My sister, Caroline Pelletier, had now come to Pre-Charmoy with her baby-daughter, to escape from the drought prevailing at Algiers, and her presence was a great pleasure to my recluse. She often read to him to keep up her English, and accompanied him in his drives when I was prevented, aware that he did not much like to venture away alone since he had been ill. At his request she had brought an Algerian necklace and bracelets made of hardened paste of roses, which were intended for Aunt Susan, who had greatly liked the odor of mine, and who acknowledged the little present in a very cordial letter.
My younger brother Frederic was at that moment very ill with typhoid fever, and I had asked my husband to let me go to help my mother in nursing him; however, with greater wisdom and firmness he refused his leave, and made me understand my duty to our children. "If you brought back to them the germs of disease, and if they died of it, you never would forgive yourself," he said. But after the fatal ending he allowed me to attend the funeral, on condition that I should not enter the house, but come back directly after the painful duty was accomplished.
At the same time, he kindly invited my mother to come to us, after taking all necessary precautions against the danger of bringing infection to her grandchildren.
The society of M. Pelletier, who used to follow his wife to Pre-Charmoy as soon as he was free, proved quite a boon to Gilbert in his solitude, and a solid friendship was soon formed between the two brothers-in-law.
M. Pelletier"s mind was inquisitive and receptive; he had read much, and in the family circle we called him our "Encyclopedia." He made it his duty and pleasure to clear up any obscure point which might embarra.s.s any of us, and often undertook long researches to spare my husband"s time. They regularly sat up together long after the other inmates of the house had gone to their rest, talking and smoking, or walking out in the refreshing breeze of the summer night.
My brother Charles also joined us at times, and, being a capital swimmer, taught his nephews all sorts of wonderful aquatic feats. We all went daily to the pond at Varolles, and though the men and boys were all proficient in swimming, Charles astonished them by taking a header, preceded by a double somersault, from the top of the wall, and kindling thereby a jealous desire to rival him, so that in a very short time my husband, who hitherto had remained but an indifferent performer, now trod the water, read aloud, or smoked in it, with the greatest ease. It was very good exercise for him.
For some time past Mr. Hamerton"s reputation had been growing in America, but he did not derive the slightest profit from the sale of his books there till Messrs. Roberts Brothers, of Boston, proposed to pay him a royalty upon the works that should be published by them in advance of pirated editions. This offer was accepted with pleasure and grat.i.tude, and the pecuniary result, though not very important, proved a timely help. Moreover, Roberts Brothers admired Mr. Hamerton"s talent, and in very flattering terms acknowledged it, besides doing much for the spread of his reputation in America.
In the autumn, bad news of Aunt Susan"s health reached Pre-Charmoy. The reports soon became alarming, and her nephew was made very miserable by the impossibility of going to her bedside. When we had taken leave of each other at Kew, she was very despondent on account of my husband"s illness, and expressed a fear that she might die without our being near her. No one could say when the taboo on railway travelling could be withdrawn for him, but I gave our aunt a solemn promise that in such an emergency as she mentioned, I at any rate would go to her when she called me, and Gilbert had ratified the engagement. From her letters it was easy to see that she wished very much for my companionship and nursing, being very low in spirits and feeble in body, yet she was reluctant to ask, with the knowledge that her nephew also frequently required my care. At last we agreed that the proposal should come from us, my husband, as usual, sacrificing his own comfort to the claims of affection. The offer was gratefully accepted.
As I had never travelled much alone, and am entirely dest.i.tute of the gift of topography, it was not without misgivings that my husband saw me off; but he had taken the trouble of writing down for my guidance the minutest directions, and though he told his uncle that he should not be astonished to hear that I had turned up in New York, I reached London safely.
