zealous Dolby all right. You may imagine what his work is, when you hear
that he goes three times to every place we visit. Firstly, to look at
the hall, arrange the numberings, and make five hundred acquaintances,
whom he immediately calls by their christian-names; secondly, to sell
the tickets--a very nice business, requiring great tact and temper;
thirdly, with me. He will probably turn up at Washington next Sunday,
but only for a little while; for as soon as I am on the platform on
Monday night, he will start away again, probably to be seen no more
until we pass through New York in the middle of February.
[Sidenote: Mr. Samuel Cartwright]
BALTIMORE, _Wednesday, Jan. 29th, 1868._
MY DEAR CARTWRIGHT,
As I promised to report myself to you from this side of the Atlantic,
and as I have some leisure this morning, I am going to lighten my
conscience by keeping my word.
I am going on at a great pace and with immense success. Next week, at
Washington, I shall, please God, have got through half my readings. The
remaining half are all arranged, and they will carry me into the third
week of April. It is very hard work, but it is brilliantly paid. The
changes that I find in the country generally (this place is the least
changed of any I have yet seen) exceed my utmost expectations. I had
been in New York a couple of days before I began to recognise it at all;
and the handsomest part of Boston was a black swamp when I saw it
five-and-twenty years ago. Considerable advances, too, have been made
socially. Strange to say, the railways and railway arrangements (both
exceedingly defective) seem to have stood still while all other things
have been moving.
One of the most comical spectacles I have ever seen in my life was
"church," with a heavy sea on, in the saloon of the Cunard steamer
coming out. The officiating minister, an extremely modest young man, was
brought in between two big stewards, exactly as if he were coming up to
the scratch in a prize-fight. The ship was rolling and pitching so, that
the two big stewards had to stop and watch their opportunity of making a
dart at the reading-desk with their reverend charge, during which pause
he held on, now by one steward and now by the other, with the feeblest
expression of countenance and no legs whatever. At length they made a
dart at the wrong moment, and one steward was immediately beheld alone
in the extreme perspective, while the other and the reverend gentleman
_held on by the mast_ in the middle of the saloon--which the latter
embraced with both arms, as if it were his wife. All this time the
congregation was breaking up into sects and sliding away; every sect (as
in nature) pounding the other sect. And when at last the reverend
gentleman had been tumbled into his place, the desk (a loose one, put
upon the dining-table) deserted from the church bodily, and went over to
the purser. The scene was so extraordinarily ridiculous, and was made so
much more so by the exemplary gravity of all concerned in it, that I was
obliged to leave before the service began.
This is one of the places where Butler carried it with so high a hand in
the war, and where the ladies used to spit when they passed a Northern
soldier. It still wears, I fancy, a look of sullen remembrance. (The
ladies are remarkably handsome, with an Eastern look upon them, dress
with a strong sense of colour, and make a brilliant audience.) The ghost
of slavery haunts the houses; and the old, untidy, incapable, lounging,
shambling black serves you as a free man. Free of course he ought to be;
but the stupendous absurdity of making him a voter glares out of every
roll of his eye, stretch of his mouth, and bump of his head. I have a
strong impression that the race must fade out of the States very fast.
It never can hold its own against a striving, restless, shifty people.
In the penitentiary here, the other day, in a room full of all blacks
(too dull to be taught any of the work in hand), was one young brooding
fellow, very like a black rhinoceros. He sat glowering at life, as if it
were just endurable at dinner time, until four of his fellows began to
sing, most unmelodiously, a part song. He then set up a dismal howl, and
pounded his face on a form. I took him to have been rendered quite
desperate by having learnt anything. I send my kind regard to Mrs.
Cartwright, and sincerely hope that she and you have no new family
distresses or anxieties. My standing address is the Westminster Hotel,
Irving Place, New York City. And I am always, my dear Cartwright,
Cordially yours.
[Sidenote: Miss Dickens.]
PHILADELPHIA, _Friday, Jan. 31st, 1868._
Since writing to your aunt I have received yours of the 7th, and am
truly glad to have the last news of you confirmed by yourself.
From a letter Wilkie has written to me, it seems there can be no doubt
that the "No Thoroughfare" drama is a real, genuine, and great success.
