until yesterday morning, when we got a head-wind which still stands by
us. We have rolled and pitched, of course; but on the whole have been
wonderfully well off. I have had headache and have felt faint once or
twice, _but have not been sick at all_. My spacious cabin is very noisy
at night, as the most important working of the ship goes on outside my
window and over my head; but it is very airy, and if the weather be bad
and I can't open the window, I can open the door all night. If the
weather be fine (as it is now), I can open both door and window, and
write between them. Last night, I got a foot-bath under the dignified
circumstances of sitting on a camp-stool in my cabin, and having the
bath (and my feet) in the passage outside. The officers' quarters are
close to me, and, as I know them all, I get reports of the weather and
the way we are making when the watch is changed, and I am (as I usually
am) lying awake. The motion of the screw is at its slightest vibration
in my particular part of the ship. The silent captain, reported gruff,
is a very good fellow and an honest fellow. Kelly has been ill all the
time, and not of the slightest use, and is ill now. Scott always
cheerful, and useful, and ready; a better servant for the kind of work
there never can have been. Young Lowndes has been fearfully sick until
mid-day yesterday. His cabin is pitch dark, and full of blackbeetles. He
shares mine until nine o'clock at night, when Scott carries him off to
bed. He also dines with me in my magnificent chamber. This passage in
winter time cannot be said to be an enjoyable excursion, but I certainly
am making it under the best circumstances. (I find Dolby to have been
enormously popular on board, and to have known everybody and gone
everywhere.)
So much for my news, except that I have been constantly reading, and
find that "Pierra" that Mrs. Hogge sent me by Katie to be a very
remarkable book, not only for its grim and horrible story, but for its
suggestion of wheels within wheels, and sad human mysteries. Baker's
second book not nearly so good as his first, but his first anticipated
it.
We hope to get to Halifax either on Sunday or Monday, and to Boston
either on Tuesday or Wednesday. The glass is rising high to-day, and
everybody on board is hopeful of an easterly wind.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
_Saturday, 16th._
Last Thursday afternoon a heavy gale of wind sprang up and blew hard
until dark, when it seemed to lull. But it then came on again with great
violence, and blew tremendously all night. The noise, and the rolling
and plunging of the ship, were awful. Nobody on board could get any
sleep, and numbers of passengers were rolled out of their berths. Having
a side-board to mine to keep me in, like a baby, I lay still. But it was
a dismal night indeed, and it was curious to see the change it had made
in the faces of all the passengers yesterday. It cannot be denied that
these winter crossings are very trying and startling; while the
personal discomfort of not being able to wash, and the miseries of
getting up and going to bed, with what small means there are all
sliding, and sloping, and slopping about, are really in their way
distressing.
This forenoon we made Cape Race, and are now running along at full speed
with the land beside us. Kelly still useless, and positively declining
to show on deck. Scott, with an eight-day-old moustache, more super like
than ever. My foot (I hope from walking on the boarded deck) in a very
shy condition to-day, and rather painful. I shaved this morning for the
first time since Liverpool; dodging at the glass, very much like
Fechter's imitation of ----. The white cat that came off with us in the
tender a general favourite. She belongs to the daughter of a Southerner,
returning with his wife and family from a two-years' tour in Europe.
_Sunday, 17th._
At four o'clock this morning we got into bad weather again, and the
state of things at breakfast-time was unutterably miserable. Nearly all
the passengers in their berths--no possibility of standing on
deck--sickness and groans--impracticable to pass a cup of tea from one
pair of hands to another. It has slightly moderated since (between two
and three in the afternoon I write), and the sun is shining, but the
rolling of the ship surpasses all imagination or description.
We expect to be at Halifax about an hour after midnight, and this letter
shall be posted there, to make certain of catching the return mail on
Wednesday. Boston is only thirty hours from Halifax.
Best love to Mamie, and to Katie and Charley. I know you will report me
and my love to Forster and Mrs. Forster. I write with great difficulty,
wedged up in a corner, and having my heels on the paper as often as the
pen. Kelly worse than ever, and Scott better than ever.
My desk and I have just arisen from the floor.
[Sidenote: Miss Dickens.]
PARKER HOUSE, BOSTON, _Thursday, Nov. 21st, 1867._
I arrived here on Tuesday night, after a very slow passage from Halifax
against head-winds. All the tickets for the first four readings here
(all yet announced) were sold immediately on their being issued.
