claim for her any lofty literary position; she is emphatically
un-literary and middle-class. But she never has cause to say, "Story?
God bless you, I have none to tell, Sir," for she always has a very
distinct and convincing story, which she handles with a skill which can
perhaps be valued only by the professional novelist, who knows the
technical difficulty of handling the numerous _groups_ of characters
which Mrs. Wood especially affects. There is no book of hers which
deals--as so many novels deal--with merely one or two characters. She
takes the whole town into her story, wherever it may be. We not only
know the Lord-Lieutenant and the High Sheriff and the Squire, but we are
intimate (particularly intimate) with the families of the local lawyer
and doctor. We are almost equally well acquainted with their bootmaker
and green-grocer, while their maids and their grooms are as much living
entities to us as if they had served us in our own houses. To take a
great group of _dramatis personae_, widely differing in circumstances, in
character, in individuality; to keep them all perfectly clear without
confusion and without wavering; to evolve from them some central figures
on which the attention of the subsidiary characters shall be unavoidably
fixed, and to weave a plot of mystery, intrigue, treachery or passion
which must be resolved to its ultimate elements before the last page of
the book--to do all this is really an achievement of which many a
writer, who values himself on his intellectual superiority to Mrs. Henry
Wood, might well be proud. It is no more easy to marshal a multitude of
characters in the pages of your book than to dispose bodies of soldiers
in advantageous positions over an unknown country. The eye of a general
is in some respects needed for both operations, and the true balance
and proportion of a plot are not matters which come by accident or can
be accomplished without skill. It may not be literary skill, but it is
skill of a kind which deserves recognition, under what name soever it
may be classed.
* * * * *
Mrs. Henry Wood was born in Worcestershire in 1814, and died in London
in 1887. She suffered from delicate health and passed the greater part
of her life as an invalid. She was the daughter of Mr. Thomas Price, one
of the largest glove manufacturers in the city of Worcester. She married
Mr. Henry Wood, the head of a large banking and shipping firm, who
retired early from work and died comparatively young. It was not until
middle life that Mrs. Wood began to write; and her first work,--perhaps,
of all her works, the most popular--was "East Lynne," which first
appeared in _Colburn's New Monthly Magazine_. Its success was prodigious
and it is still one of the most popular novels upon the shelves of every
circulating library. It has been translated into many languages and
dramatised in different forms. It was published in 1861, and reached a
fifth edition within the year.
Amongst her most popular works also are "The Channings" and "Mrs.
Halliburton's Troubles," 1862; "The Shadow of Ashlydyat," 1863; "St.
Martin's Eve," 1866; "A Life's Secret," 1867; "Roland Yorke," a sequel
to "The Channings," 1869; "Johnny Ludlow," stories re-printed from the
_Argosy_, 1874 to 1885; "Edina," 1876; "Pomeroy Abbey," 1878; "Court
Netherleigh," 1881; and many other stories and novels. Mrs. Wood was for
many years the editor of the _Argosy_.
* * * * *
The reason of the popularity of "East Lynne" is not far to seek. It is,
to begin with, a very touching story; and its central situation, which
in some respects recalls the relation of the two women in Mrs. Crowe's
"Linny Lockwood," is genuinely striking. It is perhaps not worth while
to argue as to its probability. It is, of course, barely possible that a
woman should come disguised into the house where she formerly reigned as
mistress, and act as governess to her own children, without being
recognised. As a matter of fact, she is recognised by one of the
servants only on account of a momentary forgetfulness of her disguise.
Her own husband, her own children, do not know her in the least; and
although he and his kinswoman are vaguely troubled by what they consider
a chance resemblance, they dismiss it from their minds as utterly
impossible, until the day when Lady Isabel, dying in her husband's
house, begs to see him for the last time. The changes in her personal
appearance, her lameness, for instance, and the greyness of her hair,
are very ingeniously contrived; but it certainly seems almost impossible
that two or three years should have so completely changed her that
nobody should even guess at her identity.
The present generation complains that the pathos of the story is
overdone; but even if detail after detail is multiplied, so as to harrow
the reader's feelings almost unnecessarily, the fact still remains that
Mrs. Wood has imagined as pitiful and tragic a situation as could
possibly exist in the domestic relations of man and woman. The erring
wife returning to find her husband married to another woman, to nurse
one of her own children through his last illness without being
recognised by him or by her husband, and to die at last in her husband's
house with the merest shadow of consolation in the shape of his somewhat
grudging forgiveness, presents us with a figure which cannot fail to be
extremely pathetic.
