Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2304 page)

That was on Saturday the 25th of March, 1848, and may be my last reference to
Dombey
until the book, in its place with the rest, finds critical allusion when I close. But as the confidences revealed in this chapter have dealt wholly with the leading currents of interest, there is yet room for a word on incidental persons in the story, of whom I have seen other so-called confidences alleged which it will be only right to state have really no authority. And first let me say what unquestionable evidence these characters give of the unimpaired freshness, richness, variety, and fitness of Dickens’s invention at this time. Glorious Captain Cuttle, laying his head to the wind and fighting through everything; his friend Jack Bunsby,
with a head too ponderous to lay-to, and so falling victim to the inveterate MacStinger; good-hearted, modest, considerate Toots, whose brains rapidly go as his whiskers come, but who yet gets back from contact with the world, in his shambling way, some fragments of the sense pumped out of him by the forcing Blimbers; breathless Susan Nipper, beaming Polly Toodle, the plaintive Wickham, and the awful Pipchin, each with her duty in the starched Dombey household so nicely appointed as to seem born for only that; simple thoughtful old Gills and his hearty young lad of a nephew; Mr. Toodle and his children, with the charitable grinder’s decline and fall; Miss Tox, obsequious flatterer from nothing but good-nature; spectacled and analytic, but not unkind Miss Blimber; and the good droning dull benevolent Doctor himself, withering even the fruits of his well-spread dinner-table with his
It is remarkable, Mr. Feeder, that the Romans
— ”at the mention of which terrible people, their implacable enemies, every young gentleman fastened his gaze upon the Doctor, with an assumption of the deepest interest.” So vivid and life-like were all these people, to the very youngest of the young gentlemen, that it became natural eagerly to seek out for them actual prototypes; but I think I can say with some confidence of them all, that, whatever single traits may have been taken from persons known to him (a practice with all writers, and very specially with Dickens), only two had living originals. His own experience of Mrs. Pipchin has been related; I had myself some knowledge of Miss Blimber; and the Little Wooden Midshipman did actually (perhaps does still) occupy his post of observation in Leadenhall-street. The names that have been connected, I doubt not in perfect good faith, with Sol Gills, Perch the messenger, and Captain Cuttle, have certainly not more foundation than the fancy a courteous correspondent favours me with, that the redoubtable Captain must have sat for his portrait to Charles Lamb’s blustering, loud-talking, hook-handed Mr. Mingay. As to the amiable and excellent city-merchant whose name has been given to Mr. Dombey, he might with the same amount of justice or probability be supposed to have originated
Coriolanus
or
Timon of Athens
.

CHAPTER XVII.

SPLENDID STROLLING.

1847-1852.

Birth of Fifth Son — Theatrical Benefit for Leigh Hunt — Troubles at Rehearsals — Leigh Hunt’s Account — Receipts and Expenses — Anecdote of Macready — At Broadstairs — Appearance of Mrs. Gamp — Fancy for a Jeu-d’esprit — Mrs. Gamp at the Play — Mrs. Gamp with the Strollers — Confidences with Mrs. Harris — Leigh Hunt and Poole — Ticklish Society — Mrs. Gamp’s Cabman — George Cruikshank — Mr. Wilson the Hair-dresser — In the Sweedlepipes Line — Fatigues of a Powder Ball — C. D.’s Moustache and Whiskers — John Leech — Mark Lemon — Douglas Jerrold — Dudley Costello — Frank Stone — Augustus Egg — J. F. — Cruikshank’s
Bottle
— Profits of
Dombey
— Design for Edition of Old Novelists — Street-music at Broadstairs — Margate Theatre — Public Meetings — Book Friends — Friendly Reception in Glasgow — Scott-monument — Purchase of Shakespeare’s House — Amateur Theatricals — Origin of Guild of Literature and Art — Travelling Theatre and Scenes — Success of Comedy and Farce — Troubles of a Manager — Acting under Difficulties — Scenery overturned — Dinner at Manchester.

Devonshire Terrace remaining still in possession of Sir James Duke, a house was taken in Chester-place, Regent’s-park, where, on the 18th of April, his fifth son, to whom he gave the name of Sydney Smith Haldimand, was born.
Exactly a month before, we had attended together the funeral, at Highgate, of his publisher Mr. William Hall, his old regard for whom had survived the recent temporary cloud, and with whom he had the association as well of his first success, as of much kindly intercourse not forgotten at this sad time. Of the summer months that followed, the greater part was passed by him at Brighton or Broadstairs; and the chief employment of his leisure, in the intervals of
Dombey
, was the management of an enterprise originating in the success of our private play, of which the design was to benefit a great man of letters.