It is drawing immensely, and seems to "go" with great effect and
applause.
"Doctor Marigold" here last night (for the first time) was an immense
success, and all Philadelphia is going to rush at once for tickets for
the two Philadelphian farewells the week after next. The tickets are to
be sold to-morrow, and great excitement is anticipated in the streets.
Dolby not being here, a clerk will sell, and will probably wish himself
dead before he has done with it.
It appears to me that Chorley[22] writes to you on the legacy question
because he wishes you to understand that there is no danger of his
changing his mind, and at the bottom I descry an honest desire to pledge
himself as strongly as possible. You may receive it in that better
spirit, or I am much mistaken. Tell your aunt, with my best love, that I
wrote to Chauncey weeks ago, in answer to a letter from him. I am now
going out in a sleigh (and four) with unconceivable dignity and
grandeur; mentioning which reminds me that I am informed by trusty
scouts that ---- intends to waylay me at Washington, and may even
descend upon me in the train to-morrow.
Best love to Katie, the two Charleys, and all.
[Sidenote: Miss Dickens.]
WASHINGTON, _Tuesday, Feb. 4th, 1868._
I began here last night with great success. The hall being small, the
prices were raised to three dollars each ticket. The audience was a
superior one, composed of the foremost public men and their families. At
the end of the "Carol" they gave a great break out, and applauded, I
really believe, for five minutes. You would suppose them to be
Manchester shillings instead of Washington half-sovereigns. Immense
enthusiasm.
A devoted adherent in this place (an Englishman) had represented to
Dolby that if I were taken to an hotel here it would be impossible to
secure me a minute's rest, and he undertook to get one Wheleker, a
German, who keeps a little Verey's, to furnish his private dining-rooms
for the illustrious traveller's reception. Accordingly here we are, on
the first and second floor of a small house, with no one else in it but
our people, a French waiter, and a very good French cuisine. Perfectly
private, in the city of all the world (I should say) where the hotels
are intolerable, and privacy the least possible, and quite comfortable.
"Wheleker's Restaurant" is our rather undignified address for the
present week.
I dined (against my rules) with Charles Sumner on Sunday, he having been
an old friend of mine. Mr. Secretary Staunton (War Minister) was there.
He is a man of a very remarkable memory, and famous for his
acquaintance with the minutest details of my books. Give him any passage
anywhere, and he will instantly cap it and go on with the context. He
was commander-in-chief of all the Northern forces concentrated here, and
never went to sleep at night without first reading something from my
books, which were always with him. I put him through a pretty severe
examination, but he was better up than I was.
The gas was very defective indeed last night, and I began with a small
speech, to the effect that I must trust to the brightness of their faces
for the illumination of mine; this was taken greatly. In the "Carol," a
most ridiculous incident occurred all of a sudden. I saw a dog look out
from among the seats into the centre aisle, and look very intently at
me. The general attention being fixed on me, I don't think anybody saw
the dog; but I felt so sure of his turning up again and barking, that I
kept my eye wandering about in search of him. He was a very comic dog,
and it was well for me that I was reading a very comic part of the book.
But when he bounced out into the centre aisle again, in an entirely new
place (still looking intently at me) and tried the effect of a bark upon
my proceedings, I was seized with such a paroxysm of laughter, that it
communicated itself to the audience, and we roared at one another loud
and long.
The President has sent to me twice, and I am going to see him to-morrow.
He has a whole row for his family every night. Dolby rejoined his chief
yesterday morning, and will probably remain in the august presence until
Sunday night. He and Osgood, "training for the match," are ludicrous
beyond belief. I saw them just now coming up a street, each trying to
pass the other, and immediately fled. Since I have been writing this,
they have burst in at the door and sat down on the floor to blow. Dolby
is now writing at a neighbouring table, with his bald head smoking as if
he were on fire. Kelly (his great adherent) asked me, when he was last
away, whether it was quite fair that I should take Mr. Osgood out for
"breathers" when Mr. Dolby had no such advantage. I begin to expect that
half Boston will turn out on the 29th to see the match. In which case it
will be unspeakably droll.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
WASHINGTON, _my Birthday_, 1868.