The faults of Mrs. Henry Wood's style, its occasional prolixity and
commonplaceness, the iteration of the moral reflections, as well as the
triteness and feebleness sometimes of the dialogue, very nearly
disappear from view when we resign ourselves to a consideration of this
tragic situation. It cannot be denied that there is just a touch of
mawkishness now and then, just a slight ring of false sentiment in the
pity accorded to Lady Isabel, who was certainly one of the silliest
young women that ever existed in the realms of fiction. Nevertheless the
spectacle of the mother nursing the dying boy, who does not know her, is
one that will always appeal to the heart of the ordinary reader, and
will go far to account for the extraordinary popularity of "East Lynne."
A novelist of more aspiring genius would perhaps have concentrated our
attention exclusively upon Lady Isabel's feelings and tragic fate. Here
Mrs. Wood's failings, as well as her capacities, reveal themselves. She
sees the tragic side of things, but she sees also (and perhaps too much)
the pathos of small incidents, the importance of trifles. She spares us
no jot of the sordid side of life. And in a novel of the undoubted power
of "East Lynne" there are some details which might have been spared us.
The rapacity of the creditors who seize the body of Lady Isabel's
father, the gossip of the servants, the suspicions of Afy Hallijohn,
and, in short, almost all the underplot respecting Richard Hare--these
matters are superfluous. The reader's eye ought to be kept more
attentively upon the heroine and her relations with Mr. Carlisle and Sir
Francis. The one inexplicable point in the story is Lady Isabel's
desertion of her husband for a man whom she must despise. It is never
hinted that she had for one moment lost her heart to Francis Levison.
She left her husband out of sheer pique and jealousy, loving him
ardently all the while, although, in her ignorance and folly, she
scarcely knew that she loved him. Here the story is weak. We feel that
Mrs. Wood sacrifices probability in her effort to obtain a striking
situation. For the strongest part of "East Lynne" is the description of
what occurs when Lady Isabel returns as a governess to her old home,
when her husband, supposing her to be dead, has married his old love
Barbara Hare. To this situation, everything is subordinate; and it is in
itself so strong that we cannot wonder if the author strains a point or
two in order to achieve it.
But the curious, the characteristic, thing is that even in this supreme
crisis of the story, Mrs. Wood's essential love of detail, and of
somewhat commonplace detail, asserts itself over and over again. The
incidents she takes pains to narrate are rational enough. There is no
reason why pathos should be marred because a dying child asks for cheese
with his tea, or because the sensible stepmother condemns Lucy to a diet
of bread and water for some trifling offence, or because Miss Cornelia
Carlisle displays her laughable eccentricities at Lady Isabel's bedside.
The pathos is marred now and then, not because of these trifling yet
irritating incidents, but because we get an impression that the author
has forced a number of utterly prosaic people into a tragic situation
for which they are eminently unfitted. The ducking of Sir Francis
Levison in the horsepond is an example of this. The man was a heartless
villain and murderer, yet he is presented to us in a scene of almost
vulgar farce as part of his retribution. If the author had herself
realised the insufficiency of her characters to rise to the tragic
height demanded of them, she might have achieved either satire or
intense realism; but there is a certain smugness in Mrs. Henry Wood's
acceptance of the commonplaces of life which makes us feel her an
inadequate painter of tragedy. We close the book with a suspicion that
she preferred the intolerable Barbara to the winsome and erring Lady
Isabel.
"East Lynne" owes half its popularity, however, to that reaction against
inane and impossible goodness which has taken place since the middle of
the century. Just as Rochester and Paul Ferroll are protests against the
conventional hero, so Lady Isabel is a protest against the conventional
heroine--and a portent of her time! We were all familiar with beauty and
virtue in distress, from Clarissa Harlowe downwards. It is during later
years that we have become conversant with beauty and guilt as objects of
our sympathy and commiseration.