You know that I begin on the 2nd of December with "Carol" and "Trial"?
Shall be heartily glad to begin to count the readings off.
This is an immense hotel, with all manner of white marble public
passages and public rooms. I live in a corner high up, and have a hot
and cold bath in my bedroom (communicating with the sitting-room), and
comforts not in existence when I was here before. The cost of living is
enormous, but happily we can afford it. I dine to-day with Longfellow,
Emerson, Holmes, and Agassiz. Longfellow was here yesterday. Perfectly
white in hair and beard, but a remarkably handsome and notable-looking
man. The city has increased enormously in five-and-twenty years. It has
grown more mercantile--is like Leeds mixed with Preston, and flavoured
with New Brighton; but for smoke and fog you substitute an exquisitely
bright light air. I found my rooms beautifully decorated (by Mrs.
Fields) with choice flowers, and set off by a number of good books. I am
not much persecuted by people in general, as Dolby has happily made up
his mind that the less I am exhibited for nothing the better. So our men
sit outside the room door and wrestle with mankind.
We had speech-making and singing in the saloon of the _Cuba_ after the
last dinner of the voyage. I think I have acquired a higher reputation
from drawing out the captain, and getting him to take the second in
"All's Well," and likewise in "There's not in the wide world" (your
parent taking first), than from anything previously known of me on these
shores. I hope the effect of these achievements may not dim the lustre
of the readings. We also sang (with a Chicago lady, and a strong-minded
woman from I don't know where) "Auld Lang Syne," with a tender
melancholy, expressive of having all four been united from our cradles.
The more dismal we were, the more delighted the company were. Once (when
we paddled i' the burn) the captain took a little cruise round the
compass on his own account, touching at the "Canadian Boat Song," and
taking in supplies at "Jubilate," "Seas between us braid ha' roared,"
and roared like the seas themselves. Finally, I proposed the ladies in a
speech that convulsed the stewards, and we closed with a brilliant
success. But when you dine with Mr. Forster, ask him to read to you how
we got on at church in a heavy sea. Hillard has just been in and sent
his love "to those dear girls." He has grown much older. He is now
District Attorney of the State of Massachusetts, which is a very good
office. Best love to your aunt and Katie, and Charley and all his house,
and all friends.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
PARKER HOUSE, BOSTON, _Monday, Nov. 25th, 1867._
I cannot remember to whom I wrote last, but it will not much matter if I
make a mistake; this being generally to report myself so well, that I am
constantly chafing at not having begun to-night instead of this night
week.
The tickets being all sold for next week, and no other announcement
being yet made, there is nothing new in that way to tell of. Dolby is
over at New York, where we are at our wits' end how to keep tickets out
of the hands of speculators. Morgan is staying with me; came yesterday
to breakfast, and goes home to-morrow. Fields and Mrs. Fields also dined
yesterday. She is a very nice woman, with a rare relish for humour and a
most contagious laugh. The Bostonians having been duly informed that I
wish to be quiet, really leave me as much so as I should be in
Manchester or Liverpool. This I cannot expect to last elsewhere; but it
is a most welcome relief here, as I have all the readings to get up. The
people are perfectly kind and perfectly agreeable. If I stop to look in
at a shop-window, a score of passers-by stop; and after I begin to read,
I cannot expect in the natural course of things to get off so easily.
But I every day take from seven to ten miles in peace.
Communications about readings incessantly come in from all parts of the
country. We take no offer whatever, lying by with our plans until after
the first series in New York, and designing, if we make a furore there,
to travel as little as possible. I fear I shall have to take Canada at
the end of the whole tour. They make such strong representations from
Montreal and Toronto, and from Nova Scotia--represented by St. John's
and Halifax--of the slight it would be to them, if I wound up with the
States, that I am shaken.
It is sad to see Longfellow's house (the house in which his wife was
burnt) with his young daughters in it, and the shadow of that terrible
story. The young undergraduates of Cambridge (he is a professor there)
have made a representation to him that they are five hundred strong,
and cannot get one ticket. I don't know what is to be done for them; I
suppose I must read there somehow. We are all in the clouds until I
shall have broken ground in New York, as to where readings will be
possible and where impossible.
