In writing of it years later, Millet says: “My feelings were too great for words, and I closed my eyes lest I be dazzled by the sight, and then dared not open them lest I should find it all a dream. And if I ever reach Paradise I know my joy will be no greater than it was that first morning when I realized that I stood within the Louvre Palace.”
In the meantime he had found a room and place to board near by. The landlady having suggested that he had better not carry much money about with him, he immediately gave her all he had to keep for him; that was the last he saw of his money.
He spent a week just visiting the Louvre, and finally became acquainted with a student who was copying one of the paintings. This student took him to the artist Delaroche, who, after looking at his sketches, gladly admitted him as a pupil.
The other students were greatly amused at Millet’s awkward appearance and called him the “man of the woods.” It was almost impossible to persuade him to talk, and his answers to all questions were in monosyllables; but if pressed too hard he could use his fists effectively. They soon found out, too, that he could paint, and paint well. All idea of going home was given up, and Millet spent twelve years in Paris, enduring poverty and hunger but working faithfully and long. When he went back to his home for a visit he was so nearly starved that he fell fainting on the ground when he tried to work in the fields.
Millet painted landscapes, portraits, and signs, but fortune never seemed to smile on him long at a time. People said his pictures did not sell because he painted such common things and such poor people instead of choosing beautiful girls or fine gentlemen for his models.
But he painted the people he knew about and loved best—the French peasants—and as their lives were full of toil, he must represent them at their labor.
Returning to Paris, and finding his life there still one of continuous struggle with poverty, Millet with his wife and children went to live at Barbizon, a small village a day’s ride from Paris. Many descriptions have been written and pictures painted of the modest white stone cottage with its clinging vines and its thrifty gardens in which he spent the rest of his life.
It was not until the last few years of his life that he ceased to be wretchedly poor, for then at last his pictures were appreciated and he received the profit and honor that were his due.
He died at Barbizon, January 20, 1875.
Questions about the artist. Tell about Millet’s early training and the preparations made for his journey to Paris. How did he travel? Describe his first evening in Paris. How did he find the great gallery of the Louvre? Why did he not inquire the way? What became of his money? With whom did he study, and how did this happen? What did the other students call him? Why did they do this? How many years did he stay in Paris? What was his success there? Why did his pictures not sell? Where did he finally go to live? When were his paintings appreciated?