He was very lonely at Pre-Charmoy, with only his little girl and a maid, the boys being at college, but he frequently went to dine there with the princ.i.p.al, M. Schmitt, from whom he needed no invitation, and who always made him welcome. He was also cheered by my letters, which told him of his aunt"s rapid improvement in health and strength. We went out together upon the hills as often as the weather allowed, and when threatened with an attack of nervous dizziness--which she dreaded unspeakably--she derived confidence from my apparent composure, and tided over it when I firmly grasped her round the waist, and made her take a few steps in the keener and purer air of the garden. When our aunt was restored to her usual state of health, rather more than a month after my arrival, I took leave of my kind relatives loaded with presents for every one of the children, and even for their parents. Of course I wished to spend Christmas at home, and I arrived just in time to realize my wish. Gilbert had come to meet me at the station, and as soon as we had exchanged greetings and news he began to tell of a plan for an artistic periodical which had mainly occupied his thoughts during my absence. As we were driving home he entered into all the details of the scheme as he conceived it, and said he believed he might undertake the management of such a periodical, even where he was situated, if Mr.
Seeley gave his valuable help. He was full of the idea, and his thoughts were continually reverting to it.
CHAPTER X
1869-1870.
"Wenderholme."--The Mont Bouvray,--Botanical Studies--La Tuilerie.
--Commencement of the "Portfolio."--The Franco-German War.
The uncertainty of finding sufficient literary work after the resignation of his post on the "Sat.u.r.day Review" had been a cause of great anxiety to Mr. Hamerton, though he had enough on hand at that time, but he wondered very much if it would last. He wrote for the "Globe" regularly; for the "Sat.u.r.day Review," "Pall Mall Gazette," and "Atlantic Monthly" occasionally, though he had a great dislike for anonymous writing, as he bestowed as much care and labor upon it as if it could have added to his reputation. He worked with greater pleasure and some antic.i.p.ation of success at his novel of "Wenderholme," the first volume of which had been sent to Mr. Blackwood, who agreed to give 200 for the copyright. Here are some pa.s.sages from his letter, which of course was very welcome. After a few criticisms:--
"The narrative is natural and taking. Your description of the drunken habits of Shayton are _excellent_, and not a bit overdone. It reminds me of a joke of Aytoun"s when there was a report of an earthquake at a village in Scotland notorious for its convivial habits. He remarked, "Nonsense; the whole inhabitants are in a chronic state of D. T. that would have shaken down the walls of Jericho."
"The picture of poor Isaac"s struggles and his final break-down at his own home is very well done, and so is that of his old mother, with her narrow fat forehead.
"I particularly like Colonel Stanburne. He _is_ like a gentleman, and I hope he has a great deal to do in the remaining part of the story.
Little Jacob is very nice, and promises to make a good hero.
"The style is throughout pleasant and graceful. I shall look anxiously for vols. 2 and 3, but I feel confident that you will not write anything unkind or inconsistent with good taste."
Encouraged by the favorable opinion of Mr. Blackwood, the author went on as diligently with the novel as his health allowed. From time to time I find in his diary, "too unwell to work," or "obliged to rest," or "not well enough to write." Still, he was remarkably free from bodily pain, as it is generally felt and understood; he never complained of aches or sickness, and to any ordinary observer he looked vigorous and unusually healthy; but from me, accustomed to scrutinize the most transient expression of his face and countenance, he could not hide the slightest symptoms of nervousness, were it merely the bending forward of the body, the steady gaze or unwonted cold brightness of the eyes. Whenever I detected any of these threatening signs at home, I begged him to leave work and to go out, and if we happened to be in an exhibition or any crowded place, we had to resort to some secluded spot in a public garden--to the parks if we were in London; and I believe it must be on account of the repeated anguish I suffered there that I never wished to visit them for my pleasure: those horribly painful hours have deprived them of all charm for me. What my husband had to bear was a terrible apprehension of something fearful,--he did not know what,--now increasing, as if a fatal end were inevitable; now decreasing, only to return--ah! how many times?--till sometimes only after hours of strife, and sometimes suddenly, it left him calm but always weakened. At the very time that he was most frequently subject to these attacks, the American papers were giving numerous notices of his works, and brief biographies in which he was invariably presented to the public as an athlete in possession of the most robust health.
