VARIOUS INSTRUMENTS (continued)
Many musical instruments and terms are mentioned by way of
illustration. Blathers, the Bow Street officer (_O.T._),
plays carelessly with his handcuffs as if they were a pair of
castanets. Miss Miggs (_B.R._) clanks her pattens as if they
were a pair of cymbals. Mr. Bounderby (_H.T._), during his
conversation with Harthouse,
with his hat in his hand, gave a beat upon the crown
at every division of his sentences, as if it were
a tambourine;
and in the same work the electric wires rule 'a colossal strip
of music-paper out of the evening sky.'
Perhaps the most extraordinary comparison is that instituted
by Mrs. Lirriper in reference to her late husband.
My poor Lirriper was a handsome figure of a man,
with a beaming eye and a voice as mellow as a musical
instrument made of honey and steel.
What a vivid imagination the good woman had! Her descriptive
powers remind us of those possessed by Mrs. Gamp in speaking
of the father of the mysterious Mrs. Harris.
As pleasant a singer, Mr. Chuzzlewit, as ever you heerd,
with a voice like a Jew's-harp in the bass notes.
There are many humorous references to remarkable performances on
various instruments more or less musical in their nature. During
the election at Eatanswill the crier performed two concertos
on his bell, and shortly afterwards followed them up with a
fantasia on the same instrument. Dickens suffered much from
church bells, and gives vent to his feelings about them in
_Little Dorrit_, where he says that
Maddening church bells of all degrees of dissonance,
sharp and flat, cracked and clear, fast and slow,
made the brick-and-mortar echoes hideous.
In his _Pictures from Italy_ he wrote thus:
At Genoa the bells of the church ring incessantly,
not in peals, or any known form of sound, but in
horrible, irregular, jerking dingle, dingle, dingle;
with a sudden stop at every fifteenth dingle or so,
which is maddening.... The noise is supposed to be
particularly obnoxious to evil spirits.
But it was these same bells, which he found so maddening,
that inspired him with the title of a well-known story. He
had chosen a subject, but was at a loss for a name. As he sat
working one morning there suddenly rose up from Genoa
the clang and clash of all its steeples, pouring into
his ears, again and again, in a tuneless, grating,
discordant jerking, hideous vibration that made his
ideas spin round and round till they lost themselves
in a whirl of vexation and giddiness, and dropped
down dead.... Only two days later came a letter in
which not a syllable was written but 'We have heard
THE CHIMES at midnight, Master Shallow,' and I knew
he had discovered what he wanted.[11]
Yet, in spite of all this, Dickens shows--through his
characters--a deep interest in bells and bell-lore. Little Paul
Dombey finds a man mending the clocks at Dr. Blimber's Academy,
and asks a multitude of questions about chimes and clocks;
as, whether people watched up in the lonely church steeples
by night to make them strike, and how the bells were rung
when people died, and whether those were different bells from
wedding-bells, or only sounded dismal in the fancies of the
living; and then the precocious small boy proceeds to give
the astonished clockmaker some useful information about King
Alfred's candles and curfew-bells.
As Smike and Nicholas tramp their long journey to Portsmouth
they hear the sheep-bells tinkling on the downs. To Tom Pinch
journeying Londonwards 'the brass work on the harness was a
complete orchestra of little bells.'
What a terror the bells are to Jonas Chuzzlewit just before
he starts on his evil journey! He hears
the ringers practising in a neighbouring church, and
the clashing of their bells was almost maddening. Curse
the clamouring bells! they seemed to know that he
was listening at the door, and to proclaim it in a
crowd of voices to all the town! Would they never be
still? They ceased at last, and then the silence was
so new and terrible that it seemed the prelude to some
dreadful noise.
The boom of the bell is associated with many of the villains
of the novels. Fagin hears it when under sentence of death.
Blackpool and Carker hear the accusing bells when in the midst
of planning their evil deeds.
We can read the characters of some by the way they ring a
bell. The important little Mr. Bailey, when he goes to see his
friend Poll Sweedlepipe (_M.C._) 'came in at the door with
a lunge, to get as much sound out of the bell as possible,'
while Bob Sawyer gives a pull as if he would bring it up by
the roots. Mr. Clennam pulls the rope with a hasty jerk,
and Mr. Watkins Tottle with a faltering jerk, while Tom Pinch
gives a gentle pull. And how angry Mr. Mantalini is with
Newman Noggs because he keeps him
'ringing at this confounded old cracked tea-kettle
of a bell, every tinkle of which is enough to throw
a strong man into convulsions, upon my life and
soul,--oh demmit.'