The purpose and the name had hardly been announced, when, with the statesmanlike attention to literature and its followers for which Lord John Russell has been eccentric among English politicians, a civil-list pension of two hundred a year was granted to Leigh Hunt; but though this modified our plan so far as to strike out of it performances meant to be given in London, so much was still thought necessary as might clear off past liabilities, and enable one of the most genuine of writers better to enjoy the easier future that had at last been opened to him. Reserving therefore anything realized beyond a certain sum for a dramatic author of merit, Mr. John Poole, to whom help had become also important, it was proposed to give, on Leigh Hunt’s behalf, two representations of Ben Jonson’s comedy, one at Manchester and the other at Liverpool, to be varied by different farces in each place; and with a prologue of Talfourd’s which Dickens was to deliver in Manchester, while a similar address by Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton was to be spoken by me in Liverpool. Among the artists and writers associated in the scheme were Mr. Frank Stone, Mr. Augustus Egg, Mr. John Leech, and Mr. George Cruikshank; Mr. Douglas Jerrold, Mr. Mark Lemon, Mr. Dudley Costello, and Mr. George Henry Lewes; the general management and supreme control being given to Dickens.

Leading men in both cities contributed largely to the design, and my friend Mr. Alexander Ireland of Manchester has lately sent me some letters not more characteristic of the energy of Dickens in regard to it than of the eagerness of every one addressed to give what help they could. Making personal mention of his fellow-sharers in the enterprise he describes the troop, in one of those letters, as “the most easily governable company of actors on earth;” and to this he had doubtless brought them, but not very easily. One or two of his managerial troubles at rehearsals remain on record in letters to myself, and may give amusement still. Comedy and farces are referred to indiscriminately, but the farces were the most recurring plague. “Good Heaven! I find that A. hasn’t twelve words, and I am in hourly expectation of rebellion!” — ”You were right about the green baize, that it would certainly muffle the voices; and some of our actors, by Jove, haven’t too much of that commodity at the best.” — ”B. shocked me so much the other night by a restless, stupid movement of his hands in his first scene with you, that I took a turn of an hour with him yesterday morning, and I hope quieted his nerves a little.” — ”I made a desperate effort to get C. to give up his part. Yet in spite of all the trouble he gives me I am sorry for him, he is so evidently hurt by his own sense of not doing well. He clutched the part, however, tenaciously; and three weary times we dragged through it last night.” — ”That infernal E. forgets everything.” — ”I plainly see that F. when nervous, which he is sure to be, loses his memory. Moreover his asides are inaudible, even at Miss Kelly’s; and as regularly as I stop him to say them again, he exclaims (with a face of agony) that ‘he’ll speak loud on the night,’ as if anybody ever did without doing it always!” — ”G. not born for it at all, and too innately conceited, I much fear, to do anything well. I thought him better last night, but I would as soon laugh at a kitchen poker.” — ”Fancy H. ten days after the casting of that farce, wanting F.’s part therein! Having himself an excellent old man in it already, and a quite admirable part in the other farce.” From which it will appear that my friend’s office was not a sinecure, and that he was not, as few amateur-managers have ever been, without the experiences of Peter Quince. Fewer still, I suspect, have fought through them with such perfect success, for the company turned out at last would have done credit to any enterprise. They deserved the term applied to them by Maclise, who had invented it first for Macready, on his being driven to “star” in the provinces when his managements in London closed. They were “splendid strollers.”