Agassiz is one of the most natural and jovial of men. I go out
a-visiting as little as I can, but still have to dine, and what is
worse, sup pretty often. Socially, I am (as I was here before)
wonderfully reminded of Edinburgh when I had many friends in it.
Your account and Mamie's of the return journey to London gave me great
pleasure. I was delighted with your report of Wilkie, and not surprised
by Chappell's coming out gallantly.
My anxiety to get to work is greater than I can express, because time
seems to be making no movement towards home until I shall be reading
hard. Then I shall begin to count and count and count the upward steps
to May.
If ever you should be in a position to advise a traveller going on a sea
voyage, remember that there is some mysterious service done to the
bilious system when it is shaken, by baked apples. Noticing that they
were produced on board the _Cuba_, every day at lunch and dinner, I
thought I would make the experiment of always eating them freely. I am
confident that they did wonders, not only at the time, but in stopping
the imaginary pitching and rolling after the voyage is over, from which
many good amateur sailors suffer. I have hardly had the sensation at
all, except in washing of a morning. At that time I still hold on with
one knee to the washing-stand, and could swear that it rolls from left
to right. The _Cuba_ does not return until Wednesday, the 4th December.
You may suppose that every officer on board is coming on Monday, and
that Dolby has provided extra stools for them. His work is very hard
indeed. Cards are brought to him every minute in the day; his
correspondence is immense; and he is jerked off to New York, and I don't
know where else, on the shortest notice and the most unreasonable times.
Moreover, he has to be at "the bar" every night, and to "liquor up with
all creation" in the small hours. He does it all with the greatest good
humour, and flies at everybody who waylays the Chief, furiously. We have
divided our men into watches, so that one always sits outside the
drawing-room door. Dolby knows the whole Cunard line, and as we could
not get good English gin, went out in a steamer yesterday and got two
cases (twenty-four bottles) out of Cunard officers. Osgood and he were
detached together last evening for New York, whence they telegraph every
other hour about some new point in this precious sale of tickets. So
distracted a telegram arrived at three that I have telegraphed back,
"Explain yourselves," and am now waiting for the explanation. I think
you know that Osgood is a partner in Ticknor and Fields'.
Tuesday morning.--Dolby has come back from New York, where the prospects
seem immense. We sell tickets there next Friday and Saturday, and a
tremendous rush is expected.
[Sidenote: Mr. Charles Dickens.]
PARKER HOUSE, BOSTON, U.S., _Saturday, Nov. 30th, 1867._
MY DEAR CHARLEY,
You will have heard before now how fortunate I was on my voyage, and how
I was not sick for a moment. These screws are tremendous ships for
carrying on, and for rolling, and their vibration is rather distressing.
But my little cabin, being for'ard of the machinery, was in the best
part of the vessel, and I had as much air in it, night and day, as I
chose. The saloon being kept absolutely without air, I mostly dined in
my own den, in spite of my being allotted the post of honour on the
right hand of the captain.
The tickets for the first four readings here (the only readings
announced) were all sold immediately, and many are now re-selling at a
large premium. The tickets for the first four readings in New York (the
only readings announced there also) were on sale yesterday, and were all
sold in a few hours. The receipts are very large indeed; but engagements
of any kind and every kind I steadily refuse, being resolved to take
what is to be taken myself. Dolby is nearly worked off his legs, is now
at New York, and goes backwards and forwards between this place and that
(about the distance from London to Liverpool, though they take nine
hours to do it) incessantly. Nothing can exceed his energy and good
humour, and he is extremely popular everywhere. My great desire is to
avoid much travelling, and to try to get the people to come to me,
instead of my going to them. If I can effect this to any moderate
extent, I shall be saved a great deal of knocking about. My original
purpose was not to go to Canada at all; but Canada is so up in arms on
the subject that I think I shall be obliged to take it at last. In that
case I should work round to Halifax, Nova Scotia, and then take the
packet for home.
As they don't seem (Americans who have heard me on their travels
excepted) to have the least idea here of what the readings are like, and
as they are accustomed to mere readings out of a book, I am inclined to
think the excitement will increase when I shall have begun. Everybody
is very kind and considerate, and I have a number of old friends here,
at the Bar and connected with the University. I am now negotiating to
bring out the dramatic version of "No Thoroughfare" at New York. It is
quite upon the cards that it may turn up trumps.