The introduction of electric bells has been a great trial to
those who used to vent their wrath on the wire-pulled article
or the earlier bell-rope, which used not infrequently to add
unnecessary fuel by coming incontinently down on the head of
the aggrieved one. What a pull the fierce gentleman must have
given whose acquaintance Mr. Pickwick made when he was going
to Bath! He had been kept waiting for his buttered toast,
so he (Captain Dowler)
rang the bell with great violence, and told the waiter
he'd better bring the toast in five seconds, or he'd
know the reason why.
Dickens rang far more changes on the bells than there is space
to enumerate; but I have shown to what extent he makes their
sound a commentary on innumerable phases of life. A slight
technical knowledge of bell phraseology is found in _Barnaby
Rudge_ (7), where he mentions the variations known as a
'triple bob major.' Finally there is an interesting reference
in _Master Humphrey's Clock_ to a use of the bell which has
now passed into history. Belinda says in a postscript to a
letter to Master Humphrey, 'The bellman, rendered impatient
by delay, is ringing dreadfully in the passage'; while in a
second PS. she says, 'I open this to say the bellman is gone,
and that you must not expect it till the next post.'
In the old days it was the custom for the letter-carriers to
collect letters by ringing a bell.
There is no doubt that a most extraordinary, certainly a
most original, musical effect is that secured by Mr. George
(_B.H._), who had just finished smoking.
'Do you know what that tune is, Mr. Smallweed?' he adds,
after breaking off to whistle one, accompanied on the
table with the empty pipe.
'Tune,' replies the old man. 'No, we never have
tunes here.'
'That's the "Dead March" in _Saul_. They bury soldiers
to it, so it's the natural end of the subject.'
Surely a highly original way of bringing a conversation to
a close!
This march is referred to in _Our Mutual Friend_, where
Mr. Wilfer suggests that going through life with Mrs. Wilfer
is like keeping time to the 'Dead March' in _Saul_, from
which singular simile we may gather that this lady was not
the liveliest of companions.
Several other instruments are casually mentioned. Mr. Hardy
(_S.B.T._ 7) was a master of many accomplishments.
He could sing comic songs, imitate hackney coachmen
and fowls, play airs on his chin, and execute concertos
on the Jew's harp.
The champion 'chin' performer of the early Victorian period
was Michael Boai, 'The celebrated chin melodist,' who was
announced to perform 'some of his admired pieces' at many
of the places of entertainment. There is another reference
to this extraordinary way of producing music in _Sketches by
Boz_, where Mrs. Tippin performed an air with variations on the
guitar, 'accompanied on the chin by Master Tippin.' To return
to Mr. Hardy, this gentleman was evidently deeply interested
in all sorts and degrees of music, but he got out of his depth
in a conversation with the much-travelled Captain Helves. After
the three Miss Briggses had finished their guitar performances,
Mr. Hardy approached the Captain with the question, 'Did you
ever hear a Portuguese tambourine?'
'Did _you_ ever hear a tom-tom, sir?' sternly inquired
the Captain, who lost no opportunity of showing off
his travels, real or pretended.
'A what?' asked Hardy, rather taken aback.
'A tom-tom.'
'Never.'
'Nor a gum-gum?'
'Never.'
'What _is_ a gum-gum?' eagerly inquired several
young ladies.
The question is unanswered to this day, though Hardy afterwards
suggests it is another name for a humbug.
When Dickens visited the school where the half-time system
was in force, he found the boys undergoing military and naval
drill. A small boy played the fife while the others went
through their exercises. After that a boys' band appeared,
the youngsters being dressed in a neat uniform. Then came
a choral class, who sang 'the praises of a summer's day to
a harmonium.' In the arithmetical exercises the small piper
excels (_U.T._ 29).
Wise as the serpent is the four feet of performer on
the nearest approach to that instrument.
This was written when the serpent was practically extinct, but
Dickens would be very familiar with the name of the instrument,
and may have seen and heard it in churches in his younger days.
In referring to another boy's attempt at solving the
arithmetical puzzles, he mentions the cymbals, combined with
a faint memory of St. Paul.
I observe the player of the cymbals to dash at a
sounding answer now and then rather than not cut in at
all; but I take that to be in the way of his instrument.
