Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2246 page)

“The quantity of each number that should be written by myself would be a matter for discussion and arrangement. Of course I should pledge and bind myself upon that head. Nobody but myself would ever pursue
these ideas
, but I must have assistance of course, and there must be some contents of a different kind. Their general nature might be agreed upon beforehand, but I should stipulate that this assistance is chosen solely by myself, and that the contents of every number are as much under my own control, and subject to as little interference, as those of a number of
Pickwick
or
Nickleby
.

“In order to give fresh novelty and interest to this undertaking, I should be ready to contract to go at any specified time (say in the midsummer or autumn of the year, when a sufficient quantity of matter in advance should have been prepared, or earlier if it were thought fit) either to Ireland or to America, and to write from thence a series of papers descriptive of the places and people I see, introducing local tales, traditions, and legends, something after the plan of Washington Irving’s
Alhambra
. I should wish the republication of these papers in a separate form, with others to render the subject complete (if we should deem it advisable), to form part of the arrangement for the work; and I should wish the same provision to be made for the republication of the Gog and Magog series, or indeed any that I undertook.

“This is a very rough and slight outline of the project I have in view. I am ready to talk the matter over, to give any further explanations, to consider any suggestions, or to go into the details of the subject immediately. I say nothing of the novelty of such a publication nowadays, or its chances of success. Of course I think them very great, very great indeed, — almost beyond calculation, — or I should not seek to bind myself to anything so extensive.

“The heads of the terms upon which I should be prepared to go into this undertaking would be — That I be made a proprietor in the work and a sharer in the profits. That when I bind myself to write a certain portion of every number, I am insured,
for
that writing in every number, a certain sum of money. That those who assist me, and contribute the remainder of every number, shall be paid by the publishers immediately after its appearance, according to a scale to be calculated and agreed upon, on presenting my order for the amount to which they may be respectively entitled. Or, if the publishers prefer it, that they agree to pay me a certain sum for the
whole
of every number, and leave me to make such arrangements for that part which I may not write, as I think best. Of course I should require that for these payments, or any other outlay connected with the work, I am not held accountable in any way; and that no portion of them is to be considered as received by me on account of the profits. I need not add that some arrangement would have to be made, if I undertake my Travels, relative to the expenses of traveling.

“Now, I want our publishing friends to take these things into consideration, and to give me the views and proposals they would be disposed to entertain when they have maturely considered the matter.”

The result of their consideration was, on the whole, satisfactory. An additional fifteen hundred pounds was to be paid at the close of
Nickleby
, the new adventure was to be undertaken, and Cattermole was to be joined with Browne as its illustrator. Nor was its plan much modified before starting, though it was felt by us all that, for the opening numbers at least, Dickens would have to be sole contributor, and that, whatever otherwise might be its attraction, or the success of the detached papers proposed by him, some reinforcement of them from time to time, by means of a story with his name continued at reasonable if not regular intervals, would be found absolutely necessary. Without any such planned story, however, the work did actually begin, its course afterwards being determined by circumstances stronger than any project he had formed. The agreement, drawn up in contemplation of a mere miscellany of detached papers or essays, and in which no mention of any story appeared, was signed at the end of March; and its terms were such as to place him in his only proper and legitimate position in regard to all such contracts, of being necessarily a gainer in any case, and, in the event of success, the greatest gainer of all concerned in the undertaking. All the risk of every kind was to be undergone by the publishers; and, as part of the expenses to be defrayed by them of each weekly number, he was to receive fifty pounds. Whatever the success or failure, this was always to be paid. The numbers were then to be accounted for separately, and half the realized profits paid to him, the other half going to the publishers; each number being held strictly responsible for itself, and the loss upon it, supposing any, not carried to the general account. The work was to be continued for twelve months certain, with leave to the publishers then to close it; but if they elected to go on, he was himself bound to the enterprise for five years, and the ultimate copyright as well as profit was to be equally divided.

Six weeks before signature of this agreement, while a title was still undetermined, I had this letter from him: “I will dine with you. I intended to spend the evening in strict meditation (as I did last night); but perhaps I had better go out, lest all work and no play should make me a dull boy.
I
have a list of titles too, but the final title I have determined on — or something very near it. I have a notion of this old file in the queer house, opening the book by an account of himself, and, among other peculiarities, of his affection for an old quaint queer-cased clock; showing how that when they have sat alone together in the long evenings, he has got accustomed to its voice, and come to consider it as the voice of a friend; how its striking, in the night, has seemed like an assurance to him that it was still, a cheerful watcher at his chamber-door; and now its very face has seemed to have something of welcome in its dusty features, and to relax from its grimness when he has looked at it from his chimney-corner. Then I mean to tell how that he has kept odd manuscripts in the old, deep, dark, silent closet where the weights are; and taken them from thence to read (mixing up his enjoyments with some notion of his clock); and how, when the club came to be formed, they, by reason of their punctuality and his regard for this dumb servant, took their name from it. And thus I shall call the book either
Old Humphrey’s Clock
, or
Master Humphrey’s Clock;
beginning with a woodcut of old Humphrey and his clock, and explaining the why and wherefore. All Humphrey’s own papers will be dated then From my clock-side, and I have divers thoughts about the best means of introducing the others. I thought about this all day yesterday and all last night till I went to bed. I am sure I can make a good thing of this opening, which I have thoroughly warmed up to in consequence.”

