ANTHONY TROLLOPE

1815-1882

[Sidenote: A personal friend.]

“I remember a man hitting off a very good description of Trollope’s

manner, by remarking that ‘he came in at the door like a frantic

windmill.’ The bell would peal, the knocker begin thundering, the door

be burst open, and the next minute the house be filled by the big

resonant voice inquiring who was at home. I should say he had naturally

a sweet voice, which through eagerness he had spoilt by holloing. He

was a big man, and the most noticeable thing about his dress was a

black handkerchief which he wore tied _twice_ round his neck. A trick

of his was to put the end of a silk pocket-handkerchief in his mouth

and to keep gnawing at it--often biting it into holes in the excess

of his energy; and a favourite attitude was to stand with his thumbs

tucked into the armholes of his waistcoat. He was a full-coloured man,

and joking and playful when at his ease. Unless with his intimates,

he rarely laughed, but he had a funny way of putting things, and was

usually voted good company.”

[Sidenote: A personal friend.]

“Trollope said his height was five feet ten, but most people would

have thought him taller. He was a stout man, large of limb, and always

held himself upright without effort. His manner was bluff, hearty, and

genial, and he possessed to the full the great charm of giving his

undivided attention to the matter in hand. He was always enthusiastic

and energetic in whatever he did. He was of an eager disposition, and

doing nothing was a pain to him. In early manhood he became bald; in

his latter life his full and bushy beard naturally grew to be gray. He

had thick eyebrows, and his open nostrils gave a look of determination

to his strong capable face. His eyes were grayish-blue, but he was

rarely seen without spectacles, though of late years he used to take

them off whenever he was reading. From a boy he had always been

short-sighted.”

[Sidenote: A personal friend.]

“Standing with his back to the fire, with his hands clasped behind

him and his feet planted somewhat apart, the appearance of Anthony

Trollope, as I recall him now, was that of a thorough Englishman in

a thoroughly English attitude. He was then, perhaps, nearing sixty,

and had far more the look of a country gentleman than of a man of

letters. Tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a careless though not

slovenly fashion, it seemed more fitting that he should break into

a vivid description of the latest run with the hounds than launch

into book-talk. Either subject, however, and for the matter of that

I might add _any_ subject, was attacked by him with equal energy.

In writing of the man, this, indeed, is the chief impression I

recall--his energy, his thoroughness. While he talked to me, I and

my interests might have been the only things for which he cared; and

any passing topic of conversation was, for the moment, the one and

absorbing topic in the world. Being short-sighted, he had a habit of

peering through his glasses which contracted his brows and gave him the

appearance of a perpetual frown, and, indeed, his expression when in

repose was decidedly severe. This, however, vanished when he spoke. He

talked well, and had generally a great deal to say; but his talk was

disjointed, and he but rarely laughed. In manner he was brusque, and

one of his most striking peculiarities was his voice, which was of an

extraordinarily large compass.”--1873.

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