"Well, I'm prepared to bring you a father, mother, and only daughter."
"All for me?"
"Yes--they want their portraits taken. These bourgeois--they are crazy
about art--have never dared to enter a
studio. The girl has a 'dot' of
a hundred thousand francs. You can paint all three,--perhaps they'll
turn out family portraits."
And with that the old Dutch log of wood who passed for a man and who
was called Elie Magus, interrupted himself to laugh an
uncanny laugh
which frightened the
painter. He fancied he heard Mephistopheles
talking marriage.
"Portraits bring five hundred francs
apiece," went on Elie; "so you
can very well afford to paint me three pictures."
"True for you!" cried Fougeres, gleefully.
"And if you marry the girl, you won't forget me."
"Marry! I?" cried Pierre Grassou,--"I, who have a habit of sleeping
alone; and get up at cock-crow, and all my life arranged--"
"One hundred thousand francs," said Magus, "and a quiet girl, full of
golden tones, as you call 'em, like a Titian."
"What class of people are they?"
"Retired merchants; just now in love with art; have a country-house at
Ville d'Avray, and ten or twelve thousand francs a year."
"What business did they do?"
"Bottles."
"Now don't say that word; it makes me think of corks and sets my teeth
on edge."
"Am I to bring them?"
"Three portraits--I could put them in the Salon; I might go in for
portrait-
painting. Well, yes!"
Old Elie descended the
staircase to go in search of the Vervelle
family. To know to what extend this
proposition would act upon the
painter, and what effect would be produced upon him by the Sieur and
Dame Vervelle, adorned by their only daughter, it is necessary to cast
an eye on the anterior life of Pierre Grassou of Fougeres.
When a pupil, Fougeres had
studieddrawing with Servin, who was
thought a great draughtsman in
academic circles. After that he went to
Schinner's, to learn the secrets of the powerful and
magnificent color
which distinguishes that master. Master and scholars were all
discreet; at any rate Pierre discovered none of their secrets. From
there he went to Sommervieux' atelier, to
acquire that
portion of the
art of
painting which is called
composition, but
composition was shy
and distant to him. Then he tried to
snatch from Decamps and Granet
the
mystery of their
interior effects. The two masters were not
robbed. Finally Fougeres ended his education with Duval-Lecamus.
During these
studied and these different transformations Fougeres'
habits and ways of life were
tranquil and moral to a degree that
furnished matter of jesting to the various ateliers where he
sojourned; but everywhere he disarmed his comrades by his
modesty and
by the
patience and
gentleness of a lamblike nature. The masters,
however, had no
sympathy for the good lad; masters prefer bright
fellows,
eccentric spirits, droll or fiery, or else
gloomy and deeply
reflective, which argue future
talent. Everything about Pierre Grassou
smacked of mediocrity. His
nickname "Fougeres" (that of the
painter in
the play of "The Eglantine") was the source of much teasing; but, by
force of circumstances, he accepted the name of the town in which he
had first seen light.
Grassou of Fougeres
resembled his name. Plump and of
mediumheight, he
had a dull
complexion, brown eyes, black hair, a turned-up nose,
rather wide mouth, and long ears. His gentle,
passive, and resigned
air gave a certain
relief to these leading features of a physiognomy
that was full of health, but
wanting in action. This young man, born
to be a
virtuous bourgeois, having left his native place and come to
Paris to be clerk with a color-merchant (formerly of Mayenne and a
distant
connection of the Orgemonts) made himself a
painter simply by
the fact of an
obstinacy which constitutes the Breton
character. What
he suffered, the manner in which he lived during those years of study,
God only knows. He suffered as much as great men suffer when they are
hounded by
poverty and hunted like wild beasts by the pack of
commonplace minds and by troops of vanities athirst for vengeance.
As soon as he thought himself able to fly on his own wings, Fougeres
took a
studio in the upper part of the rue des Martyrs, where he began
to delve his way. He made his first appearance in 1819. The first
picture he presented to the jury of the Exhibition at the Louvre