The doctors agreed in saying that this disorder was only nervous, and not the result of any known disease; that the only remedy lay in rest for the brain, and active exercise for the body in the open air. But it was indeed difficult to give rest to a mind incessantly thirsting for knowledge, and finding an inexhaustible mine of interest in the most trivial events, in the simplest natures and the monotonous existence of the rustics, as well as in the philosophy of Auguste Comte and John Stuart Mill, or in the aesthetics of Ruskin and Charles Blanc. It was a mind which turned all that came in its way into the gold of knowledge, and which spent it generously afterwards, not only in his writings, but in familiar conversations; his friends used to say that they always gained something when with him, on account of the natural elevation of mind which made him treat all questions intellectually. He had no taste for sport or amus.e.m.e.nts or games, with the exception of boating and chess; but chess-playing can hardly be called mental rest, and boating is not always practicable, requiring several hours each time it is indulged in, particularly when one is not close to a lake or river.
Riding Cocote was a pleasant relaxation to her master, as she was a spirited little creature, and the two often went together to the Mont Beuvray (the site of the ancient Bibracte of the Gauls), to find the learned and venerable President of the Societe Eduenne busy with his researches among the ruins, but nevertheless always ready to receive them hospitably. The use of one of his huts was given to his young friend, and his four-footed companion was turned loose to browse on the fine, short gra.s.s which grew thickly under the shade of the n.o.ble oaks and chestnut trees of the mountain.
On these occasions, a valise containing sketching material and books was strapped on behind the rider, on the horse"s back; at other times, when I accompanied my husband, we went in a light cart, which was left with Cocote at a farmhouse about half-way up the hill.
My husband liked me to read to him whilst he sketched, and I see by his diary of 1869 that some of the works he listened to in the course of that year were: "Les Couleuvres," by Louis Veuillot; Victor Jacquemond"s "Voyage en Italie;" "l"Art en Hollande," and "La Litterature Anglaise,"
by Taine "Le Postscriptum;" George Eliot"s "Silas Marner;" Sidney Colvin"s "Academy Notes;" Tennyson"s "In Memoriam;" Legouve"s "l"Art de la lecture;" "Chateaubriand et son groupe litteraire," "Beranger et de Senancourt," by Sainte-Beuve, whose talent as a critic he greatly admired.
The rambles and drives which he took in quest of picturesque subjects inclined him to botanical studies, and he began to form a herbarium; the search for plants gave a zest to the long walks recommended by the doctors, which might have become tedious had they been aimless. The prettiest or most remarkable of these plants were sketched or painted before being dried, to be used in the foregrounds of pictures. Gilbert"s mind was also inventive; the reader may have remarked in the autobiography that he had made various models of double-boats, the principle of which he wished to see more generally adopted on account of their safety; but in 1869 it was not with boats that this faculty of invention was busy,--it was with a plan for a carriage which would meet our requirements. The little donkey-cart was so rickety now that it had become unsafe, and the carriage-builders could not show anything sufficiently convenient of a size and weight to suit Cocote. The elegant curves above the fore-wheels reduced the stowage room to a mere nothing, and we required plenty of s.p.a.ce to carry, safely protected from rain and dust, many things--amongst them change of garments when we went to Autun for a wedding, a funeral, or a soiree, and plenty of wraps for the drive back in the cold or mist of midnight. A good deal of room was also wanted for the provisions regularly fetched from the town,--grocery, ironmongery, etc. My husband succeeded in contriving a carriage perfectly answering our wants: it was four-wheeled, and provided with a double seat covering a roomy well; there was also a considerable s.p.a.ce behind to receive bundles and parcels, or at will a small removable seat. Six persons could thus ride comfortably in the carriage, and as we were expecting a visit from Mr. T. Hamerton and his sister, we wished very much to have it ready for their use.