(_And my cold worse than ever._)
This will be but a short letter, as I have been to see the President
this morning, and have little time before the post goes. He had sent a
gentleman to me, most courteously begging me to make my own appointment,
and I did so. A man of very remarkable appearance indeed, of tremendous
firmness of purpose. Not to be turned or trifled with.
As I mention my cold's being so bad, I will add that I have never had
anything the matter with me since I came here _but_ the cold. It is now
in my throat, and slightly on my chest. It occasions me great
discomfort, and you would suppose, seeing me in the morning, that I
could not possibly read at night. But I have always come up to the
scratch, have not yet missed one night, and have gradually got used to
that. I had got much the better of it; but the dressing-room at the hall
here is singularly cold and draughty, and so I have slid back again.
The papers here having written about this being my birthday, the most
exquisite flowers came pouring in at breakfast time from all sorts of
people. The room is covered with them, made up into beautiful bouquets,
and arranged in all manner of green baskets. Probably I shall find
plenty more at the hall to-night. This is considered the dullest and
most apathetic place in America. _My_ audiences have been superb.
I mentioned the dog on the first night here. Next night I thought I
heard (in "Copperfield") a suddenly suppressed bark. It happened in this
wise: Osgood, standing just within the door, felt his leg touched, and
looking down beheld the dog staring intently at me, and evidently just
about to bark. In a transport of presence of mind and fury, he instantly
caught him up in both hands and threw him over his own head out into the
entry, where the check-takers received him like a game at ball. Last
night he came again _with another dog_; but our people were so sharply
on the look-out for him that he didn't get in. He had evidently promised
to pass the other dog free.
[Sidenote: Miss Dickens.]
BALTIMORE, U.S., _Tuesday, Feb. 11th, 1868._
The weather has been desperately severe, and my cold quite as bad as
ever. I couldn't help laughing at myself on my birthday at Washington.
It was observed as much as though I were a little boy. Flowers and
garlands (of the most exquisite kind) bloomed all over the room; letters
radiant with good wishes poured in; a shirt pin, a handsome silver
travelling bottle, a set of gold shirt studs, and a set of gold sleeve
links were on the dinner-table. After "Boots," at night, the whole
audience rose and remained (Secretaries of State, President's family,
Judges of Supreme Court, and so forth) standing and cheering until I
went back to the table and made them a little speech. On the same
august day of the year I was received by the President, a man with a
very remarkable and determined face. Each of us looked at each other
very hard, and each of us managed the interview (I think) to the
satisfaction of the other. In the outer room was sitting a certain
sunburnt General Blair, with many evidences of the war upon him. He got
up to shake hands with me, and then I found he had been out in the
prairie with me five-and-twenty years ago. That afternoon my "catarrh"
was in such a state that Charles Sumner, coming in at five o'clock and
finding me covered with mustard poultice, and apparently voiceless,
turned to Dolby and said: "Surely, Mr. Dolby, it is impossible that he
can read to-night." Says Dolby: "Sir, I have told the dear Chief so four
times to-day, and I have been very anxious. But you have no idea how he
will change when he gets to the little table." After five minutes of the
little table, I was not (for the time) even hoarse. The frequent
experience of this return of force when it is wanted saves me a vast
amount of anxiety.
I wish you would get from Homan and report to me, as near as he can
make, an approximate estimate is the right term in the trade, I believe,
of the following work:
1. To re-cover, with red leather, all the dining-room chairs.
2. To ditto, with green leather, all the library chairs and the couch.
3. To provide and lay down new _Brussels_ carpets in the front spare and
the two top spares. Quality of carpet, quality of yours and mine.
I have some doubts about the state of the hall floor-cloth, and also the
floor-cloth in the dining-room. Will you and your aunt carefully examine
both (calling in Homan too, if necessary), _and report to me_?
It would seem that "No Thoroughfare" has really developed as a drama
into an amazing success. I begin to think that I shall see it. Dolby is
away this morning, to conquer or die in a terrific struggle with the
Mayor of Newhaven (where I am to read next week), who has assailed him
on a charge of false play in selling tickets. Osgood, my other keeper,
stands at the table to take me out, and have a "breather" for the
walking-match, so I must leave off.
