"SANDUSKY, "Sunday, Twenty-fourth April, 1842.

"We went ashore at Louisville this night week, where I left off, two lines above; and slept at the hotel, in which we had put up before. The Messenger being abominably slow, we got our luggage out next morning, and started on again at eleven o'clock in the Benjamin Franklin mail-boat: a splendid vessel, with a cabin more than two hundred feet long, and little state-rooms affording proportionate conveniences. She got in at Cincinnati by one o'clock next morning, when we landed in the dark and went back to our old hotel. As we made our way on foot over the broken pavement, Anne measured her length upon the ground, but didn't hurt herself. I say nothing of Kate's troubles—but you recollect her propensity? She falls into, or out of, every coach or boat we enter; scrapes the skin off her legs; brings great sores and swellings on her feet; chips large fragments out of her ankle-bones; and makes herself blue with bruises. She really has, however, since we got over the first trial of being among circumstances so new and so fatiguing, made a most admirable traveler in every respect. She has never screamed or expressed alarm under circumstances that would have fully justified her in doing so, even in my eyes; has never given way to despondency or fatigue, though we have now been traveling incessantly, through a very rough country, for more than a month, and have been at times, as you may readily suppose, most thoroughly tired; has always accommodated herself, well and cheerfully, to everything; and has pleased me very much, and proved herself perfectly game.

"We remained at Cincinnati all Tuesday the nineteenth, and all that night. At eight o'clock on Wednesday morning the twentieth, we left in the mail-stage for Columbus: Anne, Kate, and Mr. Q. inside; I on the box. The distance is a hundred and twenty miles; the road macadamized; and, for an American road, very good. We were three-and-twenty hours performing the journey. We traveled all night; reached Columbus at seven in the morning; breakfasted; and went to bed until dinner-time. At night we held a levee for half an hour, and the people poured in as they always do: each gentleman with a lady on each arm, exactly like the Chorus to God Save the Queen. I wish you could see them, that you might know what a splendid comparison this is. They wear their clothes precisely as the chorus people do; and stand—supposing Kate and me to be in the centre of the stage, with our backs to the footlights—just as the company would, on the first night of the season. They shake hands exactly after the manner of the guests at a ball at the Adelphi or the Haymarket; receive any facetiousness on my part as if there were a stage direction 'all laugh;' and have rather more difficulty in 'getting off' than the last gentlemen, in white pantaloons, polished boots, and berlins, usually display, under the most trying circumstances.

"Next morning, that is to say, on Friday, the 22d, at seven o'clock exactly, we resumed our journey. The stage from Columbus to this place only running thrice a week, and not on that day, I bargained for an 'exclusive extra' with four horses; for which I paid forty dollars, or eight pounds English: the horses changing, as they would if it were the regular stage. To insure our getting on properly, the proprietors sent an agent on the box; and, with no other company but him and a hamper full of eatables and drinkables, we went upon our way. It is impossible to convey an adequate idea to you of the kind of road over which we traveled. I can only say that it was, at the best, but a track through the wild forest, and among the swamps, bogs, and morasses of the withered bush. A great portion of it was what is called a 'corduroy road:' which is made by throwing round logs or whole trees into a swamp, and leaving them to settle there. Good Heaven! if you only felt one of the least of the jolts with which the coach falls from log to log! It is like nothing but going up a steep flight of stairs in an omnibus. Now the coach flung us in a heap on its floor, and now crushed our heads against its roof. Now one side of it was deep in the mire, and we were holding on to the other. Now it was lying on the horses' tails, and now again upon its back. But it never, never was in any position, attitude, or kind of motion, to which we are accustomed in coaches; or made the smallest approach to our experience of the proceedings of any sort of vehicle that goes on wheels. Still, the day was beautiful, the air delicious, and we were alone; with no tobacco-spittle, or eternal prosy conversation about dollars and politics (the only two subjects they ever converse about, or can converse upon), to bore us. We really enjoyed it; made a joke of the being knocked about; and were quite merry. At two o'clock we stopped in the wood to open our hamper and dine; and we drank to our darlings and all friends at home. Then we started again and went on until ten o'clock at night: when we reached a place called Lower Sandusky, sixty-two miles from our starting-point. The last three hours of the journey were not very pleasant; for it lightened—awfully: every flash very vivid, very blue, and very long; and, the wood being so dense that the branches on either side of the track rattled and broke against the coach, it was rather a dangerous neighborhood for a thunder-storm.

"The inn at which we halted was a rough log house. The people were all abed, and we had to knock them up. We had the queerest sleeping-room, with two doors, one opposite the other; both opening directly on the wild black country, and neither having any lock or bolt. The effect of these opposite doors was, that one was always blowing the other open: an ingenuity in the art of building, which I don't remember to have met with before. You should have seen me, in my shirt, blockading them with portmanteaus, and desperately endeavoring to make the room tidy! But the blockading was really needful, for in my dressing-case I have about 250l. in gold; and for the amount of the middle figure in that scarce metal there are not a few men in the West who would murder their fathers. Apropos of this golden store, consider at your leisure the strange state of things in this country. It has no money; really no money. The bank-paper won't pass; the newspapers are full of advertisements from tradesmen who sell by barter; and American gold is not to be had, or purchased. I bought sovereigns, English sovereigns, at first; but as I could get none of them at Cincinnati, to this day, I have had to purchase French gold; 20-franc pieces; with which I am traveling as if I were in Paris!

"But let's go back to Lower Sandusky. Mr. Q. went to bed up in the roof of the log house somewhere, but was so beset by bugs that he got up after an hour and lay in the coach, . . . where he was obliged to wait till breakfast-time. We breakfasted, driver and all, in the one common room. It was papered with newspapers, and was as rough a place as need be. At half-past seven we started again, and we reached Sandusky at six o'clock yesterday afternoon. It is on Lake Erie, twenty-four hours' journey by steamboat from Buffalo. We found no boat here, nor has there been one, since. We are waiting, with every thing packed up, ready to start on the shortest notice; and are anxiously looking out for smoke in the distance.

"There was an old gentleman in the log inn at Lower Sandusky who treats with the Indians on the part of the American government, and has just concluded a treaty with the Wyandot Indians at that place to remove next year to some land provided for them west of the Mississippi, a little way beyond St. Louis. He described his negotiation to me, and their reluctance to go, exceedingly well. They are a fine people, but degraded and broken down. If you could see any of their men and women on a race-course in England, you would not know them from gipsies.

"We are in a small house here, but a very comfortable one, and the people are exceedingly obliging. Their demeanor in these country parts is invariably morose, sullen, clownish, and repulsive. I should think there is not, on the face of the earth, a people so entirely destitute of humor, vivacity, or the capacity of enjoyment. It is most remarkable. I am quite serious when I say that I have not heard a hearty laugh these six weeks, except my own; nor have I seen a merry face on any shoulders but a black man's. Lounging listlessly about; idling in bar-rooms; smoking; spitting; and lolling on the pavement in rocking-chairs, outside the shop-doors; are the only recreations. I don't think the national shrewdness extends beyond the Yankees; that is, the Eastern men. The rest are heavy, dull, and ignorant. Our landlord here is from the East. He is a handsome, obliging, civil fellow. He comes into the room with his hat on; spits in the fireplace as he talks; sits down on the sofa with his hat on; pulls out his newspaper, and reads; but to all this I am accustomed. He is anxious to please—and that is enough.

"We are wishing very much for a boat; for we hope to find our letters at Buffalo. It is half-past one; and, as there is no boat in sight, we are fain (sorely against our wills) to order an early dinner.

"Tuesday, April Twenty-sixth, 1842. "NIAGARA FALLS!!! (UPON THE ENGLISH[61] SIDE.)

"I don't know at what length I might have written you from Sandusky, my beloved friend, if a steamer had not come in sight just as I finished the last unintelligible sheet! (oh! the ink in these parts!): whereupon I was obliged to pack up bag and baggage, to swallow a hasty apology for a dinner, and to hurry my train on board with all the speed I might. She was a fine steamship, four hundred tons burden, name the Constitution, had very few passengers on board, and had bountiful and handsome accommodation. It's all very fine talking about Lake Erie, but it won't do for persons who are liable to sea-sickness. We were all sick. It's almost as bad in that respect as the Atlantic. The waves are very short, and horribly constant. We reached Buffalo at six this morning; went ashore to breakfast; sent to the post-office forthwith; and received—oh! who or what can say with how much pleasure and what unspeakable delight!—our English letters!

"We lay all Sunday night at a town (and a beautiful town too) called Cleveland; on Lake Erie. The people poured on board, in crowds, by six on Monday morning, to see me; and a party of 'gentlemen' actually planted themselves before our little cabin, and stared in at the door and windows while I was washing, and Kate lay in bed. I was so incensed at this, and at a certain newspaper published in that town which I had accidentally seen in Sandusky (advocating war with England to the death, saying that Britain must be 'whipped again,' and promising all true Americans that within two years they should sing Yankee Doodle in Hyde Park and Hail Columbia in the courts of Westminster), that when the mayor came on board to present himself to me, according to custom, I refused to see him, and bade Mr. Q. tell him why and wherefore. His honor took it very coolly, and retired to the top of the wharf, with a big stick and a whittling knife, with which he worked so lustily (staring at the closed door of our cabin all the time) that long before the boat left, the big stick was no bigger than a cribbage-peg!