With the tender thoughtfulness which characterized my husband, he had contrived a low step and a door at the back part of the carriage to allow an aged person, like his aunt or my mother, to get inside with ease and safety, and to get out quite as easily in case of danger.
They arrived in the middle of July, and spent a month with us. They were both in very good health, and Aunt Susan, in spite of her seventy years, rivalled her little grand-niece with the skipping-rope. She wrote afterwards from West Lodge on August 20:--
"MY DEAR NEPHEW AND NIECE,--We arrived at home all safe and well at five o"clock on Monday to tea, and to-day it is a week since we left your most kind and hospitable entertainment, and I can a.s.sure you a most true, heartfelt pleasure and gratification it has been to me to spend a month with you, for which you must accept our best thanks for your kindly studied attentions and exertions to make our visit pleasant. I am sure I am much better for my journey; I feel strong and more vigorous; the drives in the little carriage were no doubt the very thing that would conduce to my getting strong, as I had then fresh air and exercise without fatigue. [There follows a description of the journey, according to a careful itinerary prepared by her nephew.] How is little Lala, lal, a, lala? [her little niece, who was always singing]. We often talk of her interesting ways and doings, and I often wish I could give other English lessons to my nephews. I think we should have made some progress, as both sides seemed interested in their business."
Shortly after the departure of his relatives, Mr. Hamerton was informed by his landlord that he would have to leave the little house and garden and stream he liked so well, because it was now the intention of the proprietor to come to it with his family to spend the vacations. He was offered, instead, another house on the same estate, called "La Tuilerie," larger and more convenient, but a thoroughly _ba.n.a.le maison bourgeoise_, devoid of charm and picturesqueness, close to the main road, and without a garden; moreover, in an inconceivable state of dirtiness and dilapidation. I felt horror-struck at the notion of removing to such a place; however, I was at last obliged to submit to fate. My husband, though very disinclined to a move, thought that since it could not be avoided, it was as well to make it as easy, cheap, and rapid as possible. He could not afford to lose time, and his health prohibited long travels in search of a new abode, since he could not make use of railways. We went as far in the neighborhood of Pre-Charmoy as Cocote could take us in a day in different directions, but found nothing suitable, probably because we did not wish to be at a distance from the college, which would prevent the boys from coming home as they had been accustomed to do.
The greater s.p.a.ce and conveniences offered at La Tuilerie were a temptation to my husband. We had, besides two entrances, a large dining-room, drawing-room, kitchen, six bedrooms, lots of closets, cupboards, dressing-rooms, and an immense garret all over the first floor, well lighted by two windows, and paved with bricks. In the extensive courtyard was a set of out-buildings, consisting of a gardener"s cottage, cartshed, and stable for six horses; and as on the ground belonging to the house there had formerly existed a tile-kiln (_tuilerie_) with drying sheds, there was ample s.p.a.ce for a garden after removing the rubbish which still covered it.
The fact is that circ.u.mstances allowed of no choice, and we had to resign ourselves to the inevitable. Gilbert saw at once that with a certain outlay and a great deal of ingenuity he could make La Tuilerie not only tolerable, but even convenient and pleasant--though I doubted it--and he explained how the outbuilding might be used as laundry, laboratory, and carpenter"s shop--there being three rooms of different sizes in it; and what a gain it would be so to have all the dirty work done outside the house. Another attraction was the good views from all the windows; that of the Beuvray, with the plain leading to it; the amphitheatre of Autun, with the intervening wood of n.o.ble trees, and beyond it the temple of Ja.n.u.s; the range of the Morvan hills, the fields of golden wheat and waving corn, and the pastures which looked like mysterious lakes in the moonlight when the white mist rose from the marshes and spread all over their surface--endlessly as it seemed. He promised me to plan out a garden, and there being several fine trees about the kiln and on the border of the road--oaks, elders, elms, and spindle trees--he said he would contrive to keep them all, so as to have shade from the beginning, and to give the new garden an appearance of respectable antiquity.
