"P.S.—The zither still continues to be my dearest companion."
All this while he was gaining power, and whenever he had the good fortune to sell a picture he immediately "speculated" to the extent of going abroad for fresh study and experience.
The first picture of any importance that he exhibited in London was a large water colour—"Harvesters"—at the Dudley Gallery. It was a very clever work and fresh in style. We advised Mr. Strahan to buy it, which he did for forty pounds. Herkomer also made a full page drawing on wood from this picture for Good Words. On this success he went to Treport. It was at the time of the Franco-Prussian War; and here he painted a market scene called "Reading the News," which news was evidently adverse to the French. The groups of angry women and gloomy men tell the tale very clearly. When the people got to know he was of German origin, so great was their anger and hatred towards him that he was obliged to beat a speedy retreat for England; but not before he had finished a very clever and characteristic picture, which, with the exception of the colour, holds its own with much of his later work. Upon this he was invited to join the Royal Institute, from which he retired, and later in life became a member of the Royal Water Colour Society.
We were fortunate enough to become the owners of the picture immediately on his return.
It was after one of his successful visits to Bavaria that he built a small wooden studio in the back garden of his house in Smith Street, Chelsea, and there painted, in 1875, his large oil picture, "The Last Muster," a production that will always rank as one of the finest English works. Soon after this he was elected an Associate, and in due course a full Member of the Royal Academy of Arts, as well as receiving several Continental decorations. Subsequently he succeeded John Ruskin as Professor of Painting at Christ College, Oxford. But all this is too well known to be dwelt upon here. Our own personal experience of Herkomer is that he is as good and generous as he is clever, and that whatever service we were able to render him in the past has been recognised by him over and over again.
"This is a sweet place, ain't it? a lovely spot? and I wonder if they'd give two poor, foot-sore travellers, like me and you, a drop of fresh water out of such a pretty, genteel crib? We'd take it wery kind on 'em, wouldn't us? wery kind, upon my word, us would."
"Tramps."—Charles Dickens.
FROM "THE UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELLER."