Thanks to the fount,
The trees, the flowers, imparting to the sense
Fragrance or dulcet sound of murmuring rill,
And stilling every tumult in the breast!
And oft the stately towers that overtop
The rising wood, and oft the broken arch
Or mouldering wall, well taught to counterfeit
The waste of time, to solemn thought excite,
And crown with graceful pomp the shaggy hill.
So Virtue paints the steep ascent to fame.” (4)
A few words appear in both extracts: shaggy (used by Milton in Paradise Lost), rills, crowned.
The authorship could be proved if a sample of Jago’s handwriting could be found to match the manuscript, but in the meantime the case for Jago’s authorship is fairly convincing.
In the notes at the end of the poem the author, whoever it actually was, quotes (or more likely paraphrases from memory) Henry Fuseli’s 1765 translation of Winckelmann’s Reflections on the Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks )
Fuseli translating Winkelmann (1765):
Thus Raphael formed his Galatea, as we learn by his letter to Count Baltazar Castiglione where he says, ” Beauty being so seldom found among the fair, I avail myself of a certain ideal image.
(J J Winckelmann, translated by Henry Fuseli, Reflections on the Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks, 1765)
The 1767 Shugborough poem:
Raphael did the same in his letter to Count Balthazar Castiglione, speaking of his Galatea, he says “Perfect beauty being so seldom found, I avail myself of a certain Idëal image.
This does show a very up to the minute interest in Greek revival ideas which would have pleased Thomas Anson.
The poem as a whole gives a very detailed picture of the wonders of the estate as they appeared to a visitor when it was at its height, with most of Wright and Stuart’s improvements in place. The poet does, though, get a bit carried away –
Hence on the TRENT, SINËAN trophies shine:
Airy Pagodas, elegant & light,
With painted balustrades, & gilded spires;
And Temples, that like broad pavilions spread
Their ample roofs, with listed colours gay,
Green, azure, purple, & distinct with gold;
Here ‘mid circumfluous waters aptly placed
Cast a mixt radiance o’er the trembling stream.
This is presumably inspired by the Chinese House but what were all these multi-coloured temples?
The paintings at Shugborough included landscapes by Claude and Gaspard Poussin (Nicholas’s stepson). There is some doubt whether Thomas owned a genuine Nicholas Poussin, other than the small drawing of the Arcadian Shepherds which had originally belonged to Lady Anson. The advertisements for the sale of 15 St James’ Square, or Lichfield House as it was known by 1842, mention paintings by both N and G Poussin. Gaspard, though a minor artist, was popular for his classical landscapes which are far more loose and romantic than Nicholas’s. One of the Gaspars was striking enough to be engraved by an artist named Woolletts in 1764. There were a few religious paintings, including Susanna and The Elders, copied from Guido Reni. These large and very Roman Catholic subjects, particularly an “Immaculate Conception” must have been strangely dominating before the much grander Red Drawing Room was built.
The collection of sculpture, indoors and out, was more significant than the paintings.
The house and grounds were full of both genuine classical sculpture and modern copies. It is hard to imagine, now the gardens are quite bare, the effect of the many marble statues, herms and altars scattered about. A collection of letters from John Dick in Leghorn, dealing with the purchase of classical art, survives with letters from Stuart and the sculptor Scheemakers who was employed transporting, supplying and mending statuary as well as producing new work for Shugborough and 15 St James’ Square. In 1767 he sent Anson a bill, in his mixture of Dutch and English, which includes:
for two heds maid in to busts on pedestals 12.12.0
for sending a statue in a cart to the wagon an opnen 0.9.0
for packin a figure of Flora 0.7.0
for two men packing op sonderi tings 0.7.0
for mending brutus and four locks of hair to Adonis 1.0.0
payd for 8 heds from Rome 3.8.0
(Ingrid Roscoe, James “Athenian” Stuart and the Scheemakers Family, Apollo Vol. CXXVI September, pp178-184, 1999)
This reveals that Flora and Adonis were new additions to the Greenhouse when the anonymous poet saw them.
The bill also includes a chimney piece made for the back parlour by John Flaxman the Elder, father of the neo-classical artist:
for a ciminy pies in the back parlor slab & corns 35.14.0
Between 1765 and 1771 Thomas Anson bought pictures from Italy through Sir John Dick, British Consul at Leghorn and sculpture from Joseph Nollekens, who had been Scheemakers assistant, in Rome. The bill quoted above shows that Nollekens sent the works to Scheemakers, who then arranged their transport, by wagon, to Shugborough.
