[Sidenote: Mr. W. H. Wills.]
OFFICE OF "HOUSEHOLD WORDS," _Christmas Eve, 1852._
MY DEAR WILLS,
I have gone carefully through the number--an awful one for the amount of correction required--and have made everything right. If my mind could have been materialised, and drawn along the tops of all the spikes on the outside of the Queen"s Bench prison, it could not have been more agonised than by the ----, which, for imbecility, carelessness, slovenly composition, relatives without antecedents, universal chaos, and one absorbing whirlpool of jolter-headedness, beats anything in print and paper I have ever "gone at" in my life.
I shall come and see how you are to-morrow. Meantime everything is in perfect trim in these parts, and I have sent down to Stacey to come here and top up with a final interview before I go.
Just after I had sent the messenger off to you, yesterday, concerning the toll-taker memoranda, the other idea came into my head, and in the most obliging manner came out of it.
Ever faithfully yours.
P.S.--Here is ---- perpetually flitting about Brydges Street, and hovering in the neighbourhood, with a veil of secrecy drawn down over his chin, so ludicrously transparent, that I can"t help laughing while he looks at me.
[Sidenote: Mr. G. Linnaeus Banks.]
TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _Sunday, Dec. 26th, 1852._
MY DEAR SIR,
I will not attempt to tell you how affected and gratified I am by the intelligence your kind letter conveys to me. Nothing would be more welcome to me than such a mark of confidence and approval from such a source, nothing more precious, or that I could set a higher worth upon.
I hasten to return the gauges, of which I have marked one as the size of the finger, from which this token will never more be absent as long as I live.
With feelings of the liveliest grat.i.tude and cordiality towards the many friends who so honour me, and with many thanks to you for the genial earnestness with which you represent them,
I am, my dear Sir, very faithfully yours.
P.S.--Will you do me the favour to inform the dinner committee that a friend of mine, Mr. Clement, of Shrewsbury, is very anxious to purchase a ticket for the dinner, and that if they will be so good as to forward one for him to me I shall feel much obliged.
FOOTNOTE:
[14] The great Duke of Wellington"s funeral.
1853.
NARRATIVE.
In this year, Charles d.i.c.kens was still writing "Bleak House," and went to Brighton for a short time in the spring. In May he had an attack of illness, a return of an old trouble of an inflammatory pain in the side, which was short but very severe while it lasted. Immediately on his recovery, early in June, a departure from London for the summer was resolved upon. He had decided upon trying Boulogne this year for his holiday sojourn, and as soon as he was strong enough to travel, he, his wife, and sister-in-law went there in advance of the family, taking up their quarters at the Hotel des Bains, to find a house, which was speedily done. The pretty little Villa des Moulineaux, and its excellent landlord, at once took his fancy, and in that house, and in another on the same ground, also belonging to M. Beaucourt, he pa.s.sed three very happy summers. And he became as much attached to "Our French Watering Place" as to "Our English" one. Having written a sketch of Broadstairs under that name in "Household Words," he did the same of Boulogne under the former t.i.tle.
During the summer, besides his other work, he was employed in dictating "The Child"s History of England," which he published in "Household Words," and which was the only book he ever wrote by dictation. But, as at Broadstairs and other seaside homes, he had always plenty of relaxation and enjoyment in the visits of his friends. In September he finished "Bleak House," and in October he started with Mr. Wilkie Collins and Mr. Egg from Boulogne, on an excursion through parts of Switzerland and Italy; his wife and family going home at the same time, and he himself returning to Tavistock House early in December. His eldest son, Charles, had left Eton some time before this, and had gone for the completion of his education to Leipsic. He was to leave Germany at the end of the year, therefore it was arranged that he should meet the travellers in Paris on their homeward journey, and they all returned together.
Just before Christmas he went to Birmingham in fulfilment of an offer which he had made at the dinner given to him at Birmingham on the 6th of January (of which he writes to Mr. Macready in the first letter that follows here), to give two readings from his own books for the benefit of the New Midland Inst.i.tute. They were his first public readings. He read "The Christmas Carol" on one evening, and "The Cricket on the Hearth" on the next, before enormous audiences. The success was so great, and the sum of money realised for the inst.i.tute so large, that he consented to give a second reading of "The Christmas Carol," remaining another night in Birmingham for the purpose, on the condition that seats were reserved, at prices within their means, for the working men. And to his great satisfaction they formed a large proportion, and were among the most enthusiastic and appreciative of his audience. He was accompanied by his wife and sister-in-law, and on this occasion a breakfast was given to him after his last reading, at which a silver flower-basket, duly inscribed, was very gracefully presented to _Mrs._ Charles d.i.c.kens.