"I never in my life was in such a state of excitement as coming from Buffalo here, this morning. You come by railroad, and are nigh two hours upon the way. I looked out for the spray, and listened for the roar, as far beyond the bounds of possibility as though, landing in Liverpool, I were to listen for the music of your pleasant voice in Lincoln's Inn Fields. At last, when the train stopped, I saw two great white clouds rising up from the depths of the earth,—nothing more. They rose up slowly, gently, majestically, into the air. I dragged Kate down a deep and slippery path leading to the ferry-boat; bullied Anne for not coming fast enough; perspired at every pore; and felt, it is impossible to say how, as the sound grew louder and louder in my ears, and yet nothing could be seen for the mist.

"There were two English officers with us (ah! what gentlemen, what noblemen of nature they seemed), and they hurried off with me; leaving Kate and Anne on a crag of ice; and clambered after me over the rocks at the foot of the small Fall, while the ferryman was getting the boat ready. I was not disappointed—but I could make out nothing. In an instant I was blinded by the spray, and wet to the skin. I saw the water tearing madly down from some immense height, but could get no idea of shape, or situation, or anything but vague immensity. But when we were seated in the boat, and crossing at the very foot of the cataract—then I began to feel what it was. Directly I had changed my clothes at the inn I went out again, taking Kate with me, and hurried to the Horse-shoe Fall. I went down alone, into the very basin. It would be hard for a man to stand nearer God than he does there. There was a bright rainbow at my feet; and from that I looked up to—great Heaven! to what a fall of bright green water! The broad, deep, mighty stream seems to die in the act of falling; and from its unfathomable grave arises that tremendous ghost of spray and mist which is never laid, and has been haunting this place with the same dread solemnity—perhaps from the creation of the world.

"We purpose remaining here a week. In my next I will try to give you some idea of my impressions, and to tell you how they change with every day. At present it is impossible. I can only say that the first effect of this tremendous spectacle on me was peace of mind—tranquillity—great thoughts of eternal rest and happiness—nothing of terror. I can shudder at the recollection of Glencoe (dear friend, with Heaven's leave we must see Glencoe together), but whenever I think of Niagara I shall think of its beauty.

"If you could hear the roar that is in my ears as I write this. Both Falls are under our windows. From our sitting-room and bedroom we look down straight upon them. There is not a soul in the house but ourselves. What would I give if you and Mac were here to share the sensations of this time! I was going to add, what would I give if the dear girl whose ashes lie in Kensal Green had lived to come so far along with us—but she has been here many times, I doubt not, since her sweet face faded from my earthly sight.

* * * * *

"One word on the precious letters before I close. You are right, my dear fellow, about the papers; and you are right (I grieve to say) about the people. Am I right? quoth the conjurer. Yes! from gallery, pit, and boxes. I did let out those things, at first, against my will, but when I come to tell you all—well; only wait—only wait—till the end of July. I say no more.

"I do perceive a perplexingly divided and subdivided duty, in the matter of the book of travels. Oh! the sublimated essence of comicality that I could distil, from the materials I have! . . . You are a part, and an essential part, of our home, dear friend, and I exhaust my imagination in picturing the circumstances under which I shall surprise you by walking into 58, Lincoln's Inn Fields. We are truly grateful to God for the health and happiness of our inexpressibly dear children and all our friends. But one letter more—only one. . . . I don't seem to have been half affectionate enough, but there are thoughts, you know, that lie too deep for words."

FOOTNOTES:

[59] A young lady's account of this party, written next morning, and quoted in one of the American memoirs of Dickens, enables us to contemplate his suffering from the point of view of those who inflicted it: "I went last evening to a party at Judge Walker's, given to the hero of the day. . . . When we reached the house, Mr. Dickens had left the crowded rooms, and was in the hall with his wife, about taking his departure when we entered the door. We were introduced to him in our wrapping; and in the flurry and embarrassment of the meeting, one of the party dropped a parcel, containing shoes, gloves, etc. Mr. Dickens, stooping, gathered them up and restored them with a laughing remark, and we bounded up-stairs to get our things off. Hastening down again, we found him with Mrs. Dickens seated upon a sofa, surrounded by a group of ladies; Judge Walker having requested him to delay his departure for a few moments, for the gratification of some tardy friends who had just arrived, ourselves among the number. Declining to re-enter the rooms where he had already taken leave of the guests, he had seated himself in the hall. He is young and handsome, has a mellow, beautiful eye, fine brow, and abundant hair. His mouth is large, and his smile so bright it seemed to shed light and happiness all about him. His manner is easy, negligent, but not elegant. His dress was foppish; in fact, he was overdressed, yet his garments were worn so easily they appeared to be a necessary part of him. (!) He had a dark coat, with lighter pantaloons; a black waistcoat, embroidered with colored flowers; and about his neck, covering his white shirt-front, was a black neckcloth, also embroidered in colors, in which were placed two large diamond pins connected by a chain. A gold watch-chain, and a large red rose in his button-hole, completed his toilet. He appeared a little weary, but answered the remarks made to him—for he originated none—in an agreeable manner. Mr. Beard's portrait of Fagin was so placed in the room that we could see it from where we stood surrounding him. One of the ladies asked him if it was his idea of the Jew. He replied, 'Very nearly.' Another, laughingly, requested that he would give her the rose he wore, as a memento. He shook his head and said, 'That will not do; he could not give it to one; the others would be jealous.' A half-dozen then insisted on having it, whereupon he proposed to divide the leaves among them. In taking the rose from his coat, either by design or accident, the leaves loosened and fell upon the floor, and amid considerable laughter the ladies stooped and gathered them. He remained some twenty minutes, perhaps, in the hall, and then took his leave. I must confess to considerable disappointment in the personal of my idol. I felt that his throne was shaken, although it never could be destroyed." This appalling picture supplements and very sufficiently explains the mournful passage in the text.

[60] "RUNAWAY NEGRO IN JAIL" was the heading of the advertisement inclosed, which had a woodcut of master and slave in its corner, and announced that Wilford Garner, sheriff and jailer of Chicot County, Arkansas, requested owner to come and prove property—or——

[61] Ten dashes underneath the word.



CHAPTER XXIV.

NIAGARA AND MONTREAL.

1842.

Last Two Letters—Dickens vanquished—Obstacles to Copyright—Two described—Value of Literary Popularity—Substitute for Literature—The Secretary described—His Paintings—The Lion and —— —Toryism of Toronto—Canadian Attentions—Proposed Theatricals—Last Letter—The Private Play—Stage Manager's Report—The Lady Performers—Bill of the Performance—A Touch of Crummles—HOME.

MY friend was better than his word, and two more letters reached me before his return. The opening of the first was written from Niagara on the 3d, and its close from Montreal on the 12th, of May; from which latter city also, on the 26th of that month, the last of all was written.

Much of the first of these letters had reference to the international copyright agitation, and gave strong expression to the indignation awakened in him (nor less in some of the best men of America) by the adoption, at a public meeting in Boston itself, of a memorial against any change of the law, in the course of which it was stated that, if English authors were invested with any control over the republication of their own books, it would be no longer possible for American editors to alter and adapt them to the American taste. This deliberate declaration, however, unsparing as Dickens's anger at it was, in effect vanquished him. He saw the hopelessness of pursuing further any present effort to bring about the change desired; and he took the determination not only to drop any allusion to it in his proposed book, but to try what effect might be produced, when he should again be in England, by a league of English authors to suspend further intercourse with American publishers while the law should remain as it is. On his return he made accordingly a public appeal to this effect, stating his own intention for the future to forego all profit derivable from the authorized transmission of early proofs across the Atlantic; but his hopes in this particular also were doomed to disappointment. I now leave the subject, quoting only from his present letter the general remarks with which it is dismissed by himself.

"NIAGARA FALLS, "Tuesday, Third May, 1842.

"I'll tell you what the two obstacles to the passing of an international copyright law with England are: firstly, the national love of 'doing' a man in any bargain or matter of business; secondly, the national vanity. Both these characteristics prevail to an extent which no stranger can possibly estimate.

"With regard to the first, I seriously believe that it is an essential part of the pleasure derived from the perusal of a popular English book, that the author gets nothing for it. It is so dar-nation 'cute—so knowing in Jonathan to get his reading on those terms. He has the Englishman so regularly on the hip that his eye twinkles with slyness, cunning, and delight; and he chuckles over the humor of the page with an appreciation of it quite inconsistent with, and apart from, its honest purchase. The raven hasn't more joy in eating a stolen piece of meat, than the American has in reading the English book which he gets for nothing.

"With regard to the second, it reconciles that better and more elevated class who are above this sort of satisfaction, with surprising ease. The man's read in America! The Americans like him! They are glad to see him when he comes here! They flock about him, and tell him that they are grateful to him for spirits in sickness; for many hours of delight in health; for a hundred fanciful associations which are constantly interchanged between themselves and their wives and children at home! It is nothing that all this takes place in countries where he is paid; it is nothing that he has won fame for himself elsewhere, and profit too. The Americans read him; the free, enlightened, independent Americans; and what more would he have? Here's reward enough for any man. The national vanity swallows up all other countries on the face of the earth, and leaves but this above the ocean. Now, mark what the real value of this American reading is. Find me in the whole range of literature one single solitary English book which becomes popular with them before, by going through the ordeal at home and becoming popular there, it has forced itself on their attention—and I am content that the law should remain as it is, forever and a day. I must make one exception. There are some mawkish tales of fashionable life before which crowds fall down as they were gilded calves, which have been snugly enshrined in circulating libraries at home, from the date of their publication.