The workmen were set at once to their task of repairing, painting, and papering, and though my husband deprecated both the time spent on supervision and the unavoidable expense (for the landlord, under pretext that the rent was low, refused to contribute to the repairs, which he called _ameliorations_), was unmistakably elated by the prospect of having the use of a more s.p.a.cious dwelling; for he very easily suffered from a feeling of confinement, and tried to get rid of it by having two small huts which could be moved about to different parts of the estate according to his convenience, and to which he resorted when so inclined.
Even when they were not used, it was for him a satisfaction to know that he had in readiness a refuge away from the house whenever he chose to seek it. This dislike to confinement was betrayed unconsciously when he sat down to his meals by his first movement, which pushed aside whatever seemed _too near_ his plate--gla.s.s, wine-bottle, salt-cellars, etc. I remember that he would not use the public baths in France, because the cabins are small and generally locked on the outside. It was therefore a great pleasure to devise stands and cupboards and shelves in the large room which was to be his laboratory, and which he adorned with a cheap frieze of white paper with gilt edges, and "Lose no Time" in black-and-red letters, repeated upon each of the four walls, so as not to escape notice whichever way you turned.
The carpenter"s shop also had its due share of attention, and was well provided with labelled boxes of all dimensions for nails, screws, etc., whilst a roomy closet, opening into the studio, was fitted up with a piece of furniture specially designed to receive the different-sized portfolios containing engravings, etchings, and studies of all kinds, together with a lot of pigeon-holes to keep small things separate and in order. All this was done at home, under his direction, and he has let his readers into the secret of his taste when he wrote in "Wenderholme": "For the present we must leave him (Captain Eureton) in the tranquil happiness of devising desks and pigeon-holes with Mr. Bettison, an intelligent joiner at Sooty thorn, _than which few occupations can be more delightful._" About the pigeon-holes, a friend of my husband once made a discovery which he declared astounding. "I well knew that Mr.
Hamerton was a model of order," he said to me; "but I only knew to what extent when, having to seek for string, I was directed to these pigeon-holes. I easily found the one labelled "String," but what it contained was too coa.r.s.e for my purpose. "Look above," said Mr.
Hamerton. I did, and sure enough I saw another label with "String (thin)." I thought it wonderful."
Yes, Gilbert _loved_ order, and strove to keep it; but as it generally happened that he had to do many things in a hurry (catching the post, for instance), he could not always find time to replace what he had used. When this had gone on so as to produce real disorder, he gave a day to restoring each item to its proper place--this happened generally after a long search for a mislaid paper, the finding of which evoked the oft-repeated confession, "I love Order better than she loves me, as Byron said of Wisdom."
The correspondence relating to the foundation of the "Portfolio" was now very heavy; everything had to be decided between Mr. Seeley and Mr.
Hamerton; suitable contributors had to be found, subjects discussed, ill.u.s.trations chosen. The only English art magazine of that day confined its ill.u.s.trations to line engravings and woodcuts, and its plates were almost always engraved from pictures or statues. It was intended that the "Portfolio" should make use of all new methods of ill.u.s.tration, and should publish drawings and studies as well as finished works. But it was the dearest wish of the editor that the revived art of Etching should receive due appreciation in England, and that, with this object, etched plates should be made a feature of the new magazine.
The contents of the first volume will best show the plan, which was quite unlike that of any existing periodical. A series of articles on "English Artists of the Present Day" was contributed by Mr. Sidney Colvin, Mr. W. M. Rossetti, Mr. Tom Taylor, Mr. Beavington Atkinson, and the editor. These were ill.u.s.trated by drawings most willingly lent by Mr. G. F. Watts, Mr. Poynter, Sir E. Burne-Jones, Mr. Calderon, Mr. H.
