Desiring to be thoroughly acquainted with the anatomy of the ox, he bought one which had died at the farm, and had it boiled in parts till the flesh was separated from the bones, which were then exposed to dry in the sunshine. When thoroughly dried they were kept in the garret, and successively taken to the studio to serve for a series of drawings, of which I still possess several. As we had a goat, and sometimes kids, he also made numerous sketches from them, as well as from ducks, sheep and lambs, hens and chickens. There was also a Waterloo veteran who came weekly as a model, and who was painted in a monk's dress, which my husband used afterwards, and for a long time, as a dressing-gown.
This habit of sketching animals whenever he had a chance gave rise to some amusing incidents before our peasant neighbors knew that he "painted portraits of dumb beasts, as well as of Christians." Some farmers' wives, alarmed at the sight of odd pennies in the pockets of their offspring, accused them of pilfering, but on being told that the "gros sous" had been given them by "le père anglais," came to our house to ascertain how and why; for, unlike the people of the South, they would not have tolerated begging. They were quieted by the assurance that the money had been honestly earned by the children for holding their goat or donkey whilst its portrait was taken; nay, they even felt a little proud that an animal of theirs should have been thought worthy of such an honor.
Etching in all its forms was pursued at the same time with lithography and photography; even a new kind of transparent etching ground was invented by Mr. Hamerton, which made it possible for etchers to see the work already done upon a plate after having it grounded again for correction or additional work.
A strange incident occurred during this winter. My husband's rising reputation had, it appears, given to many people a desire for his personal acquaintance, or for intercourse by correspondence. The first desire brought him many unexpected visitors, the second quite an appreciable increase of work, as he hardly ever left a letter unanswered. To give the reader an instance of the extraordinary notions entertained by some people, I shall relate the true history of one visitor amongst others. Some letters at short intervals, from England, signed—let us say—Beamish, mentioned a mysterious project which could not possibly be explained otherwise than by word of mouth, and which might be both profitable and agreeable to Mr. Hamerton, if realized. He was asked to call upon the correspondent for an explanation if he should happen to go to London soon; if not, Mr. Beamish begged leave to come over and see him. Of course the leave was given, and the gentleman having written that on such a day he would be at such an hotel in Autun, Gilbert went to fetch him in the pony-carriage—for Dort-debout had tired out our patience, and had been replaced by a beautiful and energetic little pony called Cocote.
When we met Mr. Beamish, we found him a most prepossessing young man, of elegant manners and refined speech; in short, a gentleman. He begged me to allow his portmanteau to be placed in the carriage; and as I observed that he was not expected to dress for our family dinner, he answered that it only contained papers that he should want.
Two other friends, understanding English, joined us at dinner. The conversation was animated, but Mr. Beamish never hinted at the mysterious project. In the evening, engravings and etchings were shown to our guest, but failed to excite his interest, for he soon fell asleep on the sofa, and let our friends go without awaking. Unwilling to disturb him, we remained till nearly one o'clock, when I decided to retire, whatever happened afterwards; and I was so tired that after going to bed I never awoke till morning, when I asked my husband at what time Mr. Beamish had gone. "Gone," he answered; "why, I don't know that he has gone at all, for I left him after three, just where he was." I hardly dared peep into the drawing-room; however, it was empty; but when the breakfast-bell was rung, Mr. Beamish came in unconcernedly to have his share of the simple meal, during which he talked pleasantly and intelligently of his experiences in India, where he had spent the greater part of eighteen years. Nothing was said of the project, and after vainly waiting for some mention of it, my husband returned to his study, after letting Mr. Beamish know that he was not to be disturbed till eleven o'clock, for it was the time of his morning work. "Very well," answered our guest; "meanwhile I shall put my books and papers in order." At the same time he requested me to send rather a large table into the room where he had slept (it was the room in which his portmanteau had been put), and to tell the servants to be careful not to interfere in any way with what he would leave upon it, not even to dust, so long as he remained with us. I then believed that Gilbert had invited him to stay some time, but I was undeceived in the course of the day, and told that the mysterious project had been unfolded at last, and was a proposition that he should undertake a journey to Palestine in the company of Mr. Beamish, to join Holman Hunt, who was painting studies in the Holy Land. "But what made you think I was ready to undertake such a pilgrimage?" Mr. Hamerton had asked in great astonishment. "Because I read that you liked camping out," was the reply; "and thought also that, being an artist, you would be glad to meet with Holman Hunt, who, like you in the Highlands, works directly from nature. I thought, moreover, that, as I intend to go myself, you would be agreeable and profitable society."
Although my husband had declined to give the slightest consideration to this plan, Mr. Beamish still remained, and vaguely hinted that a still more mysterious project detained him at Autun.
He went on foot, alone, to the college, on three successive afternoons, begged to see our boys, and tipped them so generously that the principal thought it his duty to ask their father whether he had authorized these visits—clearly implying that he doubted the soundness of the visitor's mind.
We had learned in the course of conversation that our guest was of a benevolent and charitable disposition, and that he had spent much money in India in founding hospital-beds for poor women, whose sufferings he warmly compassionated. He was also full of sympathy for the Indian people, and spoke of their wrongs not without a certain degree of excitement, but still in a manner to arouse our interest. Altogether, although he was a self-imposed guest, we had already learned to like him, and were unwilling to remind him, with ever so little rudeness, that he was in the way. My husband said that his conduct might be explained by the fact that he had lived so long in India, where the dwellings of Europeans are often at great distances from each other, and where a visitor is always made at home and welcome; that Mr. Beamish was only acting as he had been accustomed to do for the greater part of his life, for he was still a young man of about thirty-six.
After about a week's stay, he began to talk of leaving us within a short time, but did not say when—that would depend on certain circumstances. However, on a bitterly cold evening, with the snow deep on the ground, he requested to be driven to Autun, and took a friendly leave of us all without explanation. But the principal of the college related the following strange story to Mr. Hamerton:—