Thackerayana: Notes and Anecdotes
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Title: Thackerayana: Notes and Anecdotes
Compiler: Joseph Grego
Illustrator: William Makepeace Thackeray
Release date: January 2, 2014 [eBook #44563]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THACKERAYANA: NOTES AND ANECDOTES ***
Transcriber's Note:
Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have
been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by =equal
signs=.
On page 204, "couch" should possibly be "conch".
On page 345, the quote should probably read "ut melior vir"...
THACKERAYANA.
LONDON: PRINTED BY
SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE
AND PARLIAMENT STREET
[Illustration]
THACKERAYANA
NOTES AND ANECDOTES
Illustrated by Hundreds of Sketches
BY
WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY
Depicting Humorous Incidents in his School Life, and Favourite
Scenes and Characters in the Books of his Every-day Reading
A NEW EDITION
London
CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY
INTRODUCTION.
[Illustration]
A large portion of the public, and especially that smaller section of
the community, the readers of books, will not easily forget the shock,
as universal as it was unexpected, which was produced at Christmas,
1863, by the almost incredible intelligence of the death of William
Makepeace Thackeray. The mournful news was repeated at many a
Christmas table, that he, who had led the simple Colonel Newcome to
his solemn and touching end, would write no more. The circumstance was
so startling from the suddenness of the great loss which society at
large had sustained, that it was some time before people could realise
the dismal truth of the report.
It will be easily understood, without elaborating on so saddening a
theme, with how much keener a blow this heavy bereavement must have
struck the surviving relatives of the great novelist. It does not come
within our province to speak of the paralysing effect of such emotion;
it is sufficient to recall that Thackeray's death, with its
overwhelming sorrow, left, in the hour of their trial, his two young
daughters deprived of the fatherly active mind which had previously
shielded from them the graver responsibilities of life, with the
additional anxiety of being forced to act in their own interests at
the very time such exertions were peculiarly distracting.
It may be remembered that the author of 'Vanity Fair' had but recently
erected, from his own designs, the costly and handsome mansion in
which he anticipated passing the mellower years of his life; a
dwelling in every respect suited to the high standing of its owner,
and, as has been said by a brother writer, 'worthy of one who really
represented literature in the great world, and who, planting himself
on his books, yet sustained the character of his profession with all
the dignity of a gentleman.'
In such a house a portion of Thackeray's fortune might be reasonably
invested. To the occupant it promised the enjoyment he was justified
in anticipating, and was a solid property to bequeath his descendants
when age, in its sober course, should have called him hence. But
little more than a year later, to those deadened with the effects of
so terrible a bereavement as their loss must have proved when they
could realise its fulness, this house must have been a source of
desolation. Its oppressive size, its infinitely mournful associations,
the hopeful expectations with which it had been erected, the tragic
manner in which the one dearest to them had there been stricken down;
with all this acting on the sensibilities of unhealed grief, the
building must have impressed them with peculiar aversion; and hence it
may be concluded that their first desire was to leave it. The removal
to a house of dimensions more suitable to their requirements involved
the sacrifice of those portions of the contents of the larger mansion
with which it was considered expedient to dispense; and thus Messrs.
Christie, Manson, and Woods announced for sale a selection from the
paintings, drawings, part of the interesting collection of curious
porcelain, and such various objects of art or furniture as would
otherwise have necessitated the continuance of a house as large as
that at Palace Green. These valuable objects were accordingly
dispersed under the hammer, March 16 and 17, 1864, and on the
following day the remainder of Thackeray's library was similarly
offered to public competition. To anyone familiar with Thackeray's
writings, and more especially with his Lectures and Essays, this
collection of books must have been both instructive and fascinating;
seeing that they faithfully indicated the course of their owner's
readings, and through them might be traced many an allusion or curious
fact of contemporaneous manners, which, in the hands of this master of
his craft, had been felicitously employed to strengthen the purpose of
some passage of his own compositions.