"As to telling them they will have no literature of their own, the universal answer (out of Boston) is, 'We don't want one. Why should we pay for one when we can get it for nothing? Our people don't think of poetry, sir. Dollars, banks, and cotton are our books, sir.' And they certainly are in one sense; for a lower average of general information than exists in this country on all other topics, it would be very hard to find. So much, at present, for international copyright."

The same letter kept the promise made in its predecessor that one or two more sketches of character should be sent: "One of the most amusing phrases in use all through the country, for its constant repetition, and adaptation to every emergency, is 'Yes, Sir.' Let me give you a specimen." (The specimen was the dialogue, in the Notes, of straw-hat and brown-hat, during the stage-coach ride to Sandusky.) "I am not joking, upon my word. This is exactly the dialogue. Nothing else occurring to me at this moment, let me give you the secretary's portrait. Shall I?

"He is of a sentimental turn—strongly sentimental; and tells Anne as June approaches that he hopes 'we shall sometimes think of him' in our own country. He wears a cloak, like Hamlet; and a very tall, big, limp, dusty black hat, which he exchanges on long journeys for a cap like Harlequin's. . . . He sings; and in some of our quarters, when his bedroom has been near ours, we have heard him grunting bass notes through the keyhole of his door, to attract our attention. His desire that I should formally ask him to sing, and his devices to make me do so, are irresistibly absurd. There was a piano in our room at Hartford (you recollect our being there, early in February?)—and he asked me one night, when we were alone, if 'Mrs. D.' played. 'Yes, Mr. Q.' 'Oh, indeed, Sir! I sing: so whenever you want a little soothing—' You may imagine how hastily I left the room, on some false pretense, without hearing more.

"He paints. . . . An enormous box of oil-colors is the main part of his luggage: and with these he blazes away, in his own room, for hours together. Anne got hold of some big-headed, pot-bellied sketches he made of the passengers on board the canal-boat (including me in my fur coat), the recollection of which brings the tears into my eyes at this minute. He painted the Falls, at Niagara, superbly; and is supposed now to be engaged on a full-length representation of me: waiters having reported that chamber-maids have said that there is a picture in his room which has a great deal of hair. One girl opined that it was 'the beginning of the King's Arms;' but I am pretty sure that the Lion is myself. . . .

"Sometimes, but not often, he commences a conversation. That usually occurs when we are walking the deck after dark; or when we are alone together in a coach. It is his practice at such times to relate the most notorious and patriarchal Joe Miller, as something that occurred in his own family. When traveling by coach, he is particularly fond of imitating cows and pigs; and nearly challenged a fellow-passenger the other day, who had been moved by the display of this accomplishment into telling him that he was 'a Perfect Calf.' He thinks it an indispensable act of politeness and attention to inquire constantly whether we're not sleepy, or, to use his own words, whether we don't 'suffer for sleep.' If we have taken a long nap of fourteen hours or so, after a long journey, he is sure to meet me at the bedroom door when I turn out in the morning, with this inquiry. But, apart from the amusement he gives us, I could not by possibility have lighted on any one who would have suited my purpose so well. I have raised his ten dollars per month to twenty; and mean to make it up for six months."

The conclusion of this letter was dated from "Montreal, Thursday, twelfth May," and was little more than an eager yearning for home: "This will be a very short and stupid letter, my dear friend; for the post leaves here much earlier than I expected, and all my grand designs for being unusually brilliant fall to the ground. I will write you one line by the next Cunard boat,—reserving all else until our happy and long long looked-for meeting.

"We have been to Toronto and Kingston; experiencing attentions at each which I should have difficulty in describing. The wild and rabid toryism of Toronto is, I speak seriously, appalling. English kindness is very different from American. People send their horses and carriages for your use, but they don't exact as payment the right of being always under your nose. We had no less than five carriages at Kingston waiting our pleasure at one time; not to mention the commodore's barge and crew, and a beautiful government steamer. We dined with Sir Charles Bagot last Sunday. Lord Mulgrave was to have met us yesterday at Lachine; but, as he was wind-bound in his yacht and couldn't get in, Sir Richard Jackson sent his drag four-in-hand, with two other young fellows who are also his aides, and in we came in grand style.

"The Theatricals (I think I told you[62] I had been invited to play with the officers of the Coldstream Guards here) are A Roland for an Oliver; Two o'Clock in the Morning; and either the Young Widow, or Deaf as a Post. Ladies (unprofessional) are going to play, for the first time. I wrote to Mitchell at New York for a wig for Mr. Snobbington, which has arrived, and is brilliant. If they had done Love, Law, and Physick, as at first proposed, I was already 'up' in Flexible, having played it of old, before my authorship days; but if it should be Splash in the Young Widow, you will have to do me the favor to imagine me in a smart livery-coat, shiny black hat and cockade, white knee-cords, white top-boots, blue stock, small whip, red cheeks, and dark eyebrows. Conceive Topping's state of mind if I bring this dress home and put it on unexpectedly! . . . God bless you, dear friend. I can say nothing about the seventh, the day on which we sail. It is impossible. Words cannot express what we feel, now that the time is so near. . . ."

His last letter, dated from "Peasco's Hotel, Montreal, Canada, twenty-sixth of May," described the private theatricals, and inclosed me a bill of the play.

"This, like my last, will be a stupid letter, because both Kate and I are thrown into such a state of excitement by the near approach of the seventh of June that we can do nothing, and think of nothing.

"The play came off last night. The audience, between five and six hundred strong, were invited as to a party; a regular table with refreshments being spread in the lobby and saloon. We had the band of the twenty-third (one of the finest in the service) in the orchestra, the theatre was lighted with gas, the scenery was excellent, and the properties were all brought from private houses. Sir Charles Bagot, Sir Richard Jackson, and their staffs were present; and as the military portion of the audience were all in full uniform, it was really a splendid scene.

"We 'went' also splendidly; though with nothing very remarkable in the acting way. We had for Sir Mark Chase a genuine odd fish, with plenty of humor; but our Tristram Sappy was not up to the marvelous reputation he has somehow or other acquired here. I am not however, let me tell you, placarded as stage-manager for nothing. Everybody was told they would have to submit to the most iron despotism; and didn't I come Macready over them? Oh, no. By no means. Certainly not. The pains I have taken with them, and the perspiration I have expended, during the last ten days, exceed in amount anything you can imagine. I had regular plots of the scenery made out, and lists of the properties wanted; and had them nailed up by the prompter's chair. Every letter that was to be delivered, was written; every piece of money that had to be given, provided; and not a single thing lost sight of. I prompted, myself, when I was not on; when I was, I made the regular prompter of the theatre my deputy; and I never saw anything so perfectly touch and go, as the first two pieces. The bedroom scene in the interlude was as well furnished as Vestris had it; with a 'practicable' fireplace blazing away like mad, and everything in a concatenation accordingly. I really do believe that I was very funny: at least I know that I laughed heartily at myself, and made the part a character, such as you and I know very well: a mixture of T——, Harley, Yates, Keeley, and Jerry Sneak. It went with a roar, all through; and, as I am closing this, they have told me I was so well made up that Sir Charles Bagot, who sat in the stage-box, had no idea who played Mr. Snobbington, until the piece was over.



* * * * *

COMMITTEE.

* * * * *

Mrs. TORRENS. W. C. ERMATINGER, Esq. Mrs. PERRY. Captain TORRENS. THE EARL OF MULGRAVE.

* * * * *

STAGE MANAGER—MR. CHARLES DICKENS.

* * * * *

QUEEN'S THEATRE, MONTREAL

* * * * *

ON WEDNESDAY EVENING, MAY 25TH, 1842, WILL BE PERFORMED,

ROLAND FOR AN OLIVER.

* * * * *

MRS. SELBORNE. [Handwritten: Mrs. Torrens] MARIA DARLINGTON. [Handwritten: Miss Griffin] MRS. FIXTURE. [Handwritten: Miss Ermatinger.]

MR. SELBORNE. [Handwritten: Lord Mulgrave.] ALFRED HIGHFLYER. [Handwritten: Mr. Charles Dickens] SIR MARK CHASE. [Handwritten: Honourable Mr. Methuen] FIXTURE. [Handwritten: Captain Willoughby.] GAMEKEEPER. [Handwritten: Captain Granville]

* * * * *

AFTER WHICH, AN INTERLUDE IN ONE SCENE, (FROM THE FRENCH,) CALLED

Past Two o'Clock in the Morning.

* * * * *

THE STRANGER. [Handwritten: Captain Granville] MR. SNOBBINGTON. [Handwritten: Mr. Charles Dickens]

* * * * *

TO CONCLUDE WITH THE FARCE, IN ONE ACT, ENTITLED

DEAF AS A POST.

* * * * *

MRS. PLUMPLEY. [Handwritten: Mrs. Torrens] AMY TEMPLETON. [Handwritten: Mrs. Charles Dickens!!!!!!!!] SOPHY WALTON. [Handwritten: Mrs. Perry.] SALLY MAGGS. [Handwritten: Miss Griffin]

CAPTAIN TEMPLETON. [Handwritten: Captain Torrens] MR. WALTON. [Handwritten: Captain Willoughby.] TRISTRAM SAPPY. [Handwritten: Doctor Griffin] CRUPPER. [Handwritten: Lord Mulgrave] GALLOP. [Handwritten: Mr. Charles Dickens.]

MONTREAL, May 24, 1842. GAZETTE OFFICE.

