[CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH]
In 1821, a young painter of brilliant promise was living in Bordeaux. His name was Raymond Bonheur. But the fairies who presided at his birth omitted to endow him with riches, in addition to talent. The hardships of existence compelled him to relinquish his dreams of glory and to pursue the irksome task of earning his daily bread. The artist became a drawing master and went the rounds of private lessons. Among his pupils he made the acquaintance of a young girl, Mlle. Sophie Marquis, as penniless as himself, but attractive and gentle, full of courage, and displaying exceptional ability in music. A similarity of tastes and opinions drew these two artistic natures toward each other. They fell in love, and the marriage service united their destinies.
The young couple started upon married life with no other fortune than their mutual attachment and equal courage. He continued to teach drawing and she gave lessons in music. But before long she was forced to put an end to these lessons in order to devote herself to new duties. Indeed, it was less than a year after their marriage, namely on the 16th of March, 1822, that a little girl was born into the world: this little girl was Rosalie Bonheur, better known under the name of Rosa Bonheur.
It is not surprising in such an artistic environment, that the child’s taste should have undergone a sort of obscure, yet undoubted impregnation. From the time that she began to understand, she heard art and nothing else discussed around her; her first uncertain steps were taken in her father’s studio, and her first playthings were a brush and a palette laden with colours.
PLATE II.—THE ASS
(Rosa Bonheur Studio, at By)
Rosa Bonheur was inimitable in the art of seizing the expression on the face of an animal. Here, for instance, is a study of an ass which makes quite a charming picture. Note the admirable rendering of the animal’s attitude, which is half obstinacy and half resignation, while the worn-out body weighs so heavily on the shrunken legs!
Rosalie could hardly walk before she was drawing and painting everywhere. Later on, she gave a spirited account of this:
“I was not yet four years old when I conceived a veritable passion for drawing, and I bespattered the white walls as high as I could reach with my shapeless daubs: another great source of amusement was to cut objects out of paper. They were always the same, however: I would begin by making long paper ribbons, then with my scissors, I would cut out, in the first place, a shepherd, and after him a dog, and next a cow, and next a ship, and next a tree, invariably in the same order. I have spent many a long day at this pastime.”