Without converting this introduction into a catalogue of the contents
of Thackeray's library it is difficult to particularise the several
works found on his book-shelves. It is sufficient to note that all the
authorities which have been quoted in his Essays were fitly
represented; that such books, in many instances obscure and trivial in
themselves, as threw any new or curious light upon persons or
things--on the private and individual, as well as the public or
political history of men, and of the events or writings to which
their names owe notoriety, of obsolete fashions or of the changing
customs of society--were as numerous as the most ardent and
_dilettanti_ of Thackeray's admirers could desire.
The present volume is devised to give a notion, necessarily
restricted, of certain selections from these works, chiefly chosen
with a view of further illustrating the bent of a mind, with the
workings of which all who love the great novelist's writings may at
once be admitted to the frankest intercourse. It has been truly said
that Thackeray was 'too great to conceal anything.' The same candour
is extended to his own copies of the books which told of times and
company wherein his imagination delighted to dwell; for, pencil in
hand, he has recorded the impressions of the moment without reserve,
whether whimsical or realistic.
A collection of books of this character is doubly interesting. On the
one hand were found the remnants of earlier humourists, the quaint old
literary standards which became, in the hands of their owner,
materials from which were derived the local colouring of the times
concerning which it was his delightful fancy to construct romances, to
philosophise, or to record seriously.
On the other hand, the present generation was fitly represented. To
most of the writers of his own era it was an honour that a
presentation copy of their literary offspring should be found in the
library of the foremost author, whose friendship and open-handed
kindness to the members of his profession was one of many brilliant
traits of a character dignified by innumerable great qualities, and
tenderly shaded by instances uncountable of generous readiness to
confer benefits, and modest reticence to let the fame of his goodness
go forth.
Presentation copies from his contemporaries were therefore not scarce;
and whether the names of the donors were eminent, or as yet but little
heard of, the creatures of their thoughts had been preserved with
unvarying respect. The 'Christmas Carol,' that memorable Christmas
gift which Thackeray has praised with fervour unusual even to his
impetuous good-nature, was one of the books. The copy, doubly
interesting from the circumstances both of its authorship and
ownership, was inscribed in the well-known hand of that other great
novelist of the nineteenth century, 'W. M. Thackeray, from Charles
Dickens (_whom he made very happy once a long way from home_).'
Competition was eager to secure this covetable literary memorial,
which may one day become historical; it was knocked down at 25_l._
10_s._, and rumour circulated through the press, without foundation,
we believe with regret, that it had been secured for the highest
personage in the State, whose desire to possess this volume would have
been a royal compliment to the community of letters.
Nor were books with histories wanting. George Augustus Sala, in the
introduction to his ingenious series of 'Twice Round the Clock,'
published in 1862, remarks with diffidence: 'It would be a piece of
sorry vanity on my part to imagine that the conception of a Day and
Night in London is original. I will tell you how I came to think of
the scheme of "Twice Round the Clock." Four years ago, in Paris, my
then master in literature, Mr. Charles Dickens, lent me a little thin
octavo volume, which I believe had been presented to him by another
master of the craft, Mr. Thackeray.' A slight resemblance to this
opuscule was offered in 'A View of the Transactions of London and
Westminster from the Hours of Ten in the Evening till Five in the
Morning,' which was secured at Thackeray's sale for forty-four
shillings.
Thus, without presuming to any special privileges, we account for the
selection of literary curiosities which form settings for the
fragments gathered in 'Thackerayana,' The point of interest which
rendered this dispersion of certain of Thackeray's books additionally
attractive to us may be briefly set forth.
In looking through the pages of odd little volumes, and on the margins
and fly-leaves of some of the choicest works, presentation copies or
otherwise, it was noticed that pencil or pen-and-ink sketches, of
faithful conceptions suggested by the texts, touched in most cases
with remarkable neatness and decision, were abundantly dispersed
through various series.