"But only think of Kate playing! and playing devilish well, I assure you! All the ladies were capital, and we had no wait or hitch for an instant. You may suppose this, when I tell you that we began at eight, and had the curtain down at eleven. It is their custom here, to prevent heart-burnings in a very heart-burning town, whenever they have played in private, to repeat the performances in public. So, on Saturday (substituting, of course, real actresses for the ladies), we repeat the two first pieces to a paying audience, for the manager's benefit. . . .

"I send you a bill, to which I have appended a key.

"I have not told you half enough. But I promise you I shall make you shake your sides about this play. Wasn't it worthy of Crummles that when Lord Mulgrave and I went out to the door to receive the Governor-general, the regular prompter followed us in agony with four tall candlesticks with wax candles in them, and besought us with a bleeding heart to carry two apiece, in accordance with all the precedents? . . .

* * * * *

"I have hardly spoken of our letters, which reached us yesterday, shortly before the play began. A hundred thousand thanks for your delightful mainsail of that gallant little packet. I read it again and again; and had it all over again at breakfast-time this morning. I heard also, by the same ship, from Talfourd, Miss Coutts, Brougham, Rogers, and others. A delicious letter from Mac too, as good as his painting, I swear. Give my hearty love to him. . . . God bless you, my dear friend. As the time draws nearer, we get FEVERED with anxiety for home. . . . Kiss our darlings for us. We shall soon meet, please God, and be happier and merrier than ever we were, in all our lives. . . . Oh, home—home—home—home—home—home—HOME!!!!!!!!!!!"

END OF VOL. I.

FOOTNOTES:

[62] See ante, p. 303.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Page viii, "recoltions" changed to "recollections" (Another schoolfellow's recollections)

Page ix, extraneous page number removed Original text read:

Writing Pickwick, Nos. 14 127 and 15 127

Page 59, "t" changed to "it" (it as early as)

Page 117, "reisssue" changed to "reissue" (Scheme to reissue)

Page 224, "s" changed to "is" (there is little further)

Page 224, "hab" changed to "habit" (his invariable habit)

Page 242, "axing" changed to "taxing" (taxing ingenuity to)

Page 242, "f" chagned to "of" (of sheer insanity)

Page 286, word "I" inserted into text. (I have heard of)

To retain the integrity of the original text, varied hyphenations, capitalizations, and, at times, spellings were retained.

For example:

Varied hyphenation and capitalization of Devonshire Terrace was retained. Also fac-simile and facsimile. Varied spelling of A'Beckett/A'Becket was retained.



*****



Transcriber's Note:

For the reader: Italic text is surrounded by underscores, bold text is surrounded by equal signs and underlined text is surrounded by tildes. Two breves above the letter e are indicated by ĕ in the text.



THE LIFE

OF



THE LIFE

OF

CHARLES DICKENS



BY

JOHN FORSTER.



VOL. II.

1842-1852.



CORRECTIONS MADE IN THE LATER EDITIONS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

* * * * *

A NOTICE written under date of the 23rd December, 1871, appeared with the Tenth Edition. "Such has been the rapidity of the demand for successive impressions of this book, that I have found it impossible, until now, to correct at pages 31, 87, and 97 three errors of statement made in the former editions; and some few other mistakes, not in themselves important, at pages 96, 101, and 102. I take the opportunity of adding, that the mention at p. 83 is not an allusion to the well-known 'Penny' and 'Saturday' magazines, but to weekly periodicals of some years' earlier date resembling them in form. One of them, I have since found from a later mention by Dickens himself, was presumably of a less wholesome and instructive character. 'I used,' he says, 'when I was at school, to take in the Terrific Register, making myself unspeakably miserable, and frightening my very wits out of my head, for the small charge of a penny weekly; which, considering that there was an illustration to every number in which there was always a pool of blood, and at least one body, was cheap.' An obliging correspondent writes to me upon my reference to the Fox-under-the-hill, at p. 62: 'Will you permit me to say, that the house, shut up and almost ruinous, is still to be found at the bottom of a curious and most precipitous court, the entrance of which is just past Salisbury-street. . . . It was once, I think, the approach to the halfpenny boats. The house is now shut out from the water-side by the Embankment.'" I proceed to state in detail what the changes thus referred to were.

The passage about James Lamert, beginning at the thirteenth line of p. 31, now stands: "His chief ally and encourager in these displays was a youth of some ability, much older than himself, named James Lamert, stepson to his mother's sister and therefore a sort of cousin, who was his great patron and friend in his childish days. Mary, the eldest daughter of Charles Barrow, himself a lieutenant in the navy, had for her first husband a commander in the navy called Allen; on whose death by drowning at Rio Janeiro she had joined her sister, the navy-pay clerk's wife, at Chatham; in which place she subsequently took for her second husband Doctor Lamert, an army surgeon, whose son James, even after he had been sent to Sandhurst for his education, continued still to visit Chatham from time to time. He had a turn for private theatricals; and as his father's quarters were in the ordnance-hospital there, a great rambling place otherwise at that time almost uninhabited, he had plenty of room in which to get up his entertainments." Two other corrections were consequent on this change. At the 21st line of page 38, for "the elder cousin" read "the cousin by marriage;" and at the 31st line of p. 49, "cousin by his mother's side" should be "cousin by his aunt's marriage."

At the 15th line of the 41st page, "his bachelor-uncle, fellow-clerk," &c. should be "the uncle who was at this time fellow-clerk," &c. At the 11th line of page 54, "Charles-court" should be "Clare-court." The allusion to one of his favourite localities at the 23d line of page 62 should stand thus: "a little public-house by the water-side called the Fox-under-the-hill, approached by an underground passage which we once missed in looking for it together."

The passage at p. 87, having reference to an early friend who had been with him, as I supposed, at his first school, should run thus: "In this however I have since discovered my own mistake: the truth being that it was this gentleman's connection, not with the Wellington-academy, but with a school kept by Mr. Dawson in Hunter-street, Brunswick-square, where the brothers of Dickens were subsequently placed, which led to their early knowledge of each other. I fancy that they were together also, for a short time, at Mr. Molloy's in New-square, Lincoln's-inn; but, whether or not this was so, Dickens certainly had not quitted school many months before his father had made sufficient interest with an attorney of Gray's-inn, Mr. Edward Blackmore, to obtain him regular employment in his office." There is subsequent allusion to the same gentleman (at p. 182) as his "school-companion at Mr. Dawson's in Henrietta-street," which ought to stand as "having known him when himself a law-clerk in Lincoln's-inn."

At p. 96 I had stated that Mr. John Dickens reported for the Morning Chronicle; and at p. 101 that Mr. Thomas Beard reported for the Morning Herald; whereas Mr. Dickens, though in the gallery for other papers, did not report for the Chronicle, and Mr. Beard did report for that journal; and where (at p. 102) Dickens was spoken of as associated with Mr. Beard in a reporting party which represented respectively the Chronicle and Herald, the passage ought simply to have described him as "connected with a reporting party, being Lord John Russell's Devonshire contest above-named, and his associate chief being Mr. Beard, entrusted with command for the Chronicle in this particular express."

At p. 97 I had made a mistake about his "first published piece of writing," in too hastily assuming that he had himself forgotten what the particular piece was. It struck an intelligent and kind correspondent as very unlikely that Dickens should have fallen into error on such a point; and, making personal search for himself (as I ought to have done), discovered that what I supposed to be another piece was merely the same under another title. The description of his first printed sketch should therefore be "(Mr. Minns and his Cousin, as he afterwards entitled it, but which appeared in the magazine as A Dinner at Poplar Walk)." There is another mistake at p. 159, of "bandy-legged" instead of "bulky-legged" and, at p. 177, of "fresh fields" for "fresh woods."

Those several corrections were made in the Tenth Edition. To the Eleventh these words were prefixed (under date of the 23rd of January, 1872): "Since the above mentioned edition went to press, a published letter has rendered necessary a brief additional note to the remarks made at pp. 155-6." The remark occurs in my notice of the silly story of Mr. Cruikshank having originated Oliver Twist, and, with the note referred to, now stands in the form subjoined. "Whether all Sir Benjamin's laurels however should fall to the person by whom the tale is told,* or whether any part belongs to the authority alleged for it, is unfortunately not quite clear. There would hardly have been a doubt, if the fable had been confined to the other side of the Atlantic; but it has been reproduced and widely circulated on this side also; and the distinguished artist whom it calumniates by attributing the invention to him has been left undefended from its slander. Dickens's letter spares me the necessity of characterizing, by the only word which would have been applicable to it, a tale of such incredible and monstrous absurdity as that one of the masterpieces of its author's genius had been merely an illustration of etchings by Mr. Cruikshank!" Note to the words "person by whom the tale is told:" "*This question has been partly solved, since my last edition, by Mr. Cruikshank's announcement in the Times, that, though Dr. Mackenzie had 'confused some circumstances with respect to Mr. Dickens looking over some drawings and sketches,' the substance of his information as to who it was that originated Oliver Twist, and all its characters, had been derived from Mr. Cruikshank himself. The worst part of the foregoing fable, therefore, has not Dr. Mackenzie for its author; and Mr. Cruikshank is to be congratulated on the prudence of his rigid silence respecting it as long as Mr. Dickens lived."

In the Twelfth Edition I mentioned, in the note at p. 149, a little work of which all notice had been previously omitted; and the close of that note now runs: "He had before written for them, without his name, Sunday under Three Heads; and he added subsequently a volume of Young Couples." At p. 157, "parish abuses" is corrected in the same edition to "parish practices;" and at p. 173, "in his later works" to "in his latest works."