I was interrupted in that place by a call from my old secretary in the
States, Mr. Putnam. It was quite affecting to see his delight in meeting
his old master again. And when I told him that Anne was married, and
that I had (unacknowledged) grandchildren, he laughed and cried
together. I suppose you don't remember Longfellow, though he remembers
you in a black velvet frock very well. He is now white-haired and
white-bearded, but remarkably handsome. He still lives in his old house,
where his beautiful wife was burnt to death. I dined with him the other
day, and could not get the terrific scene out of my imagination. She was
in a blaze in an instant, rushed into his arms with a wild cry, and
never spoke afterwards.
My love to Bessie, and to Mekitty, and all the babbies. I will lay this
by until Tuesday morning, and then add a final line to it.
Ever, my dear Charley, your affectionate Father.
_Tuesday, Dec. 3rd, 1867._
Success last night beyond description or exaggeration. The whole city is
quite frantic about it to-day, and it is impossible that prospects could
be more brilliant.
[Sidenote: Miss Dickens.]
PARKER HOUSE, BOSTON, _Sunday, Dec. 1st, 1867._
I received yours of the 18th November, yesterday. As I left Halifax in
the _Cuba_ that very day, you probably saw us telegraphed in _The Times_
on the 19th.
Dolby came back from another run to New York, this morning. The receipts
are very large indeed, far exceeding our careful estimate made at Gad's.
I think you had best in future (unless I give you intimation to the
contrary) address your letters to me, at the Westminster Hotel, Irving
Place, New York City. It is a more central position than this, and we
are likely to be much more there than here. I am going to set up a
brougham in New York, and keep my rooms at that hotel. The account of
Matilda is a very melancholy one, and really distresses me. What she
must sink into, it is sad to consider. However, there was nothing for it
but to send her away, that is quite clear.
They are said to be a very quiet audience here, appreciative but not
demonstrative. I shall try to change their character a little.
I have been going on very well. A horrible custom obtains in these parts
of asking you to dinner somewhere at half-past two, and to supper
somewhere else about eight. I have run this gauntlet more than once, and
its effect is, that there is no day for any useful purpose, and that the
length of the evening is multiplied by a hundred. Yesterday I dined with
a club at half-past two, and came back here at half-past eight, with a
general impression that it was at least two o'clock in the morning. Two
days before I dined with Longfellow at half-past two, and came back at
eight, supposing it to be midnight. To-day we have a state dinner-party
in our rooms at six, Mr. and Mrs. Fields, and Mr. and Mrs. Bigelow. (He
is a friend of Forster's, and was American Minister in Paris). There are
no negro waiters here, all the servants are Irish--willing, but not
able. The dinners and wines are very good. I keep our own rooms well
ventilated by opening the windows, but no window is ever opened in the
halls or passages, and they are so overheated by a great furnace, that
they make me faint and sick. The air is like that of a pre-Adamite
ironing-day in full blast. Your respected parent is immensely popular in
Boston society, and its cordiality and unaffected heartiness are
charming. I wish I could carry it with me.
The leading New York papers have sent men over for to-morrow night with
instructions to telegraph columns of descriptions. Great excitement and
expectation everywhere. Fields says he has looked forward to it so long
that he knows he will die at five minutes to eight.
At the New York barriers, where the tickets are on sale and the people
ranged as at the Paris theatres, speculators went up and down offering
"twenty dollars for anybody's place." The money was in no case accepted.
One man sold two tickets for the second, third, and fourth night for
"one ticket for the first, fifty dollars" (about seven pounds ten
shillings), "and a brandy cocktail," which is an iced bitter drink. The
weather has been rather muggy and languid until yesterday, when there
was the coldest wind blowing that I ever felt. In the night it froze
very hard, and to-day the sky is beautiful.
_Tuesday, Dec. 3rd._
Most magnificent reception last night, and most signal and complete
success. Nothing could be more triumphant. The people will hear of
nothing else and talk of nothing else. Nothing that was ever done here,
they all agree, evoked any approach to such enthusiasm. I was quite as
cool and quick as if I were reading at Greenwich, and went at it
accordingly. Tell your aunt, with my best love, that I have this morning
received hers of the 21st, and that I will write to her next. That will
be from New York. My love to Mr. and Mrs. Hulkes and the boy, and to Mr.
and Mrs. Malleson.[18]
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
BOSTON, _Wednesday, Dec. 4th, 1867._
I find that by going off to the _Cuba_ myself this morning I can send
you the enclosed for Mary Boyle (I don't know how to address her), whose
usual flower for my button-hole was produced in the most extraordinary
manner here last Monday night! All well and prosperous. "Copperfield"
and "Bob" last night; great success.