Nollekens wrote long detailed letters to Thomas, and competed for the purchase of all kinds of classical sculptures with cardinals and the Pope. He carved a statue of Castor and Pollux in the classical style, which, though modern, reached the highest price of any sculptures in the Shugborough sale and is now in the Victorian and Albert Museum. There is a copy in the hall at Shugborough.
Other statues included Flora and Adonis in the Green House, centaurs which were originally in the Tower of the Winds, a Thalia, muse of comedy, which Thomas Pennant thought particularly fine, Roman sarcophagi (which often have the “DM” inscription) and many other ancient and modern works.
A large quantity was bought from a bankrupt merchant in Leghorn, in 1766, including many medals, which were a particular interest of Anson’s. As the 1767 poem says of the library:
…Nor to books alone confined
Thy learned Archives: here whate’er remains
Of rare antiquity (or for design
Curious, or circumstance, or workmanship
Inimmitable) in Coins, or graven Gemms,
Camëo or Intaglio; sardonix,
Cenilean ophite, amethyst, the blood
Cornelian, & the jasper’s flowery vein.
Endless the task & the irksome to attempt
Particular discription, & the song
Already droops, tho’ gorgeous the detail.
Before setting off on his epic voyage with Captain Cook Joseph Banks (1743-1820) made a tour of England and Wales, visiting country estates and making notes of his observations in a journal which is now in the National Library of Wales. In 1768 Joseph Banks was a twenty-five year old gentleman naturalist but he was driven by an enthusiasm and adventurous spirit that would make him one of the leading figures in science in the 18th century. Through his friendship with Lord Sandwich (which later led him into the rakish activities of Francis Dashwood’s circle) Banks booked himself onto ‘the Endeavour’ as a self-funded naturalist.
He had other links with the Thomas Anson’s world. He corresponded with Anson’s friend Thomas Pennant, also a naturalist. Banks had plans to travel to Uppsala to hear the great classifier of nature, Carl Linnaeus, give lectures. Pennant mentioned in his correspondence that he was critical of Linnaeus’s classifications other those in his own field, botany. Botany, as well as agriculture, is an important theme in the Shugborough story. Benjamin Stillingfleet, one of Thomas’s closest friends in old age and a regular visitor to Shugborough, was one of Linnaeus’s strongest supporters in England, and also a correspondent of Pennant.
Banks was introduced to Shugborough, in late summer 1767, by another friend, John Sneyd of Bishton. Sneyd was one of the local gentry who would have regularly visited his near neighbour, Thomas Anson. While on the voyage of the Endeavour Banks lent Sneyd his own Herbarium.
Bank’s journal includes a description of an encounter with Thomas Anson at the statue of Adonis. This is another anecdote which records Thomas’s actual words:
…went with Mr Sneyd [of Bishton] to Mr Ansons about 4 miles off at a place call’d Shuckborough to see his architecture and marble both which are reported to be beyond any thing else in their kind. Find a large company to dine there and are forc’d to content ourselves for this day, with taking our dinners and resolving to return and see things properly the next day: by an accident however found the estimation in which every thing there was held by its master.
Stealing from the company after dinner I got a candle and was employd in examining his chief marble which was an Adonis in the interior. He passes by. I took the opportunity of complimenting him by saying “truly sir this is a most elegant piece of workmanship”
“Indeed it is, sir” said he, and shewing me the different parts of it “there’s a grace sir…Believe me the Venus of Medicis is clumsy to it.”
Having said this he retired and left me to my contemplations.
The figure is certainly a very elegant one tho I can not prize it so highly, as its master does. He is repesented not with the Chase, having just thrown a light robe over his shoulders to cool gradually. Probably the Game is suppos’d to lye at his feet as he rests himself upon one leg and seems to contemplate something lying before him with a look of satisfaction.
(Extracts from Joseph Banks’ Travel Journal. National Library of Wales.)
The 1767 poet describes the statues in the Orangery or Greenhouse, including Flora “first protectress of this place” (which still exists at Shugborough in a beheaded state), “the sculptured forms of Demigods or heroes” and also writes:
nor shall the learned eye deem here misplaced
A smooth Adonis, thy transcendent form.
The scholarly note at the end of the poem explains:
Adonis, Thammuz & Osiris are the Greek, Phenician & Egyptian names for the same person. His statue is not misplaced in a Green house because under all these denominations he is looked upon by the best Mythologists as the Power of Vegitation: particularly the Vegitation of corn: whence in the fable that six months he lieth in Prosepine’s lap, that is, whilst the seed of corn continueth underground; & the other six months, that is Spring & Summer he lieth with Venus.
This sculpture of Adonis seems to have been one which would have satisfied Winckelmann’s ideals of beauty, as would Nollekens’ Castor and Pollux.