“At the time of his engagement as draughtsman at the office not the slightest doubt was entertained of his skill and ability to fill his post, and it was the principal concern of Captain Benham to get him sufficiently interested in his work to engage his serious attention. It was, however, soon apparent that he considered topographical drawing as a tiresome drudgery, and when he was put on etching views on copper plate, this occupation, although more congenial to his tastes, was yet too monotonous and mechanical and did not afford sufficient scope to his peculiar talent for sketching off-hand figures and to make him feel contented. Any odd moment he could snatch from his work he was busy in throwing off his impromptu compositions on the margins of his drawings or plate; odd characters, such as monks, knights, beggars, seemed to be his favorites. He was equally skilful with pen and ink, pencil, brush and sepia after the Spanish style, or dry point in the English, and often I was struck by the facility and rapidity with which he evolved his inventions, there never was the shadow of a dilemma or even hesitancy.
“From the very start he never was punctual in attendance, and as time wore on he would absent himself for days and weeks without tendering any excuse. As far as I remember, nobody, except Captain Benham, cared to speak to Whistler about his irregularity, for the reason that it was certain that no thanks would be earned and that it would not have made the slightest difference in his habits. Howsoever that may have been, Colonel Porterfield, the clerk, was a strict accountant, and his monthly reports told the whole story. Thus in one month two days were deducted from Whistler’s pay for time lost in coming late to office, and in January, 1855, he was credited with but six and one-half days’ work, which reduced his scant pay to a mere pittance.
“Under these circumstances three months were quite sufficient length of time for Whistler and the office to realize that the employment of Whistler as a draughtsman was an experiment destined to be a failure, and I do not think that a trace of ill feeling was retained when it was concluded by both parties to effect a separation and let each one go his own way.”
At that time Edward de Stoeckl was charge d’affaires of the Russian embassy. He had known Major Whistler in St. Petersburg, and he took a great fancy to his son.
One day Whistler invited him to dinner, and this is the account of what happened:
“Whistler engaged a carriage and called for his distinguished friend. As they drove on, Whistler turned to the diplomat and asked him if he would object to their stopping at several places on the way. M. de Stoeckl, amused at the unconventionality of the request, assented, and his young host then directed the coachman to a greengrocer’s, a confectioner’s, a tobacconist’s, and to several other tradesmen.
“After visiting each of these he would reappear with his arms filled with packages, which he deposited on the vacant seat of the carriage. At last the two brought up at Whistler’s lodgings. After a climb up many stairs the representative of the Czar of all the Russias found himself in Whistler’s attic.
“Quite out of breath, he was obliged to sit down, too exhausted to speak, during which time Whistler flitted hither and thither, snipping a lettuce into shape for the salad, drying the oysters, browning the biscuit, preparing the cheese, and in an incredibly short time setting a sumptuous repast before his astonished guest, who was delighted with the unique hospitality of the host.”
A comrade in office describes Whistler’s appearance in those days:
“He was very handsome, graceful, dressed in good taste, with a leaning towards the style of the artist in the selection of his clothing. His hair was a blue-black and worn very long, and the bushy appearance seemed to give one the impression that each separate hair was curled. Always at this time he wore a large slouch hat and a loose coat, generally unbuttoned, and thrown back so that the waistcoat was plainly seen.”