It is notorious that their owner's gift of dexterous sketching was
marvellous; his rapid facility, in the minds of those critics who knew
him intimately, was the one great impediment to any serious
advancement in those branches of art which demand a lengthy
probationship; and to this may be referred his implied failure, or but
partial success, in the art which, to him, was of all cultivated
accomplishments the most enticing. The fact has been dwelt on gravely
by his friends, and was a source of regret to certain eminent artists
best acquainted with his remarkable endowments.
The chance of securing as many of these characteristic designs as was
in our power directed the selection of books which came into our
possession in consequence of the sale of Thackeray's library; it was
found they were richer in these clever pencillings than had been
anticipated.
An impulse thus given, the excitement of increasing the little
gathering was carried further; many volumes which had been dispersed
were traced, or were offered spontaneously when the fact of the
collection became known. From books wherein, pencil in hand, passages
had been noted with sprightly little vignettes, not unlike the telling
etchings which the author of 'Vanity Fair' caused to be inserted in
his own published works, we became desirous of following the evidence
of this faculty through other channels; seeing we held the Alpha, as
it were, inserted in the Charterhouse School books, and the later
pencillings, which might enliven any work of the hour indifferently,
as it excited the imagination, grotesque or artist-like, as the case
might be, of the original reader, whether the book happened to be a
modest magazine in paper or an _édition de luxe_ in morocco.
A demand created, the supply, though of necessity limited, was for a
time forthcoming. The energy, which fosters a mania for collecting,
was aided by one of those unlooked-for chances which sustain such
pursuits, and, from such congenial sources as the early companions of
the author, sufficient material came into our possession to enable us
to trace Thackeray's graphic ambition throughout his career with an
approach to consistency, following his efforts in this direction
through his school days, in boyish diversions, and among early
favourites of fiction; as an undergraduate of Cambridge; on trips to
Paris; as a student at Weimar and about Germany; through magazines,
to Paris, studying in the Louvre; to Rome, dwelling among artists;
through his contributions to 'Fraser's,' and that costly abortive
newspaper speculation the 'Constitutional;' through the slashing
Bohemian days, to the period of 'Vanity Fair;' through successes,
repeated and sustained--Lectures and Essays; through travels at home
and abroad--to America, from Cornhill to Grand Cairo, to Scotland, to
Ireland, 'Up the Rhine,' Switzerland, Italy, Belgium, Holland, and
wherever Roundabout 'sketches by the way' might present themselves.
The study which had attracted an individual, elicited the sympathy of
a larger circle. The many who preserve mementos similar to those
dispersed through 'Thackerayana' enlarged on the general interest of
the materials, and especially upon the gratification which that part
of the public representing Thackeray's admirers would discover in such
original memorials of our eminent novelist; and which, from the nature
of his gifts, and the almost unique propensity for their exercise,
would be impossible in the case of almost any other man of kindred
genius.
Selections from the sketches were accordingly produced in _facsimile_,
only such subjects being used as, from their relation to the context,
derived sufficient coherence to be generally appreciable.
The writer is aware that many such memorials exist, some of them
unquestionably of greater worth in themselves than several that are
found in the present gathering; but it is not probable, either from
their private nature, the circumstances of their ownership, or from
the fact that, in their isolated condition, they do not illustrate any
particular stage of their author's progress, that the public will ever
become familiar with them.