The moralists of the time--Saturday Reviewers, and others--perceived the
change from one point of view, and were not slow to comment on it. Their
opposition to the modern novel was chiefly based upon what they called a
glorification of vice and crime. Now that the mists of prejudice have
cleared away, we can see very well that no more praise of wrong-doing was
implied by Mrs. Wood's portrait of Lady Isabel than by Thackeray's
keen-edged delineation of Becky Sharp or George Eliot's sorrowful
sympathy with Maggie Tulliver. What was at first set down as a new and
revolutionary kind of admiration for weakness and criminality soon
resolved itself into a manifestation of that remarkable _Zeit-Geist_
which has made itself felt in every department of human life. It is that
side of the modern spirit which leads to the comprehension of the
sufferings of others, to a new pity for their faults and weaknesses, a
new breadth of tolerance, and a generous reluctance to judge harshly of
one's fellow man. It has crept into the domain of law, of religious
thought, of philanthropic effort, and it cannot be excluded from the
realms of literature and art. It is, in fact, the scientific spirit,
which says "there's nothing good or ill but thinking makes it so;" which
refuses to dogmatise or hastily to condemn; which looks for the motives
and reasons and causes of men's actions, and knows the infinite
gradations between folly and wisdom, between black and white, between
right and wrong. If science had done nothing else, it would be an
enormous gain that she should teach us to suspend our judgment, to weigh
evidence, and thus to pave the way for that diviner spirit by which we
refuse to consider any sinner irreclaimable or any criminal beyond the
reach of human sympathy.
"East Lynne" was received with general acclamation, and has been
translated, it is said, into every known tongue, including Parsee and
Hindustanee. "Some years ago," her son states, "one of the chief
librarians in Madrid informed Mrs. Henry Wood that the most popular book
on his shelves, original or translated, was 'East Lynne.' Not very long
ago it was translated into Welsh and brought out in a Welsh newspaper.
It has been dramatised and played so often that had the author received
a small royalty from every representation it was long since estimated
that it would have returned to her no less than a quarter of a million
sterling, but she never received anything.... In the English Colonies
the sale of the various works increased steadily year by year. In France
the story has been dramatised and is frequently played in Paris and the
Provinces." On its first appearance, an enthusiastic review in the
_Times_ produced a tremendous effect upon the public; the libraries
were besieged for copies, and the printers had to work night and day
upon new editions. In fact the success of "East Lynne" was one of the
most remarkable literary incidents of the century.
* * * * *
The most popular of Mrs. Henry Wood's books, next to "East Lynne," seem
to be "Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles" and "The Channings." These are
stories of more entirely quiet domestic interest than "East Lynne." The
situations are less tragical and the plots less complicated. Mrs.
Halliburton's quiet endurance of the privations and difficulties of her
life, the pathetic life and death of her little Janey, and the ultimate
success and achievements of her sons, linger in the memory of the reader
as a pleasant and homely picture of the vicissitudes of English life.
There is a more humorous element in "The Channings," from the
introduction of so many youthful characters--the boys of the Cathedral
school, notably Bywater, who is the incarnation of good-humoured
impudence, giving brightness to the tone of the story. The schoolboys
are in this, as in many other of Mrs. Wood's novels, particularly well
drawn. They are not prigs; they are anything but angels, in spite of
their white surplices and their beautiful voices; and their escapades
and adventures in the old cloisters were wild enough to make the old
monks turn in their graves. No doubt many incidents of this kind were
drawn from life and owe their origin to Mrs. Wood's acquaintance with
the Choir School belonging to Worcester Cathedral.
It was not the only occasion on which the manufacturer's daughter turned
her knowledge of Worcester to good account. It may be said that the
majority of her novels are coloured, more or less, by the author's
lengthy residence in a cathedral town. It was in 1874 that the first
series of short stories, supposed to be narrated by Johnny Ludlow, began
in the _Argosy_. Johnny Ludlow is a young lad belonging to a
Worcestershire family, who is supposed to narrate incidents which have
come under his observation at school or at home. Some of the stories
thus produced are striking and vigorous; others are of less merit, but
all are distinguished by the strong individuality of the characters, and
by the fidelity with which Worcester and Worcestershire life are
described. It now seems extraordinary that there should have been the
slightest doubt as to the authorship of these stories, for Mrs. Wood's
peculiarities of style are observable on every page. Mr. Charles W.