On Monday the 26th July we played at Manchester, and on Wednesday the 28th at Liverpool; the comedy being followed on the first night by
A Good Night’s Rest
and
Turning the Tables
, and on the second by
Comfortable Lodgings, or Paris in 1750;
and the receipts being, on the first night £440 12
s
, and on the second, £463 8
s.
6
d.
But though the married members of the company who took their wives defrayed that part of the cost, and every one who acted paid three pounds ten to the benefit-fund for his hotel charges, the expenses were necessarily so great that the profit was reduced to four hundred guineas, and, handsomely as this realised the design, expectations had been raised to five hundred. There was just that shade of disappointment, therefore, when, shortly after we came back and Dickens had returned to Broadstairs, I was startled by a letter from him. On the 3rd of August he had written: “All well. Children” (who had been going through whooping cough) “immensely improved. Business arising out of the late blaze of triumph, worse than ever.” Then came what startled me, the very next day. As if his business were not enough, it had occurred to him that he might add the much longed-for hundred pounds to the benefit-fund by a little jeu d’esprit in form of a history of the trip, to be published with illustrations from the artists; and his notion was to write it in the character of Mrs. Gamp. It was to be, in the phraseology of that notorious woman, a new “Piljians Projiss;” and was to bear upon the title page its description as an Account of a late Expedition into the North, for an Amateur Theatrical Benefit, written by Mrs. Gamp (who was an eye-witness), Inscribed to Mrs. Harris, Edited by Charles Dickens, and published, with illustrations on wood by so and so, in aid of the Benefit-fund. “What do you think of this idea for it? The argument would be, that Mrs. Gamp, being on the eve of an excursion to Margate as a relief from her professional fatigues, comes to the knowledge of the intended excursion of our party; hears that several of the ladies concerned are in an interesting situation; and decides to accompany the party unbeknown, in a second-class carriage — ’in case.’ There, she finds a gentleman from the Strand in a checked suit, who is going down with the wigs” — the theatrical hair-dresser employed on these occasions, Mr. Wilson, had eccentric points of character that were a fund of infinite mirth to Dickens — ”and to his politeness Mrs. Gamp is indebted for much support and countenance during the excursion. She will describe the whole thing in her own manner: sitting, in each place of performance, in the orchestra, next the gentleman who plays the kettle-drums. She gives her critical opinion of Ben Jonson as a literary character, and refers to the different members of the party, in the course of her description of the trip: having always an invincible animosity towards Jerrold, for Caudle reasons. She addresses herself, generally, to Mrs. Harris, to whom the book is dedicated, — but is discursive. Amount of matter, half a sheet of
Dombey:
may be a page or so more, but not less.” Alas! it never arrived at even that small size, but perished prematurely, as I feared it would, from failure of the artists to furnish needful nourishment. Of course it could not live alone. Without suitable illustration it must have lost its point and pleasantry. “Mac will make a little garland of the ladies for the title-page. Egg and Stone will themselves originate something fanciful, and I will settle with Cruikshank and Leech. I have no doubt the little thing will be droll and attractive.” So it certainly would have been, if the Thanes of art had not fallen from him; but on their desertion it had to be abandoned after the first few pages were written. They were placed at my disposal then; and, though the little jest has lost much of its flavour now, I cannot find it in my heart to omit them here. There are so many friends of Mrs. Gamp who will rejoice at this unexpected visit from her!

“I. MRS. GAMP’S ACCOUNT OF HER CONNEXION WITH THIS AFFAIR.

“Which Mrs. Harris’s own words to me, was these: ‘Sairey Gamp,’ she says, ‘why not go to Margate? Srimps,’ says that dear creetur, ‘is to your liking, Sairey; why not go to Margate for a week, bring your constitootion up with srimps, and come back to them loving arts as knows and wallies of you, blooming? Sairey,’ Mrs. Harris says, ‘you are but poorly. Don’t denige it, Mrs. Gamp, for books is in your looks. You must have rest. Your mind,’ she says, ‘is too strong for you; it gets you down and treads upon you, Sairey. It is useless to disguige the fact — the blade is a wearing out the sheets.’ ‘Mrs. Harris,’ I says to her, ‘I could not undertake to say, and I will not deceive you ma’am, that I am the woman I could wish to be. The time of worrit as I had with Mrs. Colliber, the baker’s lady, which was so bad in her mind with her first, that she would not so much as look at bottled stout, and kept to gruel through the month, has agued me, Mrs. Harris. But ma’am,’ I says to her, ‘talk not of Margate, for if I do go anywheres, it is elsewheres and not there.’ ‘Sairey,’ says Mrs. Harris, solemn, ‘whence this mystery? If I have ever deceived the hardest-working, soberest, and best of women, which her name is well beknown is S. Gamp Midwife Kingsgate Street High Holborn, mention it. If not,’ says Mrs. Harris, with the tears a standing in her eyes, ‘reweal your intentions.’ ‘Yes, Mrs. Harris,’ I says, ‘I will. Well I knows you Mrs. Harris; well you knows me; well we both knows wot the characters of one another is. Mrs. Harris then,’ I says, ‘I
have
heerd as there
is
a expedition going down to Manjestir and Liverspool, a play-acting. If I goes anywheres for change, it is along with that.’ Mrs. Harris clasps her hands, and drops into a chair, as if her time was come — which I know’d it couldn’t be, by rights, for six weeks odd. ‘And have I lived to hear,’ she says, ‘of Sairey Gamp, as always kept hersef respectable, in company with play-actors!’ ‘Mrs. Harris,’ I says to her, ‘be not alarmed — not reg’lar play-actors — hammertoors.’ ‘Thank Evans!’ says Mrs. Harris, and bustiges into a flood of tears.