I have received letters from several obliging correspondents, among them three or four who were scholars at the Wellington-house Academy before or after Dickens's time, and one who attended the school with him; but such remark as they suggest will more properly accompany my third and closing volume.

PALACE GATE HOUSE, KENSINGTON, 29th of October, 1872.



ILLUSTRATIONS.

* * * * *

PAGE Autograph of Charles Dickens Fly leaf

Charles Dickens, aet. 47. From the portrait painted for the author in 1859 by W. P. Frith, R.A. Engraved by Robert Graves, A.R.A. Frontispiece

Charles Dickens, his Wife, and her Sister. Drawn by Daniel Maclise R.A. in 1842. Engraved by C. H. Jeens 48

Sketch of the Villa Bagnerello (Albaro), by Angus Fletcher 121

Drawing of the Palazzo Peschiere (Genoa), by Mr. Batson 141

At 58, Lincoln's-inn-fields, Monday the 2nd of December, 1844. From a drawing by Daniel Maclise, R.A. Engraved by C. H. Jeens 174

Rosemont, Lausanne. From a drawing by the Hon. Mrs. Watson 229

M. Barthelemy's card 325

Seventeen "fancies" for Mr. Dombey. Designed by H. K. Browne 345

Twelve more similar fancies. From the design of the same artist 346

Charles Dickens to George Cruikshank. Facsimile of a letter written in 1838, concerning the later illustrations to Oliver Twist 349-50



TABLE OF CONTENTS.

* * * * *

CHAPTER I. 1842.

Pages 21-39.

AMERICAN NOTES. AET. 30.

PAGE Return from America 21 Longfellow in England 22 At Broadstairs 23 Preparing Notes 23 Fancy for opening of Chuzzlewit 24 Attractions at Margate 25 Being, not always Believing 26 Burlesque of classic tragedy 26 A smart man and forged letter 26 A proposed dedication 27 Authorship and sea bathing 28 Easy-living rich and patient poor 28 Coming to the end 29 Rejected motto for Notes 30 Home of the Every Day Book 31 Scene at a funeral 32 An introductory chapter suppressed 33 Chapter first printed 33-37 Jeffrey's opinion of the Notes 38 Later page anticipated 38 Experience of America in 1868 38

CHAPTER II. 1843.

Pages 40-62.

FIRST YEAR OF MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT. AET. 31.

A sunset at Land's-end 40 A holiday described by C. D. 41 The same described by Maclise 42 A landscape and a portrait 43 Names first given to Chuzzlewit 44 Origin of the novel 45 Prologue to a play 45 On a tragedy by Browning 46 George Eliot's first book 47 Accompaniments of work 47 Miss Georgina Hogarth 48 Three portraits 49 A public benefactor 50 Controversy on Notes 50 Original of Mrs. Gamp 51 What he will do with her 51 John Black 53 Macready and America 53 Apprehended disservice 54 Exertions for Elton family 55 Seaside life in ordinary 55 Public speeches 56 Ragged schools and results 57 Unitarianism 59 Return to Church of England 59 Language of his Will 59 Christmas Carol 60 Birth of third son 61 Amusing letter 61

CHAPTER III. 1843-1844.

Pages 63-92.

CHUZZLEWIT DISAPPOINTMENTS AND CHRISTMAS CAROL. AET. 31-32.

Falling-off in Chuzzlewit sale 63 Publishers and authors 64 Premature fears 65 Resolve to change his publishers 66 Proposal to his printers 66 Desire to travel again 67 Ways and means 68 Objections to the scheme 69 Confidence in himself 70 Want of confidence in others 70 Bent on his plan 71 Turning point of his career 72 Grounds for course taken 73 On Martin Chuzzlewit 74 American portions 75 The book's special superiority 76 News from America 76 American consolations 77 Why no Pecksniffs in France 78 Why Tartuffes in England 78 A favourite scene of Thackeray's 79 Process of creation in a novel 80 Intended motto for story 81 Leading characters 82 A superb masterpiece 83 Triumph of humorous art 84 Publication of Christmas Carol 84 Unrealized hopes 85 Results of Carol sale 86 Renewed negotiations with printers 87 Agreement with Bradbury and Evans 88 Letters about the Carol 89 Spirit of the book 90 Something better than literature 91

CHAPTER IV. 1844.

Pages 93-110.

YEAR OF DEPARTURE FOR ITALY. AET. 32.

Gore-house friends 93 Sensitive for his calling 94 A troublesome cheque 95 Education speeches 95 Sufferings from stage-adaptations 96 Wrongs from piracy 96 Proceedings in Chancery 97 A pirate's plea 97 Result of Chancery experience 99 Piracy preferred 99 Reliefs to work 100 The tempted and tempter 101 Favourite bit of humour 102 Criticized without humour 102 Taine on Dickens 102 Macready in New Orleans 103 Society in England 104 Writing in the Chronicle 104 Conference with its new editor 104 Preparations for departure 105 In temporary quarters 106 Begging-letter case 106 The farewell dinner-party 107 "Evenings of a Working-man" 108 Greenwich dinner 109 J. M. W. Turner and Carlyle 110

CHAPTER V. 1844.

Pages 111-138.

IDLENESS AT ALBARO: VILLA BAGNERELLO. AET. 32.

The travel to Italy 111 A bit of character 112 French thrown away 112 The Albaro villa 113 First experiences 114 Cloudy weather 115 Sunsets and scenery 116 Address to Maclise 116 The Mediterranean 117 Colours of sky and sea 117 Warning to Maclise 118 Perishing frescoes 118 French Consul at Genoa 119 Rooms in villa described 120 Surrounding scenery 121 Church-ruin on the rocks 121 Angus Fletcher's sketch 121 Work in abeyance 122 Learning Italian 122 Domestic news 123 His English servants 123 English residents 124 Genoa the superb 125 Church splendours and tinsel 126 Theatres 126 Italian plays 127 Dumas' Kean 127 Religious houses 128 Sunday promenade 128 Winter residence chosen 129 A lucky arrival 129 Dinner at French Consul's 130 Verses in C. D.'s honour 130 Others in Prince Joinville's 131 Rumours of war with England 131 A Marquis's reception 132 Flight and tumble 133 Quiet enjoyments 134 English visitors and news 135 Talk with Lord Robertson 135 A suggestion for Jerrold 136 Visit of Frederick Dickens 136 An inn on the Alps 136 Dangers of sea-bathing 137 A change beginning 138

CHAPTER VI. 1844.

Pages 139-162.

WORK IN GENOA: PALAZZO PESCHIERE. AET. 32.

Palace of the Fish-ponds 139 Rooms and frescoes 140 View over the city 141 Dancing and praying 142 Peschiere garden 142 Trying to write 143 A difficulty settled 143 Craving for streets 144 Design for his book 144 Governor's levee 144 Absence of the poet 145 Subject he is working at 145 C. D.'s politics 146 Choice of a hero 147 Master-passion 147 Religious sentiment 147 A dream 148 Dialogue in a vision 149 "What is the True religion?" 149 Fragments of reality in a vision 149 Trying regions of thought 150 Reverence for Doctor Arnold 150 First part of book finished 151 Anticipation of its close 151 Differences from published tale 152 First outline of the Chimes 152-156 Liking for the subject 156 What the writing cost him 156 Realities of fictitious sorrow 157 Wild mountain weather 157 Banquet at the Whistle 158 Startling news 158 Coming to London 159 Secret of the visit 160 Eager to try effect of story 160 Plans a reading at my rooms 160 The tale finished 161 Proposed travel 161 Party for the Reading 162

CHAPTER VII. 1844.

Pages 163-178.

ITALIAN TRAVEL. AET. 32.

Cities and people 163 Venice 164 Rapture of enjoyment 165 Aboard the city 165 What he saw and felt 165 Solitary thoughts 166 At Lodi 166 About paintings and engravings 167 Titian and Tintoretto 168 Conventionalities 169 Monks and painters 169 The inns 170 Compensation for discomfort 170 Brave C of his Pictures 171 Louis Roche of Avignon 171 Dinner at the Peschiere 172 Custom-house officers 173 At Milan and Strasburg 173 Passing the Simplon 174 In London 174 A Reading in Lincoln's-inn-fields 174 Persons present 175 Success of the visit 175 In Paris with Macready 176 Origin of our private play 176 A recognition at Marseilles 177 Friendly Americans 177 On board for Genoa 177 Information for travellers 178

CHAPTER VIII. 1845.

Pages 179-200.

LAST MONTHS IN ITALY. AET. 33.

Birthday gift for eldest son 179 Suspicious "Characters" 180 Jesuit interferences 180 Birth of 1845 180 Travel southward 181 Carrara and Pisa 181 A wild journey 182 Birds of prey 183 A beggar and his staff 183 "My lord" loses temper 184 And has the worst of it 184 At Rome 184 The Campagna 185 Bay of Naples 185 Filth of Naples and Fondi 186 The Lazzaroni 186 False picturesque 187 Sad English news 187 True friends in calamity 188 At Florence 188 Wayside memorials and Landor's villa 189 Death of Bobus Smith 190 At Lord Holland's 190 Lord Palmerston's brother 190 Again at the Peschiere 190 To publish or not? 191 Thoughts of home 192 American friends 192 Deaths among English residents 193 Scarlet breeches out of place 193 Angus Fletcher 193 Complaint of a meek footman 194 Recalling Lady Holland 194 A touch of Portsmouth 195 Plans for meeting 196 Last letter from Genoa 196 Closing excitements and troubles 196 Italians hard at work 197 Returning by Switzerland 197 Passage of the St. Gothard 198 Splendours of Swiss scenery 198 Dangers of it 199 What is left behind the Alps 199 A week in Flanders 200

CHAPTER IX. 1845-1846.

