{5} Mr. R. R. Bowker.
{15} The school was founded by Thomas Sutton, a rich merchant, in 1611.
The buildings which are mostly of the 16th Century, had been used until
the Reformation, as a monastery of Carthusian monks. “Charterhouse” is a
corruption of Chartreuse, and the scholars still call themselves
Carthusians.
{19} Several relics of Thackeray are preserved in the new school at
Godalming, including some pen and ink sketches made by him, and five
volumes containing all the existing MS. of _The Newcomes_. The MS. is
written partly in his own hand, partly in the hand of Miss Anne Thackeray
(now Mrs. Ritchie), and partly in another hand. Several stones on which
some of the old scholars, including Thackeray, carved their names, have
also been removed from the old school in London to the new one.
{29} One day, while the great novel of _The Newcomes_ was in course of
publication, Lowell, who was then in London, met Thackeray in the street.
The novelist was serious in manner, and his looks and voice told of
weariness and affliction. He saw the kindly inquiry in the poet’s eyes,
and said, “Come into Evans’s, and I’ll tell you all about it. _I have
killed the Colonel_!” So they walked in, and took a table in a remote
corner, and then Thackeray, drawing the fresh sheets of MS. from his
breast pocket, read through that exquisitely touching chapter, which
records the death of Colonel Newcome. When he came to the final _Adsum_,
the tears which had been swelling his lids for some time, trickled down
his face, and the last word was almost an inarticulate sob.—F. H.
UNDERWOOD, in _Harper’s Magazine_.
{42} Mr. Edmund Yates states in his interesting _Memoirs of a Man of the
World_, that the Cider Cellars, next to the stage door of the Adelphi,
was the prototype of the Back Kitchen, immortalized in _Pendennis_. The
Cave of Harmony, frequently mentioned by Thackeray, was sketched from
Evans’s, in Covent Garden.
{72} “One day, many years ago, I saw him chaffing on the sidewalk in
London, in front of the Athenæum Club, with a monstrous-sized, ‘copiously
ebriose’ cabman, and I judged from the driver’s ludicrously careful way
of landing the coin deep down in his breeches-pocket, that Thackeray had
given him a very unusual fare. ‘Who is your fat friend?’ I asked,
crossing over to shake hands with him. ‘O! that indomitable youth is an
old crony of mine,’ he replied; and then, quoting Falstaff, ‘a goodly
portly man, i’ faith, and a corpulent, of a cheerful look, a pleasing
eye, and a most noble carriage.’ It was the _manner_ of saying this,
then and there, in the London street, the cabman moving slowly off on his
sorry vehicle, with one eye (an eye dewy with gin and water, and a tear
of gratitude, perhaps) on Thackeray, and the great man himself so jovial
and so full of kindness!”—_Yesterdays with Authors_. J. T. FIELDS.
{99} “I once made a pilgrimage with Thackeray (at my request, of course,
the visits were planned) to the various houses where his books had been
written; and I remember, when we came to Young street, Kensington, he
said, with mock gravity, ‘Down on your knees, you rogue, for here _Vanity
Fair_ was penned! And I will go down with you, for I have a high opinion
of that little production myself.’”—_Yesterdays with Authors_. J. T.
FIELDS.
{101} Kensington Square has had many celebrated inhabitants, including
Talleyrand, Joseph Addison, the Duchess of Mazarin, and Archbishop
Herring.