[Sidenote: Miss Mary Boyle.]
BOSTON, _December 4th, 1867._
MY DEAR MEERY,
You can have no idea of the glow of pleasure and amazement with which I
saw your remembrance of me lying on my dressing-table here last Monday
night. Whosoever undertook that commission accomplished it to a miracle.
But you must go away four thousand miles, and have such a token conveyed
to _you_, before you can quite appreciate the feeling of receiving it.
Ten thousand loving thanks.
Immense success here, and unbounded enthusiasm. My largest expectations
far surpassed.
Ever your affectionate
Jo.
[Sidenote: Miss Dickens.]
WESTMINSTER HOTEL, IRVING PLACE, NEW YORK CITY,
_Wednesday, Dec 11th, 1867._
Amazing success here. A very fine audience; _far better than that at
Boston_. Great reception. Great, "Carol" and "Trial," on the first
night; still greater, "Copperfield" and "Bob," on the second. Dolby
sends you a few papers by this post. You will see from their tone what a
success it is.
I cannot pay this letter, because I give it at the latest moment to the
mail-officer, who is going on board the Cunard packet in charge of the
mails, and who is staying in this house. We are now selling (at the
hall) the tickets for the four readings of next week. At nine o'clock
this morning there were two thousand people in waiting, and they had
begun to assemble in the bitter cold as early as two o'clock. All night
long Dolby and our man have been stamping tickets. (Immediately over my
head, by-the-bye, and keeping me awake.) This hotel is quite as quiet as
Mivart's, in Brook Street. It is not very much larger. There are
American hotels close by, with five hundred bedrooms, and I don't know
how many boarders; but this is conducted on what is called "the European
principle," and is an admirable mixture of a first-class French and
English house. I keep a very smart carriage and pair; and if you were to
behold me driving out, furred up to the moustache, with furs on the
coach-boy and on the driver, and with an immense white, red, and yellow
striped rug for a covering, you would suppose me to be of Hungarian or
Polish nationality.
Will you report the success here to Mr. Forster with my love, and tell
him he shall hear from me by next mail?
Dolby sends his kindest regards. He is just come in from our ticket
sales, and has put such an immense untidy heap of paper money on the
table that it looks like a family wash. He hardly ever dines, and is
always tearing about at unreasonable hours. He works very hard.
My best love to your aunt (to whom I will write next), and to Katie, and
to both the Charleys, and all the Christmas circle, not forgetting
Chorley, to whom give my special remembrance. You may get this by
Christmas Day. _We_ shall have to keep it travelling from Boston here;
for I read at Boston on the 23rd and 24th, and here again on the 26th.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
WESTMINSTER HOTEL, IRVING PLACE, NEW YORK CITY,
_Monday, Dec. 16th, 1867._
We have been snowed up here, and the communication with Boston is still
very much retarded. Thus we have received no letters by the Cunard
steamer that came in last Wednesday, and are in a grim state of mind on
that subject.
Last night I was getting into bed just at twelve o'clock, when Dolby
came to my door to inform me that the house was on fire (I had
previously smelt fire for two hours). I got Scott up directly, told him
to pack the books and clothes for the readings first, dressed, and
pocketed my jewels and papers, while Dolby stuffed himself out with
money. Meanwhile the police and firemen were in the house, endeavouring
to find where the fire was. For some time it baffled their endeavours,
but at last, bursting out through some stairs, they cut the stairs away,
and traced it to its source in a certain fire-grate. By this time the
hose was laid all through the house from a great tank on the roof, and
everybody turned out to help. It was the oddest sight, and people had
put the strangest things on! After a little chopping and cutting with
axes and handing about of water, the fire was confined to a dining-room
in which it had originated, and then everybody talked to everybody else,
the ladies being particularly loquacious and cheerful. And so we got to
bed again at about two.
The excitement of the readings continues unabated, the tickets for
readings are sold as soon as they are ready, and the public pay treble
prices to the speculators who buy them up. They are a wonderfully fine
audience, even better than Edinburgh, and almost, if not quite, as good
as Paris.