Pages 201-221.

AGAIN IN ENGLAND. AET. 33-34.

Old hopes revived 201 Notions for a periodical 201 Proposed prospectus 202 Chances for and against it 203 Swept away by larger venture 203 Christmas book of 1845 204 D'Orsay and the courier 204 Another passage of Autobiography 204 More of the story of early years 205 Wish to try the stage 205 Applies to manager of Covent Garden 205 Sister Fanny in the secret 206 Stage studies and rehearsings 206 Strange news for Macready 207 Requisites of author and actor 208 Play chosen for private performance 209 Fanny Kelly and her theatre 209 Every Man in his Humour 209 The company of actors 210 Enjoying a character 210 Troubles of management 210 First and second performances 211 Of the acting 211 C. D. as performer 212 C. D. as manager 212 Two human mysteries 213 The mysteries explained 213 Training for the stage 213 At Broadstairs 214 Ramsgate entertainments 214 Birth of fourth son 215 Second raven's death 215 Intended daily paper 215 Disturbing engagements 216 Old ways interrupted 216 My appeal against the enterprise 217 Reply and issue 217 Interruption and renewal 218 The beginning and the end 218 Forming new resolve 219 Back to old scenes 219 Editorship ceased 219 Going to Switzerland 220 A happy saying 221 Leaves England 221

CHAPTER X. 1846.

Pages 222-243.

A HOME IN SWITZERLAND. AET. 34.

On the Rhine 222 German readers of Dickens 223 Travelling Englishmen 223 A hoaxing-match 224 House-hunting 224 Tempted by a mansion 225 Chooses a cottage 225 Earliest impressions 226 Lausanne described 227 Views from his farm 228 Under his windows 228 A sketch of Rosemont 229 Design as to work 230 The English colony 231 Unaccommodating carriage 232 A death in the lake 232 Boatman's narrative 233 The Theatre 233 The Prison 234 The Blind Institution 235 Interesting cases 235-240 Beginning work 240 First slip of New Novel 241 Sortes Shandyanae 242 The Christmas tale 242

CHAPTER XI. 1846.

Pages 244-260.

SWISS PEOPLE AND SCENERY. AET. 34.

The mountains and lake 244 The people and their manners 245 A country fete 246 Family sketch 246 Rifle-shooting 247 A marriage on the farm 248 Gunpowder festivities 248 Bride and mother 248 First number of Dombey 249 Christmas book 249 General idea for new story 250 Hints for illustration of it 250 Haldimands and Cerjats 251 Visit of Henry Hallam 251 Local news 252 Sight-seers from England 252 Trip to Chamounix 253 Mule-travelling 253 Mont Blanc range 254 Mer de Glace 255 Tete Noire pass 255 Help in an accident 256 English, French, and Prussian 256 Second number of Dombey 257 Castle of Chillon described 257 Honour to New Constitution 258 Political celebration 258 Malcontents 259 Good conduct of the people 259 Protestant and Catholic cantons 260 A timely word on Ireland 260

CHAPTER XII. 1846.

Pages 261-276.

SKETCHES CHIEFLY PERSONAL. AET. 34.

Home politics 261 The Whigs and Peel 261 Belief in emigration schemes 262 Mark Lemon 263 An incident of character 263 Hood's Tylney Hall 264 Trait of the Duke of Wellington 264 Mr. Watson of Rockingham 264 A recollection of reporting days 265 Returns to Dombey 265 Two English travellers 266 Party among the hills 267 A Smollett and Fielding hero 268 Milksop youths 268 Ogre and Lambs 268 Sir Joseph and his family 269 Lord Vernon 270 Passion for rifle-shooting 270 A wonderful carriage 270 The Ladies Taylor 271 Proposed Reading of first Dombey 272 A sketch from life 272 Two sisters and their books 272 Trip to Great St. Bernard 273 Ascent of the mountain 274 The Convent 274 Scene at the mountain top 274 Bodies found in the snow 275 The holy fathers 275 A tavern all but sign 276 The monk and Pickwick 276

CHAPTER XIII. 1846.

Pages 277-294.

LITERARY LABOUR AT LAUSANNE. AET. 34.

A picture completed 277 Great present want 277 Daily life 278 Imaginative needs 278 Self-judgments 279 The Now and the Hereafter 279 Fancies for Christmas books 280 Second number of Dombey 280 A personal revelation 281 Craving for streets 281 Food for fancy 282 Second Dombey done 282 Curious wants of the mind 283 Success of the Reading 283 First thought of Public Readings 284 Two stories in hand 285 Unexpected difficulties 286 Work under sensitive conditions 286 Alarm for Dombey 287 Doubts and misgivings 287 Change of scene to be tried 287 At Genoa 288 Disquietudes of authorship 288 Wanting counsel 289 At the worst 289 Report of Genoa 290 A new social experience 290 Feminine eccentricities 291 A ladies' dinner 291 Elephant-quellers 292 "Like a Manchester cotton mill" 292 Again at Rosemont 293 Visit of the Talfourds 293 Lodging his friends 294 Intentions and hope 294

CHAPTER XIV. 1846.

Pages 295-315.

REVOLUTION AT GENEVA. CHRISTMAS BOOK AND LAST DAYS IN SWITZERLAND. AET. 34.

An arrival of manuscript 295 A title 295 Large sale of Dombey 296 Again at Geneva 296 Rising against the Jesuits 297 Back to Lausanne 297 The fight in Geneva 298 Rifle against cannon 299 True objection to Roman-Catholicism 299 Genevese "aristocracy" 299 A lesson 300 Traces left by revolution 300 Abettors of revolution 301 Where the shoe pinches 301 Daily News' changes 302 My surrender of editorship 302 Thoughts for the future 303 Letters about Battle of Life 303 Jeffrey's opinion 303 Sketch of story 304 A difficulty in plot 305 Old characteristics 305 His own comments 306 Reply to criticism 307 Stanfield illustrations 307 Doubts of third part 308 Strengthening the close 308 Objections invited 309 Tendency to blank verse 309 Grave mistake by Leech 310 How dealt with by C. D. 310 First impulse 311 Kindly afterthought 311 Lord Gobden and free trade 312 Needs while at work 312 Pleasures of autumn 313 Striking tents 314 Sadness of leave-taking 314 Travelling to Paris 314 At Paris 315

CHAPTER XV. 1846-1847.

Pages 316-333.

THREE MONTHS IN PARIS. AET. 34-35.

A greeting from Lord Brougham 316 French Sunday 317 A house taken 317 Absurdity of the abode 318 Its former tenant 319 Sister Fanny's illness 319 Opinion of Elliotson 320 The king of the barricades 320 Unhealthy symptoms 321 Incident in the streets 321 The Parisian population 322 Americans and French 322 Unsettlement of plans 323 Eldest son's education 323 A true friend 323 Christmas tale on the stage 323 An alarming neighbour 325 Startling blue-devils 326 Approach to cannibalism 326 In London 326 Cheap edition of works 326 Suppressed dedication 326 Return to Paris 326 Begging-letter writers 327 Friendly services 327 Imaginary dialogue 328 A Boulogne reception 328 Cautions to a traveller 329 Citizen Dickens 330 Sight-seeing 330 At theatres 330 Visits to famous Frenchmen 331 Evening with Victor Hugo 331 Adventure with a coachman 332 Bibliotheque Royale 333 Premonitory symptoms 333 In London 334 A party at Gore-house 334 Illness of eldest son 335 Snuff-shop readings 336 Old charwoman's compliment 336

CHAPTER XVI. 1846-1848.

Pages 337-367.

DOMBEY AND SON. AET. 34-36.

Drift of the tale 337 Why undervalued 338 Mistakes of critics 338 Adherence to first design 338 Plan for Paul and his sister 339 For Dombey and his daughter 339 Proposed course of the story 340 "The stock of the soup" 340 Walter Gay and his fate 341 Decided favourably 341 Six pages too much 342 Omissions objected to 342 New chapter written 343 Portions sacrificed 343 Anxiety for the face of his hero 344 A suggested type of city-gentleman 344 Artist-fancies for Mr. Dombey 345-6 Dickens and his illustrators 347 A silly story repeated 347 Why noticed again 348 Facsimile of letter to Cruikshank 349-50 Dickens's words at the time 349 Cruikshank's thirty-four years after 350 A masterpiece of Dickens's writing 351 Picture of him at work 352 An experience of Ben Jonson's 352 How objections are taken 352 Shall Paul's life be prolonged? 353 A Reading of the second number 353 A number to be added to Paul's life 354 Failure of an illustration 354 What it should have been 355 The Mrs. Pipchin of his childhood 355 First thought of his Autobiography 356 Opening his fourth number 356 At Doctor Blimber's 357 Paul's school life 357 Paul and Florence 357 Jeffrey's forecast of the tale 358 Beginning his fifth number 359 What he will do with it 359 A damper to the spirits 359 Close of Paul's life 360 Jeffrey on Paul's death 361 Thoughts for Edith 362 Florence and Little Nell 362 Judgments and comparisons 363 Edith's first destiny 363 Doubts suggested 364 An important change 364 Diogenes remembered 365 Other characters 365 Blimber establishment 366 Supposed originals 366 Surmises entirely wrong 367

CHAPTER XVII. 1847-1852.