Wood, her son, remarks that "no one knew, or even guessed at, the
authorship;" but this is a rather exaggerated statement, as we have
reason to be aware that the author was recognised at once by critics of
discrimination. Still the general public were for some time deceived,
imagining Johnny Ludlow to be a new author, whose stories they
occasionally contrasted with those of Mrs. Henry Wood, and were said to
prefer, probably much to the novelist's own amusement.
The great variety of plot and incident found in the "Johnny Ludlow"
stories is their most remarkable feature. The same characters are, of
course, introduced again and again, as Johnny Ludlow moves in a circle
of country squires, clergy, and townspeople. But it is astonishing with
how much effect the stories of different lives can be placed in the same
setting, and with what infinite changes the life of a country district
can be reproduced. The characters are clearly drawn and often very well
contrasted, and no doubt Mrs. Henry Wood's memories of her earlier life
in the district contributed largely to the success of this series. The
first series ran in the _Argosy_ and were re-printed, 1874-1880, while a
second and third series maintained their popularity in 1881 and in 1885.
* * * * *
It has been computed that Mrs. Wood wrote not fewer than from three to
four hundred short stories, every one of them with a distinct and
carefully worked-out plot, in addition to nearly forty long novels: a
proof, if any were wanted, of the extreme fertility of her imagination
and the facility of her pen.
It has, however, sometimes been wondered why Mrs. Henry Wood's works
should have attained so great a circulation when they are conspicuously
wanting in the higher graces of literary style or intellectual
attainment. The reason appears to lie chiefly in certain qualities of
her writings which appeal in an entirely creditable way to the heart and
mind of the British public. Mrs. Wood's stories, although sensational in
plot, are purely domestic. They are concerned chiefly with the great
middle-class of England, and she describes lower middle-class life with
a zest and a conviction and a sincerity which we do not find in many
modern writers, who are apt to sneer at the _bourgeois_ habits and modes
of thought found in so many English households. Now the _bourgeoisie_
does not like to be sneered at. If it eats tripe and onions, and wears
bright blue silk dresses, and rejoices in dinner-tea, it nevertheless
considers its fashions to be as well worth serious attention as those of
the Upper Ten. Mrs. Henry Wood never satirises, she only records. It is
her fidelity to truth, to the smallest domestic detail, which has
charmed and will continue to charm, a large circle of readers, who are
inclined perhaps to glory in the name of "Philistine."
Then there is the loftier quality of a high, if somewhat conventional,
moral tone. Mrs. Wood's novels are emphatically on the side of purity,
honesty, domestic life and happiness. There is no book of hers which
does not breathe this spirit, or can be said to be anything but
harmless. Her character-drawing has merit; but it is not to be wondered
at, considering the number of works she produced, that she should repeat
the same type over and over again with a certain monotonous effect. The
sweet and gentle wife and mother, not too strong in character, but
perfectly refined and conscientious, such as Maria in the "Shadow of
Ashlydyat"; the "perfect gentleman," noble, upright, proud, generally
with blue eyes and straight features, like Oswald Cray and Mr. Carlisle
and Mr. North--these are characters with which we continually meet and
of which, admirable in themselves as they are, we sometimes weary. But
although the portraiture is not very subtle, it is on the whole faithful
to life.
Then there is that especial group of Mrs. Wood's stories already
mentioned, into which an element of freshness, then somewhat unusual in
fiction, is largely introduced. These are the stories which have much to
do with boys and boy-life--notably "The Channings," "Roland Yorke,"
"Orville College," "Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles," "Lady Grace," and the
"Johnny Ludlow" series. These books, less sensational in plot than many
of Mrs. Wood's novels, have been peculiarly successful, perhaps because
the scenes and characters are largely drawn from real life. Mrs. Wood's
long residence at Worcester made her familiar with the life of the
college boys, who haunt the precincts of the stately old cathedral, and
she has introduced her knowledge of their pranks with very great effect.
Her descriptions of the old city itself, of the streets, of the
cloisters, of the outlying villages and byways, are remarkably accurate,
and remind one of the use which Charles Dickens made, in the same way,
of Rochester and its cathedral.
