FARNHAM ROYAL, BUCKS.
During the summers of 1872, 1873, and 1874, Caldecott stayed often at a
cottage belonging to the writer, three miles north of Slough, in
Buckinghamshire, in the picturesque neighbourhood of Stoke Pogis and
Burnham Beeches.
A "loose box" adjoining the stable--a few yards to the right of the
little verandah in the above sketch--had been fitted up for him by
friendly hands; and it was here in this temporary studio, in the quiet
of the country, looking out on woods and fields, that he made many of
the drawings for _Old Christmas_.
Several entries in Caldecott's diary in 1874 mention that in June and
July he was "working in the 'loose box' at Farnham Royal, on the
_Sketch Book_."
Those were happy, irresponsible days, before great success had tempered
his style, or brought with it many cares. Take the following letter
(one of many) written in the full enjoyment of the change from lodgings
in London:--
[Illustration: The Cottage. Farnham Royal. in Slough. 26 June 1874.]
"We are passing a calm and peaceful existence here and were
therefore somewhat startled the other day, when Sharp asked
for the cart and donkey to take to the common for the
purpose of bringing us a few Sultanas. We stroked our
beards, but as Sharp seemed bent upon the affair reluctantly
consented."
[The boy Sharp attended to the wants of Caldecott and his friend L.,
and wanted to make a pudding. The end of the letter is reproduced in
facsimile.]
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE PADDOCK, FARNHAM ROYAL.]
The illustration on the last page is a copy of a water-colour sketch
made from "the loose box" at Farnham Royal. It depicts the arrival of a
pony at the cottage and consequent disgust of the donkey at the
intrusion. The old man--who combined the various offices of gardener,
groom, and parish clerk--stood unconsciously as a model for several
drawings in _Old Christmas_.
From Farnham Royal he writes at another time to a friend:--
"We are fast drifting into a vortex of dissipation--eddying
round a whirlpool of gaiety; but I hope that through all,
our heads will keep clear enough to guide the helms of our
hearts."
About this time it was suggested to Caldecott to make studies of
animals and birds, with a view to an illustrated edition of _Æsop's
Fables_, a work for which his talents seemed eminently fitted. The idea
was put aside from press of work, and when finally brought out in 1883
was not the success that had been anticipated. This was principally
owing to the plan of the book.
[Illustration: "STUDYING FROM NATURE."]
As Caldecott's _Æsop_ was often talked over with the writer in early
days, a few words may be appropriate here. Caldecott yielded to a
suggestion of Mr. J. D. Cooper, the engraver, to attach to each fable
what were to be styled "Modern Instances," consisting of scenes, social
or political, as an "application." Humorous as these were, in the
artist's best vein of satire, the combination was felt to be an
artistic mistake. That Caldecott was aware of this, almost from the
first, is evident from a few words in a letter to an intimate friend
where he says:--
"Do not expect much from this book. When I see proofs of it
I wonder and regret that I did not approach the subject more
seriously."
Circumstances of health also in later years interfered with the
completion of what might have been his _chef d'oeuvre_.
[Illustration]
In the following letter to a friend in Manchester (headed with the
above sketch) he refers modestly to his drawings for _Old Christmas_,
on which he was now busily engaged.
[Illustration: ART IS LONG, LIFE IS SHORT.]
"My dear ----,--It is so long since I have heard from you
that I have concluded that you must be very flourishing in
every way. No news being good news, and no news lasting for
so long a time, you must have a quiver full of good things.
How is ----? The woods of Dunham? The gaol of
Knutsford?--the vale of Knutsford, I mean. A fortnight ago,
when all the ability were leaving town, I returned from a
six weeks' pleasant sojourn in Bucks, at Farnham Royal. I
was hard at work all the time, for I have been very much
occupied of late, you will be glad to hear, I know. In
process of time, and if successful, I will tell you upon
what. I wish I had had a severe training for my present
profession. Eating my dinners, so to speak. I have now got a
workshop, and I sometimes wish that I was a workman. Art is
long: life isn't. Perhaps you are now careering round
Schleswig or some other-where for a summer holiday. I shall
probably go to France next month for a business and pleasure
excursion. Let me hear from you about things in general or
in particular--a line, a word will be welcome. I hope you
are all well; and with kind regards remain
"Yours faithfully,
"R. C."
It is clear from the above letter that Caldecott was conscious of the
great change that was coming in his work in 1874. The suggestions of
his friends that he should draw continually from familiar objects, and
the hints he received from time to time that he "could not draw a
lady," are ludicrously illustrated in two sketches to a Manchester
friend who watched the progress of the artist with lively interest.
[Illustration: "DRAWING FROM FAMILIAR OBJECTS."]
[Illustration: "COULD NOT DRAW A LADY!"]
But in spite of his moving laughter, the period referred to in this
chapter was the most serious and eventful in Caldecott's career; when
a sense of beauty and fitness in design seemed to have been revealed to
him, as it were, in a vision, and when his serious studies seemed to be
bearing fruit for the first time; when he felt, as he never felt
before, the responsibilities of his art and the want of severe training
for his profession. Then--but not till then--did the lines of _Punch_
"On the late Randolph Caldecott," written in February 1886, apply
exactly:--
"Sure never pencil steeped in mirth
So closely kept to grace and beauty."
* * * * *
[Illustration]