Pages 368-402.

SPLENDID STROLLING. AET. 35-40.

Birth of fifth son 368 Death of Lieut. Sydney Dickens 368 Proposed benefit for Leigh Hunt 369 The plays and actors 370 The manager 370 Troubles at rehearsals 371 Pains rewarded 371 Leigh Hunt's account 372 Receipts and expenses 373 Lord Lytton's prologue 373 Appearance of Mrs. Gamp 374 Fancy for a jeu d'esprit 374 Mrs. Gamp at the play 375 Failure of artists 375 An unfinished fancy 375 Mrs. Gamp with the strollers 376 Alarm of Mrs. Harris 376 Leigh Hunt and Poole 377 Ticklish society 378 Mrs. Gamp's cabman 378 George Cruikshank 379 Mr. Wilson the barber 379 Wig experiences 380 Fatigues of a powder ball 380 Manager's moustache and whiskers 381 Leech, Lemon, and Jerrold 381-2 Mrs. Gamp's dislike of "Dougladge" 382 Costello, Stone, and Egg 383 "Only the engine" 384 Cruikshank's Bottle 384 Profits of Dombey 385 Time come for savings 385 Proposed edition of old novels 385 Another dropped design 386 The Praslin tragedy 386 Penalty for seeing before others 387 Street-music 387 Margate theatre and manager 387 As to Christmas book 388 Delay found necessary 389 A literary Kitely 389 Meetings at Leeds and Glasgow 390 Book-friends 391 Sheriff Alison 391 Hospitable welcome 391 Scott-monument 392 Purchase of Shakespeare's house 392 Scheme to benefit Knowles 393 Plays rehearsed 394 Merry Wives chosen 394 Performances and result 394 At Knebworth-park 395 Guild of Literature and Art 396 Unfortunate omission 396 The farce that was to be written 396 The farce that was substituted 397 Not so Bad as we Seem 397 Travelling theatre and scenes 398 Success of the comedy 398 An incident at Sunderland 399 Troubles of a manager 399 Acting under difficulties 400 Scenery overturned 401 Effects of fright 401 Mr. Wilkie Collins 402

CHAPTER XVIII. 1848-1851.

Pages 403-441.

SEASIDE HOLIDAYS. AET. 36-39.

Louis Philippe dethroned 403 French missive from C. D. 404 Aspirations of Citizen Dickens 404 At Broadstairs 405 By rail to China 405 The Junk 406 Mariners on deck and in cabin 406 Perplexing questions 406 A toy-shop on the seas 407 Type of finality 407 A contrast 408 Home questions 408 Temperance agitations 409 The temptations to gin-shop 409 Necessity of dealing with them 409 Stages anterior to drunkenness 410 Cruikshank's satire 410 Realities of his pencil 411 Its one-sidedness 411 Dickens on Hogarth 412 Cause as well as effect 412 Exit of Gin-lane 412 Wisdom of the great painter 413 Late, but never too late 413 Dickens on designs by Leech 414 Originality of Leech 414 Superiority of his method 415 The requisites for it 415 Excuses for the rising generation 416 Intellectual juvenility 416 A dangerous youth 417 What Leech will be remembered for 417 Odd adventures 418 Pony-chaise accident 418 Parallel to Squeers 419 Strenuous idleness 419 French philosophy 420 Hint for Mr. Taine 420 The better for idleness 421 A favourite spot 421 At Brighton 421 With mad folks and doctors 422 A name for his new book 422 At Broadstairs 422 Troubles in his writing 423 A letter in character 423 At Bonchurch 425 The Rev. James White 425 Mirth and melancholy 425 Mrs. James White 426 First impressions of Undercliff 426 Talfourd made a judge 427 Dickens's affection for him 427 Church-school examination 428 Dinners and pic-nics 428 The comedian Regnier 429 When acting is genuine 429 Doubts as to health 429 Arrivals and departures 430 A startling revelation 431 Effects of Bonchurch climate 431 Utter prostration 431 Difficulties of existing there 432 Distrust of doctors 433 Other side of picture 433 What I observed at the time 434 From the Copperfield MS. 434 Mr. Browne's sketch of Micawber 435 Accident to John Leech 435 Its consequences 435 Depressing influences 436 At Broadstairs 436 Railway travellers 437 The exhibition year 438 A Copperfield banquet 438 C. D. on money values 439 His leisure reading 439 A correction for Carlyle 440 Good criticism 441 Thoughts of a new book 441 The old restlessness 441 Beginning on a Friday 441

CHAPTER XIX. 1848-1850.

Pages 442-456.

HAUNTED MAN AND HOUSEHOLD WORDS. AET. 36-40.

Maturing book for Christmas 442 Friendly plea for Mr. Macrone 442 Completion of Christmas story 443 Dropped motto 443 The "ghost" and the "bargain" 444 The Tetterby family 445 Teachings of the little tale 445 His own statement of its intention 446 Forgive that you may forget 446 Copperfield sales 447 A letter from Russia 448 Translation into Russian 448 Sympathy of Siberia 448 The Periodical taking form 449 A design for it described 449 Original and selected matter 449 A Shadow for everywhere 450 Hopes of success 450 Doubts respecting it 451 Incompatibility of design 451 New design chosen 452 Assistant editor appointed 453 Titles proposed 453 Appearance of first number 454 Earliest contributors 454 Opinion of Mr. Sala 454 Child's dream of a star 455 A fancy derived from childhood 456

CHAPTER XX. 1848-1851.

Pages 457-494.

LAST YEARS IN DEVONSHIRE TERRACE. AET. 36-39.

Sentiment about places 457 Confidences 458 Personal revelations 458 Early memories 459 At his sister's sick-bed 459 Last thoughts 460 Sister's death 460 Book to be written in first person 461 Riding over Salisbury Plain 461 Visiting scene of a tragedy 462 First sees Yarmouth 462 Birth of sixth son 462 Notion for a character 463 Choosing a title 463 "Mag's Diversions" 464 "Copperfield" chosen 464 Varieties of it proposed 465 Title finally determined 466 Difficulties of opening 466 Rogers and Benedict 466 Wit of Fonblanque 467 Procter and Macready 467 The Sheridans 468 Lord Byron's Ada 469 Dinner to Halevy and Scribe 469 Brougham and "the Punch people" 469 The Duke at Vauxhall 470 Carlyle and Thackeray 470 Judicious change of a "tag" 471 A fact for a biographer 471 Marryat's delight with children 472 Bulwer Lytton and Monckton Milnes 472 Lords Nugent and Dudley Stuart 472-3 Kemble, Harness, and Dyce 473 Mrs. Siddons and John Kemble 473 Comparison and good distinction 474 Mazzini and Edinburgh friends 474 Artist-acquaintance 475 Visitors at his house 475 Friends from America 476 M. Van de Weyer 476 Ambition to see into heaven 477 Literature and art in the city 477 Doubtful compliment 478 A hint for London citizens 478 Letter against public executions 479 American observer in England 479 Marvels of English manners 480 A letter from Rockingham 481 Private theatricals 481 Major Bentley and General Boxall 481-2 A family scene 482 Doing too much 483 Death of Francis Jeffrey 483 Progress of work 484 The child-wife 484 A run to Paris 484 Banker or proctor 485 Doubts as to Dora settled 486 Of Rogers and Landor 486 A third daughter born 487 At Great Malvern 487 Macready's farewell 488 Experience of a brother author 488 The Home at Shepherd's-bush 488 Father's illness 489 Death of John Dickens 489 Tribute by his son 490 Theatrical-fund dinner 490 Plea for small actors 491 Remembering the forgotten 491 Death of his little daughter 492 Difficult tasks in life 492 Dora's grave 493 Advocating sanitary reform 493 Lord Shaftesbury 494 Realities of his books to Dickens 494



THE LIFE

OF

CHARLES DICKENS.



CHAPTER I.

AMERICAN NOTES.

1842.

Return from America—Longfellow in England—Thirty Years Ago—At Broadstairs—Preparing Notes—Fancy for the Opening of Chuzzlewit—Reading Tennyson—Theatricals at Margate—A New Protege—Proposed Dedication—Sea-bathing and Authorship—Emigrants in Canada—Coming to the End—Rejected Motto for Notes—Return to London—Cheerless Visit—The Mingled Yarn—Scene at a Funeral—The Suppressed Introductory Chapter to the Notes, now first printed—Jeffrey's Opinion of the Notes—Dickens's Experience of America in 1868.

THE reality did not fall short of the anticipation of home. His return was the occasion of unbounded enjoyment; and what he had planned before sailing as the way we should meet, received literal fulfilment. By the sound of his cheery voice I first knew that he was come; and from my house we went together to Maclise, also "without a moment's warning." A Greenwich dinner in which several friends (Talfourd, Milnes, Procter, Maclise, Stanfield, Marryat, Barham, Hood, and Cruikshank among them) took part, and other immediate greetings, followed; but the most special celebration was reserved for autumn, when, by way of challenge to what he had seen while abroad, a home-journey was arranged with Stanfield, Maclise, and myself for his companions, into such of the most striking scenes of a picturesque English county as the majority of us might not before have visited: Cornwall being ultimately chosen.

