ts
precincts, but of coast scenes, Swiss views, drawings of birds,
illustrations of the Civil War, and, more especially, of fifty-three
remarkable drawings of the Rhineland regions, done at the rate of three a
day; these last were offered by Turner to Mr. Fawkes on his return from
the Continent for the sum of five hundred pounds, and the bargain was
closed at once. When Mr. Fawkes visited London he spent hours in Turner's
private gallery, but was never shown into the painting-room. Indeed, very
few persons were ever allowed there. Once, when Turner dined at a hotel
with Mr. Fawkes, the artist took too much wine, and reeled about,
exclaiming, "Hawkey, I am the real lion--I am the great lion of the day,
Hawkey." When Mr. Fawkes died, ended Turner's visits to Farnley. He never
went there again, but when the younger Fawkes brought the Rhine drawings
up to London for him to see again, he passed his hand over the "Lorelei
Twilight," saying, with tears in his eyes, "But Hawkey! but Hawkey!" When
Mr. Wells, an artist of Addiscomb, died he mourned his loss bitterly, and
exclaimed to his daughter: "Oh, Clara, Clara, these are iron tears! I have
lost the best friend I ever had in my life!" In this family all the
children loved him. He would lie on the floor, and play with them, and the
oldest daughter afterward said: "Of all the light-hearted, merry creatures
I ever knew, Turner was the most so." But in 1797 Turner had a bitter
disappointment which warped and distorted all his after-life. A young lady
to whom he had become attached while a schoolboy at Margate, was engaged
to be married to him. He had been absent for two years on sketching tours,
and the step-mother of the young lady had intercepted and destroyed his
letters, so that at last she believed the representations made that Turner
had deserted her. She became engaged to another, and was about to be
married, when Turner appeared, and pleaded passionately that she would
return to him. She thought that she had been trifled with, and held by her
refusal, and did not find out the wrongs done by the step-mother until it
was too late. This disappointment led to greater self-concentration and
stingy money-getting until it became the absorbing passion of his life, so
that the artist passion was dominated by it.

It would take up too large a portion of this book to describe even briefly
Turner's travels and works. Only a bare outline can be given. In 1800 he
became an Associate of