'Thackerayana' is issued with a sense of imperfections; many more
finished or pretentious drawings might have been offered, but the
illustrations have been culled with a sense of their fitness to the
subject in view. It is the intention to present Thackeray in the
aspect his ambition preferred--as a sketcher; his pencil and pen
bequeath us matter to follow his career; we recognise that delightful
gift, a facility for making rapid little pictures on the inspiration
of the moment; it is an endless source of pleasure to the person who
may exercise this faculty, and treasures up the most abundant and
life-like reminiscences for the delectation of others. It will be
understood as no implied disparagement of more laboured masterpieces
if we observe that the composition of historical works, the conception
and execution of _chefs-d'œuvre_, are grave, lengthy, and
systematic operations, not to be lightly intruded on; they involve
much time and preparation, many essays, failures, alterations,
corrections, much grouping of accessories, posing of models, and
setting of lay-figures; they become oppressive after a time, and
demand a strain of absorption to accomplish, and an effort of mind to
appreciate, which are not to be daily exerted; long intervals are
required to recruit after such labours; but the bright, ready
_croquis_ of the instant, if not profound, embalms the life that is
passing and incessant; the incident too fleeting to be preserved on
the canvas, or in a more ambitious walk of the art, lives in the
little sketch-book; it is grateful to the hand which jots it down, and
has the agreeable result of being able to extend that pleasure to all
who may glance therein. If it was one of Thackeray's few fanciful
griefs that he was not destined for a painter of the grand order, it
doubtless consoled him to find that the happier gift of embodying
that abstract creation--an idea--in a few strokes of the pencil was
his beyond all question; and this graceful faculty he was accustomed
to exercise so industriously, that myriads of examples survive of the
originality of his invention as an artist, in addition to the
brilliant fancy and sterling truth to be found in his works as an
author.
[Illustration]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Voyage from India -- Touching at St. Helena -- School days at the
Charterhouse -- Early Reminiscences -- Sketches in School Books
-- Boyish Scribblings -- Favourite Fictions -- Youthful
Caricatures -- Souvenirs of the Play 1
CHAPTER II.
Early Favourites -- The 'Castle of Otranto' -- Rollin's 'Ancient
History' 18
CHAPTER III.
Thackeray's last visit to the Charterhouse -- College days --
Pendennis at Cambridge -- Sketches of Universities -- Sporting
subjects -- Etchings at Cambridge -- Pencillings in old authors
-- Pictorial Puns -- The 'Snob,' a Literary and Scientific
Journal -- 'Timbuctoo,' a Prize Poem 47
CHAPTER IV.
Early Favourites -- Fielding's 'Joseph Andrews' -- Imitators of
Fielding -- The 'Adventures of Captain Greenland' -- 'Jack
Connor' -- 'Chrysal; or, the Adventures of a Guinea' 71
CHAPTER V.
Continental Rambles -- A Stolen Trip to Paris -- Residence at
Weimar -- Contributions to Albums -- Burlesque State -- German
Sketches and Studies -- The Weimar Theatre -- Goethe -- Souvenirs
of the Saxon city -- 'Journal kept during a Visit to Germany' 89
CHAPTER VI.
Thackeray's Predilections for Art -- A Student in Paris -- First
Steps in the Career -- An Art Critic -- Introduction to Marvy's
'English Landscape Painters' -- Early Connection with Literature
-- Michael Angelo Titmarsh, a contributor to 'Fraser's Magazine'
-- French Caricature under Louis Philippe -- Political Satires --
A Young Artist's life in Paris -- Growing Sympathy with
Literature 114
CHAPTER VII.