Think of my dreaming of Mrs. Bouncer each night!!!
[Sidenote: Mr. Henry Fielding Dickens.]
BALTIMORE, U.S., _Tuesday, Feb. 11th, 1868._
MY DEAR HARRY,
I should have written to you before now, but for constant and arduous
occupation.
In reference to the cricket club's not being what it might be, I agree
with you in the main. There are some things to be considered, however,
which you have hardly taken into account. The first thing to be avoided
is, the slightest appearance of patronage (one of the curses of
England). The second thing to be avoided is, the deprival of the men of
their just right to manage their own affairs. I would rather have no
club at all, than have either of these great mistakes made. The way out
of them is this: Call the men together, and explain to them that the
club might be larger, richer, and better. Say that you think that more
of the neighbouring gentlemen could be got to be playing members. That
you submit to them that it would be better to have a captain who could
correspond with them, and talk to them, and in some sort manage them;
and that, being perfectly acquainted with the game, and having long
played it at a great public school, you propose yourself as captain, for
the foregoing reasons. That you propose to them to make the subscription
of the gentlemen members at least double that of the working men, for no
other reason than that the gentlemen can afford it better; but that both
classes of members shall have exactly the same right of voting equally
in all that concerns the club. Say that you have consulted me upon the
matter, and that I am of these opinions, and am ready to become chairman
of the club, and to preside at their meetings, and to overlook its
business affairs, and to give it five pounds a year, payable at the
commencement of each season. Then, having brought them to this point,
draw up the club's rules and regulations, amending them where they want
amendment.
Discreetly done, I see no difficulty in this. But it can only be
honourably and hopefully done by having the men together. And I would
not have them at The Falstaff, but in the hall or dining-room--the
servants' hall, an excellent place. Whatever you do, let the men ratify;
and let them feel their little importance, and at once perceive how much
better the business begins to be done.
I am very glad to hear of the success of your reading, and still more
glad that you went at it in downright earnest. I should never have made
my success in life if I had been shy of taking pains, or if I had not
bestowed upon the least thing I have ever undertaken exactly the same
attention and care that I have bestowed upon the greatest. Do everything
at your best. It was but this last year that I set to and learned every
word of my readings; and from ten years ago to last night, I have never
read to an audience but I have watched for an opportunity of striking
out something better somewhere. Look at such of my manuscripts as are
in the library at Gad's, and think of the patient hours devoted year
after year to single lines.
* * * * *
The weather is very severe here, and the work is very hard. Dolby,
having been violently pitched into by the Mayor of Newhaven (a town at
which I am to read next week), has gone bodily this morning with defiant
written instructions from me to inform the said mayor that, if he fail
to make out his case, he (Dolby) is to return all the money taken, and
to tell him that I will not set foot in his jurisdiction; whereupon the
Newhaven people will probably fall upon the mayor in his turn, and lead
him a pleasant life.
Ever, my dear Harry, your affectionate Father.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
PHILADELPHIA, _Thursday, Feb. 13th, 1868._
We have got into an immense difficulty with the people of Newhaven. I
have a strong suspicion that one of our men (who sold there) has been
speculating all this while, and that he must have put front seats in his
pockets, and sold back ones. He denies what the mayor charges, but the
mayor holds on grimly. Dolby set off from Baltimore as soon as we found
out what was amiss, to examine and report; but some new feature of
difficulty must have come out, for this morning he telegraphs from New
York (where he had to sleep last night on his way to Newhaven), that he
is coming back for further consultation with the Chief. It will
certainly hurt us, and will of course be distorted by the papers into
all manner of shapes. My suspicion _may not_ be correct, but I have an
instinctive belief that it is. We shall probably have the old New York
row (and loss) over again, unless I can catch this mayor tripping in an
assertion.
In this very place, we are half-distracted by the speculators. They have
been holding out for such high prices, that the public have held out
too; and now (frightened at what they have done) the speculators are
trying to sell their worst seats at half the cost price, so that we are
in the ridiculous situation of having sold the room out, and yet not
knowing what empty seats there may be. _We_ could sell at our box-office
to any extent; but _we_ can't buy back of the speculators, because we
informed the public that all the tickets were gone. And if we bought
_under_ our own price and _sold_ at our own price, we should at once be
in treaty with the speculators, and should be making money by it! Dolby,
the much bullied, will come back here presently, half bereft of his
senses; and I should be half bereft of mine, if the situation were not
comically disagreeable.