S. Marks, Mr. G. D. Leslie, and other painters; and by paintings by Lord Leighton, Mr. Armitage, and Mr. A. P. Newton. The reproductions were made by the autotype (or carbon) process of photography, which was then coming into high estimation as a means of making permanent copies of works by the great masters. Every copy of these ill.u.s.trations was printed by light, a process only possible in the infancy of a magazine which could count at first on the interest of but a small circle, and had to form its own public. The editor contributed a series of papers, ent.i.tled "The Unknown River," ill.u.s.trated by small etchings by his own hand. These were printed on India paper, and mounted in the text, another process only possible in a magazine addressed to a few. The first volume also contained a very fine etching by M. Legros, and others by Cucinotta and Grenaud. Articles were contributed by Mr. F. T.
Palgrave, Mr. Watkiss Lloyd, Mr. G. A. Simc.o.x, and Mrs. Mark Pattison (Lady Dilke). A paper on "A New Palette" of nine colors was the forerunner of the elaborate "Technical Notes" of later years. The imposing size of the new magazine, its bold type, fine, thick paper, and wide margins were much admired, and prepared the way for the many editions _de luxe_ issued in England in the next quarter of the century.
In the second year the slow autotype process had to be abandoned for the quicker Woodburytype, by which were reproduced drawings kindly contributed by Sir J. E. Millais, Sir John Gilbert, Mr. Holman Hunt, Mr.
Woolner, Mr. G. Mason, Mr. Hook, and others. The editor commenced a series of "Chapters on Animals," ill.u.s.trated with etchings by Veyra.s.sat.
Other etchings by M. Martial, Mr. Chattock, Mr. J. P. Heseltine, and Mr.
Lumsden Propert appeared. Mr. Basil Champneys, Mr. W. B. Scott, and Mr.
F. G. Stephens contributed articles.
In the third year a series of "Examples of Modern Etching" was made the chief feature. It included plates by M. L. Flameng, Sir F. Seymour Haden, M. Legros, M. Bracquemond, M. Lalanne, M. Rajon, M. Veyra.s.sat, and Mr. S. Palmer. The editor wrote a note upon each, and had now the pleasure of seeing one of his objects accomplished, and the public appreciation of his favorite art extending every day.
In subsequent years the various methods of photo-engraving were employed instead of the carbon processes of photography, and the "Portfolio" was one of the first English periodicals to give reproductions of pen-drawings.
Several of M. Amand-Durand"s admirable facsimiles of etchings and engravings by the old masters adorned its pages. In 1873 appeared one of Mr. R. L. Stevenson"s first contributions to literature,--if not his first,--a paper on "Roads," signed "L. S. Stoneven." This was followed by other articles in the years 1874, 1875, and 1878, bearing his own name.
The fear of running short of work was not realized; on the contrary, my husband had always too much on his hands; for he dreaded hurry, and would have liked to bestow upon each of his works as much time as he thought necessary, not only for its completion, but also for its preparation, and that was often considerable, because he could not slight a thing. When he was writing for the "Globe" he polished his articles as much as a book destined to last; he always respected his work, and the care given to it bore no relation to the price it was to fetch. He often expressed a wish that he might labor like the monks in the Middle Ages, without being disturbed by mercenary considerations; that simple shelter, food, and raiment should be provided for himself and for those dependent upon him--he did not foresee any other wants--so that he might devote the whole of his mental energy to subjects worthy of it. But I used to answer that if he had such liberty he never would publish anything; for whenever he sent MS. to the printer it was inevitably with regret at not being able to keep it longer for improvement. Still, the second volume of "Wenderholme" had been sent to Mr. Blackwood, who wrote on Sept. 24, 1869:--
"There is no doubt that I liked vol. 2 very much. The story is told in a simple, matter-of-fact way, which is very effective, by giving an air of truth to the narrative.