'Elizabeth Brownrigge: a Tale,' 1832 -- 'Comic Magazine,' 1832-4
-- 'National Standard and Literary Representative,' 1833-4 --
'Flore et Zéphyr, Ballet Mythologique,' 1836 -- On the Staff of
'Fraser's Magazine' -- Early Connection with Maginn and his
Colleagues -- The Maclise Cartoon of the Fraserians --
Thackeray's _Noms de Plume_ -- Charles Yellowplush as a Reviewer
-- Skelton and his 'Anatomy of Conduct' -- Thackeray's Proposal
to Dickens to illustrate his Novels -- Gradual Growth of
Thackeray's Notoriety -- His Genial Admiration for 'Boz' --
Christmas Books and Dickens's 'Christmas Carol' -- Return to
Paris -- Execution of Fieschi and Lacénaire -- Daily Newspaper
Venture -- The 'Constitutional' and 'Public Ledger' -- Thackeray
as Paris Correspondent -- Dying Speech of the 'Constitutional' --
Thackeray's Marriage -- Increased Application to Literature --
The 'Shabby Genteel Story' -- Thackeray's Article in the
'Westminster' on George Cruikshank -- First Collected Writings --
The 'Paris Sketch-Book' -- Dedication to M. Aretz -- 'Comic Tales
and Sketches,' with Thackeray's original Illustrations -- The
'Yellowplush Papers' -- The 'Second Funeral of Napoleon,' with
the 'Chronicles of the Drum' -- The 'History of Samuel Titmarsh
and the great Hoggarty Diamond' -- 'Fitzboodle's Confessions' --
The 'Irish Sketch-Book,' with the Author's Illustrations -- The
'Luck of Barry Lyndon' -- Contributions to the 'Examiner' --
Miscellanies -- 'Carmen Lilliense' -- 'Notes on a Journey from
Cornhill to Grand Cairo,' with the Author's Illustrations --
Interest excited in Titmarsh -- Foundation of 'Punch' --
Thackeray's Contributions -- His comic Designs -- The 'Fat
Contributor' -- 'Jeames's Diary' 124
CHAPTER VIII.
Increasing reputation -- Later writings in 'Fraser' -- 'Mrs.
Perkins's Ball,' with Thackeray's Illustrations -- Early
Vicissitudes of 'Pencil Sketches of English Society' --
Thackeray's connection with the Temple -- Appearance of 'Vanity
Fair,' with the Author's original Illustrations -- Appreciative
notice in the 'Edinburgh Review' -- The impression produced --
'Our Street,' with Titmarsh's Pencillings of some of its
Inhabitants -- The History of Pendennis,' illustrated by the
Author -- 'Dr. Birch and his Young Friends,' with illustrations
by M. A. Titmarsh -- 'Rebecca and Rowena' -- The Dignity of
Literature and the 'Examiner' and 'Morning Chronicle' newspapers
-- Sensitiveness to Hostile Criticism -- The 'Kickleburys on the
Rhine,' with illustrations by M. A. Titmarsh -- Adverse bias of
the 'Times' newspaper -- Thackeray's reply -- An 'Essay on
Thunder and Small Beer' 161
CHAPTER IX.
Commencement of the Series of Early Essayists -- Thackeray as a
Lecturer -- The 'English Humourists of the Eighteenth Century' --
Charlotte Brontë at Thackeray's Readings -- The Lectures repeated
in Edinburgh -- An invitation to visit America -- Transatlantic
popularity -- Special success attending the reception of the
'English Humourists' in the States -- 'Week-day Preachers' --
Enthusiastic Farewell -- Appleton's New York edition of
Thackeray's Works; the Author's introduction, and remarks on
International Copyright -- Thackeray's departure -- Cordial
impression bequeathed to America -- The 'History of Henry
Esmonde, a story of Queen Anne's Reign' -- The writers of the
Augustan Era -- The 'Newcomes' -- An allusion to George
Washington misunderstood -- A second visit to America -- Lectures
on the 'Four Georges' -- The series repeated at home -- Scotch
sympathy -- Thackeray proposed as a candidate to represent Oxford
in Parliament -- His liberal views and impartiality 171
CHAPTER X.
Curious Authors from Thackeray's Library, indicating the course
of his Readings -- Early Essayists illustrated with the
Humourist's Pencillings -- Bishop Earle's 'Microcosmography; a
piece of the World Characterised,' 1628 -- An 'Essay in Defence
of the Female Sex,' 1697 -- Thackeray's Interest in Works on the
Spiritual World -- 'Flagellum Dæmonum, et Fustis Dæmonum. Auctore
R. P. F. Hieronymo Mengo,' 1727 -- 'La Magie et L'Astrologie,'
par L. F. Alfred Maury -- 'Magic, Witchcraft, Animal Magnetism,
Hypnotism, and Electro Biology,' by James Baird, 1852 186
CHAPTER XI.