Nothing will induce the people to believe in the farewells. At Baltimore
on Tuesday night (a very brilliant night indeed), they asked as they
came out: "When will Mr. Dickens read here again?" "Never." "Nonsense!
Not come back, after such houses as these? Come. Say when he'll read
again." Just the same here. We could as soon persuade them that I am the
President, as that I am going to read here, for the last time, to-morrow
night.
There is a child of the Barney Williams's in this house--a little
girl--to whom I presented a black doll when I was here last. I have seen
her eye at the keyhole since I began writing this, and I think she and
the doll are outside still. "When you sent it up to me by the coloured
boy," she said after receiving it (coloured boy is the term for black
waiter), "I gave such a cream that ma came running in and creamed too,
'cos she fort I'd hurt myself. But I creamed a cream of joy." _She_ had
a friend to play with her that day, and brought the friend with her, to
my infinite confusion. A friend all stockings, and much too tall, who
sat on the sofa very far back, with her stockings sticking stiffly out
in front of her, and glared at me and never spake word. Dolby found us
confronted in a sort of fascination, like serpent and bird.
[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]
NEW YORK, _Monday, Feb. 17th, 1868._
I got your letter of the 3rd of February here this morning. As I am off
at seven to-morrow morning, I answer it at once, though indeed I have
nothing to say.
"True American" still sticking to me. But I am always ready for my work,
and therefore don't much mind. Dolby and the Mayor of Newhaven
alternately embrace and exchange mortal defiances. In writing out some
advertisements towards midnight last night, he made a very good mistake.
"The reading will be comprised within two _minutes_, and the audience
are earnestly entreated to be seated ten _hours_ before its
commencement."
The weather has been finer lately, but the streets are in a horrible
condition, through half-melted snow, and it is now snowing again. The
walking-match (next Saturday week) is already in the Boston papers! I
suppose half Boston will turn out on the occasion. As a sure way of not
being conspicuous, "the men" are going to walk in flannel! They are in a
mingled state of comicality and gravity about it that is highly
ridiculous. Yesterday being a bright cool day, I took Dolby for a
"buster" of eight miles. As everybody here knows me, the spectacle of
our splitting up the fashionable avenue (the only way out of town)
excited the greatest amazement. No doubt _that_ will be in the papers
to-morrow. I give a gorgeous banquet to eighteen (ladies and gentlemen)
after the match. Mr. and Mrs. Fields, Do. Ticknor, Longfellow and his
daughter, Lowell, Holmes and his wife, etc. etc. Sporting speeches to be
made, and the stakes (four hats) to be handed over to the winner.
My ship will not be the _Cuba_ after all. She is to go into dock, and
the _Russia_ (a larger ship, and the latest built for the Cunard line)
is to take her place.
Very glad to hear of Plorn's success. Best love to Mamie.
[Sidenote: M. Charles Fechter.]
WASHINGTON, _February 24th, 1868._
MY DEAR FECHTER,
Your letter reached me here yesterday. I have sent you a telegram
(addressed to the theatre) this morning, and I write this by the
earliest return mail.
My dear fellow, consider yourself my representative. Whatever you do, or
desire to do, about the play, I fully authorise beforehand. Tell
Webster, with my regard, that I think his proposal honest and fair; that
I think it, in a word, like himself; and that I have perfect confidence
in his good faith and liberality.
As to making money of the play in the United States here, Boucicault has
filled Wilkie's head with golden dreams that have _nothing_ in them. He
makes no account of the fact that, wherever I go, the theatres (with my
name in big letters) instantly begin playing versions of my books, and
that the moment the Christmas number came over here they pirated it and
played "No Thoroughfare." Now, I have enquired into the law, and am
extremely doubtful whether I _could_ have prevented this. Why should
they pay for the piece as you act it, when they have no actors, and when
all they want is my name, and they can get that for nothing?