In _Great Expectations_ Mr. Wopsle, who is a parish clerk
by profession, had an ambition not only to tread the boards,
but to start off as Hamlet. His appearance was not a success,
and the audience was derisive.
On his taking the recorders--very like a little black
flute that had just been played in the orchestra and
handed out at the door--he was called upon unanimously
for 'Rule Britannia.'
Reference has already been made to Bucket's music-shop,
so we must not forget to visit Caleb Plummer's little room,
where there were
scores of melancholy little carts which, when the
wheels went round, performed most doleful music. Many
small fiddles, drums, and other instruments of torture.
The old man made a rude kind of harp specially for his poor
blind daughter, and on which Dot used to play when she visited
the toy-maker's. Caleb's musical contribution would be 'a
Bacchanalian song, something about a sparkling bowl,' which
much annoyed his grumpy employer.
'What! you're singing, are you?' said Tackleton, putting
his head in at the door. 'Go it, _I_ can't sing.'
Nobody would have suspected him of it. He hadn't what
is generally termed a singing face, by any means.
The wonderful duet between the cricket and the kettle at the
commencement of _The Cricket on the Hearth_ certainly deserves
mention, though it is rather difficult to know whether to
class the performers as instrumentalists or singers. The kettle
began it with a series of short vocal snorts, which at first
it checked in the bud, but finally it burst into a stream of
song, 'while the lid performed a sort of jig, and clattered
like a deaf and dumb cymbal that had never known the use of its
twin brother.' Then the cricket came in with its chirp, chirp,
chirp, and at it they went in fierce rivalry until 'the kettle,
being dead beat, boiled over, and was taken off the fire.'
Dickens was certainly partial to the cricket, for elsewhere
(_M.H.C._) we read of the clock that
makes cheerful music, like one of those chirping
insects who delight in the warm hearth.
There are two or three references to the key bugle, which
also used to be known as the Kent bugle. It was a popular
instrument half a century ago, as the addition of keys gave
it a much greater range of notes than the ordinary bugle
possessed. A notable though inefficient performer was the
driver who took Martin Chuzzlewit up to London.
He was musical, besides, and had a little key bugle in
his pocket on which, whenever the conversation flagged,
he played the first part of a great many tunes, and
regularly broke down in the second.
This instrument was on Mr. Feeder's _agenda_.
Two more instruments demand our attention. At the marriage
of Tackleton and May Fielding (_C.H._) there were to be
marrow-bones and cleavers, while to celebrate the union of
Trotty Veck's daughter Meg and Richard they had a band including
the aforesaid instruments and also the drum and the bells. It
was formerly the custom for butchers' assistants to provide
themselves with marrow-bones and cleavers for musical effects.
Each cleaver was ground so that when it was struck with the
bone it emitted a certain note.[12] A complete band would
consist of eight men, with their cleavers so tuned as to give
an octave of notes. After more or less practice they would
offer their services as bandsmen on the occasion of marriage
ceremonies, which they had a wonderful faculty for locating,
and they would provide music (of a kind) _ad libitum_ until the
requisite fee was forthcoming. If their services were declined
the butchers would turn up all the same, and make things very
unpleasant for the marriage party. The custom dates from the
eighteenth century, and though it has gradually fallen into
disuse a marrow-bone and cleaver band is still available in
London for those who want it. A band took part in a wedding
ceremony at Clapham as recently as the autumn of 1911.
The following extract, referring to the second marriage of
Mr. Dombey, shows what bridal parties had to put up with in
the good old days:
The men who play the bells have got scent of the
marriage; and the marrow-bones and cleavers too;
and a brass band too. The first are practising in
a back settlement near Battle-bridge[13]; the second
put themselves in communication, through their chief,
with Mr. Tomlinson, to whom they offer terms to be
bought off; and the third, in the person of an artful
trombone, lurks and dodges round the corner, waiting
for some traitor-tradesman to reveal the place and
hour of breakfast, for a bribe.
Other instruments casually referred to are the Pan's pipes,
which in one place is also called a mouth-organ (_S.B.S._ 20),
the flageolet, and the triangle. It is difficult to classify
the walking-stick on which Mr. Jennings Rudolph played tunes
before he went behind the parlour door and gave his celebrated
imitations of actors, edgetools, and animals (_S.B.C._ 8).
[11] Forster, _Life of Charles Dickens._
[12] This is rather a modern development.
[13] Near King's Cross Station (G.N.R.).