Before our departure he was occupied by his preparation of the American Notes; and to the same interval belongs the arrival in London of Mr. Longfellow, who became his guest, and (for both of us I am privileged to add) our attached friend. Longfellow's name was not then the pleasant and familiar word it has since been in England; but he had already written several of his most felicitous pieces, and he possessed all the qualities of delightful companionship, the culture and the charm, which have no higher type or example than the accomplished and genial American. He reminded me, when lately again in England, of two experiences out of many we had enjoyed together this quarter of a century before. One of them was a day at Rochester, when, met by one of those prohibitions which are the wonder of visitors and the shame of Englishmen, we overleapt gates and barriers, and, setting at defiance repeated threats of all the terrors of law coarsely expressed to us by the custodian of the place, explored minutely the castle ruins. The other was a night among those portions of the population which outrage law and defy its terrors all the days of their lives, the tramps and thieves of London; when, under guidance and protection of the most trusted officers of the two great metropolitan prisons afforded to us by Mr. Chesterton and Lieut. Tracey, we went over the worst haunts of the most dangerous classes. Nor will it be unworthy of remark, in proof that attention is not drawn vainly to such scenes, that, upon Dickens going over them a dozen years later when he wrote a paper about them for his Household Words, he found important changes effected whereby these human dens, if not less dangerous, were become certainly more decent. On the night of our earlier visit, Maclise, who accompanied us, was struck with such sickness on entering the first of the Mint lodging-houses in the borough, that he had to remain, for the time we were in them, under guardianship of the police outside. Longfellow returned home by the Great Western from Bristol on the 21st of October, enjoying as he passed through Bath the hospitality of Landor; and at the end of the following week we started on our Cornish travel.

But what before this had occupied Dickens in the writing way must now be told. Not long after his reappearance amongst us, his house being still in the occupation of Sir John Wilson, he went to Broadstairs, taking with him the letters from which I have quoted so largely to help him in preparing his American Notes; and one of his first announcements to me (18th of July) shows not only this labour in progress, but the story he was under engagement to begin in November working in his mind. "The subjects at the beginning of the book are of that kind that I can't dash at them, and now and then they fret me in consequence. When I come to Washington, I am all right. The solitary prison at Philadelphia is a good subject, though; I forgot that for the moment. Have you seen the Boston chapter yet? . . . I have never been in Cornwall either. A mine certainly; and a letter for that purpose shall be got from Southwood Smith. I have some notion of opening the new book in the lantern of a lighthouse!" A letter a couple of months later (16th of Sept.) recurs to that proposed opening of his story which after all he laid aside; and shows how rapidly he was getting his American Notes into shape. "At the Isle of Thanet races yesterday I saw—oh! who shall say what an immense amount of character in the way of inconceivable villainy and blackguardism! I even got some new wrinkles in the way of showmen, conjurors, pea-and-thimblers, and trampers generally. I think of opening my new book on the coast of Cornwall, in some terribly dreary iron-bound spot. I hope to have finished the American book before the end of next month; and we will then together fly down into that desolate region." Our friends having Academy engagements to detain them, we had to delay a little; and I meanwhile turn back to his letters to observe his progress with his Notes, and other employments or enjoyments of the interval. They require no illustration that they will not themselves supply: but I may remark that the then collected Poems of Tennyson had become very favourite reading with him; and that while in America Mr. Mitchell the comedian had given him a small white shaggy terrier, who bore at first the imposing name of Timber Doodle, and became a great domestic pet and companion.

"I have been reading" (7th of August) "Tennyson all this morning on the seashore. Among other trifling effects, the waters have dried up as they did of old, and shown me all the mermen and mermaids, at the bottom of the ocean; together with millions of queer creatures, half-fish and half-fungus, looking down into all manner of coral caves and seaweed conservatories; and staring in with their great dull eyes at every open nook and loop-hole. Who else, too, could conjure up such a close to the extraordinary and as Landor would say 'most wonderful' series of pictures in the 'dream of fair women,' as—

"'Squadrons and squares of men in brazen plates, Scaffolds, still sheets of water, divers woes, Ranges of glimmering vaults with iron grates, And hushed seraglios!'

"I am getting on pretty well, but it was so glittering and sunshiny yesterday that I was forced to make holiday." Four days later: "I have not written a word this blessed day. I got to New York yesterday, and think it goes as it should . . . Little doggy improves rapidly, and now jumps over my stick at the word of command. I have changed his name to Snittle Timbery, as more sonorous and expressive. He unites with the rest of the family in cordial regards and loves. Nota Bene. The Margate theatre is open every evening, and the Four Patagonians (see Goldsmith's Essays) are performing thrice a week at Ranelagh . . ."

A visit from me was at this time due, to which these were held out as inducements; and there followed what it was supposed I could not resist, a transformation into the broadest farce of a deep tragedy by a dear friend of ours. "Now you really must come. Seeing only is believing, very often isn't that, and even Being the thing falls a long way short of believing it. Mrs. Nickleby herself once asked me, as you know, if I really believed there ever was such a woman; but there'll be no more belief, either in me or my descriptions, after what I have to tell of our excellent friend's tragedy, if you don't come and have it played again for yourself 'by particular desire.' We saw it last night, and oh! if you had but been with us! Young Betty, doing what the mind of man without my help never can conceive, with his legs like padded boot-trees wrapped up in faded yellow drawers, was the hero. The comic man of the company enveloped in a white sheet, with his head tied with red tape like a brief and greeted with yells of laughter whenever he appeared, was the venerable priest. A poor toothless old idiot at whom the very gallery roared with contempt when he was called a tyrant, was the remorseless and aged Creon. And Ismene being arrayed in spangled muslin trowsers very loose in the legs and very tight in the ankles, such as Fatima would wear in Blue Beard, was at her appearance immediately called upon for a song. After this, can you longer. . . ?"

With the opening of September I had renewed report of his book, and of other matters. "The Philadelphia chapter I think very good, but I am sorry to say it has not made as much in print as I hoped . . . In America they have forged a letter with my signature, which they coolly declare appeared in the Chronicle with the copyright circular; and in which I express myself in such terms as you may imagine, in reference to the dinners and so forth. It has been widely distributed all over the States; and the felon who invented it is a 'smart man' of course. You are to understand that it is not done as a joke, and is scurrilously reviewed. Mr. Park Benjamin begins a lucubration upon it with these capitals, DICKENS IS A FOOL, AND A LIAR. . . . I have a new protege, in the person of a wretched deaf and dumb boy whom I found upon the sands the other day, half dead, and have got (for the present) into the union infirmary at Minster. A most deplorable case."

On the 14th he told me: "I have pleased myself very much to-day in the matter of Niagara. I have made the description very brief (as it should be), but I fancy it is good. I am beginning to think over the introductory chapter, and it has meanwhile occurred to me that I should like, at the beginning of the volumes, to put what follows on a blank page. I dedicate this Book to those friends of mine in America, who, loving their country, can bear the truth, when it is written good humouredly and in a kind spirit. What do you think? Do you see any objection?"

My reply is to be inferred from what he sent back on the 20th. "I don't quite see my way towards an expression in the dedication of any feeling in reference to the American reception. Of course I have always intended to glance at it, gratefully, in the end of the book; and it will have its place in the introductory chapter, if we decide for that. Would it do to put in, after 'friends in America,' who giving me a welcome I must ever gratefully and proudly remember, left my judgment free, and who, loving, &c. If so, so be it."

Before the end of the month he wrote: "For the last two or three days I have been rather slack in point of work; not being in the vein. To-day I had not written twenty lines before I rushed out (the weather being gorgeous) to bathe. And when I have done that, it is all up with me in the way of authorship until to-morrow. The little dog is in the highest spirits; and jumps, as Mr. Kenwigs would say, perpetivally. I have had letters by the Britannia from Felton, Prescott, Mr. Q, and others, all very earnest and kind. I think you will like what I have written on the poor emigrants and their ways as I literally and truly saw them on the boat from Quebec to Montreal."

This was a passage, which, besides being in itself as attractive as any in his writings, gives such perfect expression to a feeling that underlies them all, that I subjoin it in a note.[63] On board this Canadian steamboat he encountered crowds of poor emigrants and their children; and such was their patient kindness and cheerful endurance, in circumstances where the easy-living rich could hardly fail to be monsters of impatience and selfishness, that it suggested to him a reflection than which it was not possible to have written anything more worthy of observation, or more absolutely true. Jeremy Taylor has the same philosophy in his lesson on opportunities, but here it was beautified by the example with all its fine touches. It made us read Rich and Poor by new translation.

The printers were now hard at work, and in the last week of September he wrote: "I send you proofs as far as Niagara . . . I am rather holiday-making this week . . . taking principal part in a regatta here yesterday, very pretty and gay indeed. We think of coming up in time for Macready's opening, when perhaps you will give us a chop; and of course you and Mac will dine with us the next day? I shall leave nothing of the book to do after coming home, please God, but the two chapters on slavery and the people which I could manage easily in a week, if need were . . . The policeman who supposed the Duke of Brunswick to be one of the swell mob, ought instantly to be made an inspector. The suspicion reflects the highest credit (I seriously think) on his penetration and judgment." Three days later: "For the last two days we have had gales blowing from the north-east, and seas rolling on us that drown the pier. To-day it is tremendous. Such a sea was never known here at this season, and it is running in at this moment in waves of twelve feet high. You would hardly know the place. But we shall be punctual to your dinner hour on Saturday. If the wind should hold in the same quarter, we may be obliged to come up by land; and in that case I should start the caravan at six in the morning. . . . What do you think of this for my title—American Notes for General Circulation; and of this motto?