The letters in this year require little explanation. Those to his wife and sister-in-law and Mr. Wills give a little history of his Italian journey. At Naples he found his excellent friend Sir James Emerson Tennent, with his wife and daughter, with whom he joined company in the ascent of Vesuvius.
The two letters to M. Regnier, the distinguished actor of the Theatre Francais--with whom Charles d.i.c.kens had formed a sincere friendship during his first residence in Paris--on the subject of a projected benefit to Miss Kelly, need no further explanation.
Mr. John Delane, editor of _The Times_, and always a highly-esteemed friend of Charles d.i.c.kens, had given him an introduction to a school at Boulogne, kept by two English gentlemen, one a clergyman and the other a former Eton master, the Rev. W. Bewsher and Mr. Gibson. He had at various times four boys at this school, and very frequently afterwards he expressed his grat.i.tude to Mr. Delane for having given him the introduction, which turned out so satisfactory in every respect.
The letter of grateful acknowledgment from Mr. Poole and Charles d.i.c.kens to Lord Russell was for the pension for which the old dramatic author was indebted to that n.o.bleman, and which enabled him to live comfortably until the end of his life.
A note to Mr. Marcus Stone was sent with a copy of "The Child"s History of England." The sketch referred to was one of "Jo"," in "Bleak House,"
which showed great feeling and artistic promise, since fully fulfilled by the young painter, but very remarkable in a boy so young as he was at that time. The letter to Mr. Stanfield, in seafaring language, is a specimen of a playful way in which he frequently addressed that dear friend.
[Sidenote: Mr. W. H. Wills.]
"A curiosity from _him_. No date. No signature."--W. H. H.
MY DEAR WILLS,
I have not a shadow of a doubt about Miss Martineau"s story. It is certain to tell. I think it very effectively, admirably done; a fine plain purpose in it; quite a singular novelty. For the last story in the Christmas number it will be great. I couldn"t wish for a better.
Mrs. Gaskell"s ghost story I have got this morning; have not yet read.
It is long.
[Sidenote: Mr. Clarkson Stanfield.]
H.M.S. _Tavistock, January 2nd, 1853._
Yoho, old salt! Neptun" ahoy! You don"t forget, messmet, as you was to meet d.i.c.k Sparkler and Mark Porpuss on the fok"sle of the good ship _Owssel Words_, Wednesday next, half-past four? Not you; for when did Stanfell ever pa.s.s his word to go anywheers and not come! Well. Belay, my heart of oak, belay! Come alongside the _Tavistock_ same day and hour, "stead of _Owssel Words_. Hail your shipmets, and they"ll drop over the side and join you, like two new shillings a-droppin" into the purser"s pocket. d.a.m.n all lubberly boys and swabs, and give me the lad with the tarry trousers, which shines to me like di"mings bright!
[Sidenote: Mr. W. C. Macready.]
TAVISTOCK HOUSE, _Friday Night, Jan. 14th, 1853._
MY DEAREST MACREADY,
I have been much affected by the receipt of your kindest and best of letters; for I know out of the midst of what anxieties it comes to me, and I appreciate such remembrance from my heart. You and yours are always with us, however. It is no new thing for you to have a part in any scene of my life. It very rarely happens that a day pa.s.ses without our thoughts and conversation travelling to Sherborne. We are so much there that I cannot tell you how plainly I see you as I write.
I know you would have been full of sympathy and approval if you had been present at Birmingham, and that you would have concurred in the tone I tried to take about the eternal duties of the arts to the people. I took the liberty of putting the court and that kind of thing out of the question, and recognising nothing _but_ the arts and the people. The more we see of life and its brevity, and the world and its varieties, the more we know that no exercise of our abilities in any art, but the addressing of it to the great ocean of humanity in which we are drops, and not to bye-ponds (very stagnant) here and there, ever can or ever will lay the foundations of an endurable retrospect. Is it not so? _You_ should have as much practical information on this subject, now, my dear friend, as any man.
My dearest Macready, I cannot forbear this closing word. I still look forward to our meeting as we used to do in the happy times we have known together, so far as your old hopefulness and energy are concerned.
And I think I never in my life have been more glad to receive a sign, than I have been to hail that which I find in your handwriting.
Some of your old friends at Birmingham are full of interest and enquiry.
Kate and Georgina send their dearest loves to you, and to Miss Macready, and to all the children. I am ever, and no matter where I am--and quite as much in a crowd as alone--my dearest Macready,