It is really extraordinary to see how large a part of Mrs. Wood's work
is concerned with Worcester, and how well she could render, when she
chose, the dialogue of the country and the customs of its people. The
reason is, of course, that these things are true; that she gives us in
these books a part of her own experience, of her own life. Another group
of her books is interesting for a similar reason--the novels in which
she deals with business life, and the relations of employers to their
men. Such are "A Life's Secret," which is the very interesting history
of a strike; "The Foggy Night at Offord," "Mrs. Halliburton's
Troubles," and several of the "Johnny Ludlow" stories, where incidents
of the manufacturing districts of England have been introduced with very
good effect, Mrs. Wood's own connection with glove manufacturers in
Worcester having supplied her with ample materials for this kind of
fiction. In "A Life's Secret" there is an extremely clever picture of
the lower type of workman, and some excellent sketches of poor people
and of the misery they suffer during the strike and subsequent lockout.
The third class of Mrs. Wood's books consists of what may be called
works of pure imagination, with sometimes a slight touch of the romantic
and supernatural--such as "The Shadow of Ashlydyat," "St. Martin's Eve,"
"Lady Adelaide's Oath," "Lord Oakburn's Daughters," "George Canterbury's
Will," etc. From the literary point of view these books are less worthy
than the others, but they are particularly well constructed and
ingenious. There are no loose ends, and Mrs. Wood's skill in weaving a
plot seems never to have diminished to the last day of her life. But her
earlier and perhaps simpler work had more real value than even the books
which display such great constructive skill. Mrs. Wood would possibly
have taken a higher place amongst English novelists if she had avoided
mere sensation, and confined herself to what she could do well--namely,
the faithful and realistic rendering of English middle class life. She
has had, perhaps, more popularity than any novelist of the Victorian
age; and her popularity is justified by the wholesomeness and purity of
her moral tone, the ingenuity and sustained interest of her plots, and
the quiet truthfulness, in many cases, of her delineation of character.
Her faults are those of the class for which she wrote, her merits are
theirs also. It is no small praise to say that she never revelled in
dangerous situations, nor justified the wrong-doing of any of her
characters. When one considers the amount of work that she produced, and
the nature of that work, it is amazing to reflect on the variety of
incident and character which she managed to secure. Her plots often
turned upon sad or even tragic events, but the sadness and the tragedy
were natural and simple. There was nothing unwholesome about her books.
She will probably be read and remembered longer than many writers of a
far higher literary standing; and although fashions, even in fiction,
have greatly changed since the days when "East Lynne" and "The
Channings" made their mark, there is no doubt that they hold their place
in the affections of many an English novel-reader. They neither aim high
nor fall low: their gentle mediocrity is soothing; and they are not
without those gleams of insight and intensity which reveal the gift of
the born story-teller--a title to which Mrs. Henry Wood may well lay
claim.
[Signature: Adeline Sergeant.]
LADY GEORGIANA FULLERTON
MRS. STRETTON.
ANNE MANNING
_By_ CHARLOTTE M. YONGE
LADY GEORGIANA FULLERTON
MRS. STRETTON.
ANNE MANNING
The three ladies here grouped together are similar in the purity and
principle which breathe throughout their writings, though different in
other respects. The first named wrote in the stress, and later in the
calm, of a religious struggle; the second in the peaceful, fond memory
of a happy home-life; the third in the pleasurable realisation of
historic days long gone by. In each case, the life is reflected in the
books.
Georgiana Charlotte Leveson Gower was born on September 23, 1812, being
the second daughter of one of those noble families predestined, by their
rank and condition, to a diplomatic course. Her father became
ultimately Earl Granville, and when his little daughter was twelve years
old, he received the appointment of ambassador at Paris. It is well
known that the upper diplomatic circles form the _creme de la creme_ of
aristocratic society, their breeding, refinement, knowledge of man and
manners, as well as their tact, being almost necessarily of the highest
order. Lady Granville was noted for her admirable management of her
receptions, and her power of steering her way through the motley crowd
of visitors and residents presented to her. The charm of her manner was
very remarkable, and made a great impression on all who came in her way.
And, giving reality and absolute sincerity to all this unfailing
sweetness, Lady Granville was a deeply religious and conscientious
woman, who trained her daughters to the highest standard of excellence,
and taught them earnest devotion.
Naturally, French was as familiar to the young ladies as English, and
they became intimate with many of the best and purest families in
France, among others, with that of de Ferronaye, whose memoirs, as told
by one of them, Mrs. Augustus Craven, has touched many hearts. It was a
happy life, in which study and accomplishment had their place, and
gaieties did not lose the zest of youthful enjoyment because they were
part of the duty of station.