A few days later: “I incline rather more to
Master Humphrey’s Clock
than
Old Humphrey’s
— if so be that there is no danger of the pensive confounding master with a boy.” After two days more: “I was thinking all yesterday, and have begun at
Master Humphrey
to-day.” Then, a week later: “I have finished the first number, but have not been able to do more in the space than lead up to the Giants, who are just on the scene.”

CHAPTER XII.

THE OLD CURIOSITY SHOP.

1840-1841.

Visit to Walter Landor — First Thought of Little Nell — Hopeful of Master Humphrey — A Title for the Child-Story — First Sale of
Master Humphrey’s Clock
— Its Original Plan abandoned — Reasons for Original Plan abandoned — Reasons for this — To be limited to One Story — Disadvantages of Weekly Publication — A Favorite Description — In Bevis Marks for Sampson Brass — At Lawn House, Broadstairs — Dedication of his First Volume to Rogers — Chapters 43-45 — Dick Swiveller and the Marchioness — Masterpiece of Kindly Fun — Closing of the Tale — Effect upon the Writer — Making-believe very much — The End approaching — The Realities of Fiction — Death of Little Nell — My Share in the Close — A Suggestion adopted by him — Success of the Story — Useful Lessons — Its Mode of Construction — Character and Characteristics — The Art of it — A Recent Tribute — Harte’s “Dickens in Camp.”

A day or two after the date of the last letter quoted, Dickens and his wife, with Maclise and myself, visited Landor in Bath, and it was during three happy days we passed together there that the fancy which was shortly to take the form of Little Nell first occurred to its author,
— but as yet with the intention only of making out of it a tale of a few chapters. On the 1st of March we returned from Bath; and on the 4th I had this letter: “If you can manage to give me a call in the course of the day or evening, I wish you would. I am labouriously turning over in my mind how I can best effect the improvement we spoke of last night, which I will certainly make by hook or by crook, and which I would like you to see
before
it goes finally to the printer’s. I have determined not to put that witch-story into number 3, for I am by no means satisfied of the effect of its contrast with Humphrey. I think of lengthening Humphrey, finishing the description of the society, and closing with the little child-story, which is sure to be effective, especially after the old man’s quiet way.” Then there came hard upon this: “What do you think of the following double title for the beginning of that little tale? ‘Personal Adventures of Master Humphrey:
The Old Curiosity Shop
.’ I have thought of
Master Humphrey’s Tale
,
Master Humphrey’s Narrative
,
A Passage in Master Humphrey’s Life
— but I don’t think any does as well as this. I have also thought of
The Old Curiosity Dealer and the Child
instead of
The Old Curiosity Shop
. Perpend. Topping waits.” —
 
— And thus was taking gradual form, with less direct consciousness of design on his own part than I can remember in any other instance of all his career, a story which was to add largely to his popularity, more than any other of his works to make the bond between himself and his readers one of personal attachment, and very widely to increase the sense entertained of his powers as a pathetic as well as humorous writer.

He had not written more than two or three chapters, when the capability of the subject for more extended treatment than he had at first proposed to give to it pressed itself upon him, and he resolved to throw everything else aside, devoting himself to the one story only. There were other strong reasons for this. Of the first number of the
Clock
nearly seventy thousand were sold; but with the discovery that there was no continuous tale the orders at once diminished, and a change must have been made even if the material and means for it had not been ready. There had been an interval of three numbers between the first and second chapters, which the society of Mr. Pickwick and the two Wellers made pleasant enough; but after the introduction of Dick Swiveller there were three consecutive chapters; and in the continued progress of the tale to its close there were only two more breaks, one between the fourth and fifth chapters and one between the eighth and ninth, pardonable and enjoyable now for the sake of Sam and his father. The reintroduction of these old favorites, it will have been seen, formed part of his original plan; of his abandonment of which his own description may be added, from his preface to the collected edition: “The first chapter of this tale appeared in the fourth number of
Master Humphrey’s Clock
, when I had already been made uneasy by the desultory character of that work, and when, I believe, my readers had thoroughly participated in the feeling. The commencement of a story was a great satisfaction to me, and I had reason to believe that my readers participated in this feeling too. Hence, being pledged to some interruptions and some pursuit of the original design, I set cheerfully about disentangling myself from those impediments as fast as I could; and, this done, from that time until its completion
The Old Curiosity Shop
was written and published from week to week, in weekly parts.”

He had very early himself become greatly taken with it. “I am very glad indeed,” he wrote to me after the first half-dozen chapters, “that you think so well of the
Curiosity Shop
, and especially that what may be got out of Dick strikes you. I
mean
to make much of him. I feel the story extremely myself, which I take to be a good sign; and am already warmly interested in it. I shall run it on now for four whole numbers together, to give it a fair chance.” Every step lightened the road as it became more and more real with each character that appeared in it, and I still recall the glee with which he told me what he intended to do not only with Dick Swiveller, but with Septimus Brass, changed afterwards to Sampson. Undoubtedly, however, Dick was his favorite. “Dick’s behavior in the matter of Miss Wackles will, I hope, give you satisfaction,” is the remark of another of his letters. “I cannot yet discover that his aunt has any belief in him, or is in the least degree likely to send him a remittance, so that he will probably continue to be the sport of destiny.” His difficulties were the quickly recurring times of publication, the confined space in each number that yet had to contribute its individual effect, and (from the suddenness with which he had begun) the impossibility of getting in advance. “I was obliged to cramp most dreadfully what I thought a pretty idea in the last chapter. I hadn’t room to turn:” to this or a similar effect his complaints are frequent, and of the vexations named it was by far the worst. But he steadily bore up against all, and made a triumph of the little story.