ENGLISH ESSAYISTS OF THE GEORGIAN ERA.
Early Essayists whose Writings have furnished Thackeray with the
Accessories of Portions of his Novels and Lectures -- Works from
the Novelist's Library, elucidating his Course of Reading for the
Preparation of his 'Lectures' -- 'Henry Esmond,' 'The
Virginians,' &c. -- Characteristic Passages from the Lucubrations
of the Essayists of the Augustan Era illustrated with original
Marginal Sketches, suggested by the Text, by Thackeray's hand --
The 'Tatler' -- Its History and Influence -- Reforms introduced
by the purer Style of the Essayists -- The Literature of Queen
Anne's Reign -- Thackeray's Love for the Writings of the Period
-- His Gift of reproducing their masterly and simple style of
Composition; their Irony, and playful Humour -- Extracts from
notable Essays; illustrated with original Pencillings from the
Series of the 'Tatler,' 1709 221
CHAPTER XII.
THACKERAY'S RESEARCHES AMONGST THE WRITINGS OF THE
EARLY ESSAYISTS -- _Continued._
Extracts of Characteristic Passages from the Works of the
'Humourists,' from Thackeray's Library, illustrated with Original
Marginal Sketches by the Author's hand -- The Series of THE
'GUARDIAN,' 1713 -- Introduction -- Steele's Programme -- Authors
who contributed to the 'Guardian' -- Paragraphs and Pencillings
275
CHAPTER XIII.
THACKERAY'S RESEARCHES AMONGST THE WRITINGS OF THE
EARLY ESSAYISTS -- _Continued._
Characteristic passages from the Works of Humorous Writers of the
'Era of the Georges,' from Thackeray's Library, illustrated with
original Marginal Sketches by the Author's hand -- THE
'HUMOURIST,' 1724 -- Extracts and Pencillings 299
CHAPTER XIV.
THACKERAY'S RESEARCHES AMONGST THE WRITINGS OF THE
EARLY ESSAYISTS -- _Continued._
Characteristic Passages from the Works of the 'Humourists,' from
Thackeray's Library, illustrated by the Author's hand, with
Marginal Sketches suggested by the Text -- THE 'WORLD,' 1753 --
Introduction -- Its Difference from the Earlier Essays --
Distinguished Authors who contributed to the 'World' --
Paragraphs and Pencillings 318
CHAPTER XV.
THACKERAY'S FAMILIARITY WITH THE WRITINGS OF THE
SATIRICAL ESSAYISTS -- _Continued._
Characteristic Passages from the compositions of the 'Early
Humourists,' from Thackeray's Library, illustrated by the
Author's hand with original Marginal Sketches suggested by the
Text -- The 'CONNOISSEUR,' 1754 -- Introduction -- Review of
Contributors -- Paragraphs and Pencillings 357
CHAPTER XVI.
THACKERAY'S RESEARCHES AMONGST THE WRITINGS OF THE
EARLY ESSAYISTS -- _Continued._
Characteristic Passages from the Works of the 'Humourists,' from
Thackeray's Library; illustrated by the Author's hand with
Marginal Sketches suggested by the Text -- THE 'RAMBLER,' 1749-50
-- Introduction -- Its Author, Dr. Johnson -- Paragraphs and
Pencillings 370
CHAPTER XVII.
THACKERAY'S FAMILIARITY WITH THE WRITINGS OF THE
SATIRICAL ESSAYISTS -- _Continued._
Characteristic Passages from the Works of the 'Early Humourists,'
from Thackeray's Library, illustrated by the Author's hand with
original Marginal Sketches suggested by the Text -- The 'MIRROR,'
Edinburgh, 1779-80 -- Introduction -- The Society in which the
'MIRROR,' and 'Lounger' originated -- Notice of Contributors --
Paragraphs and Pencillings 408
CHAPTER XVIII.
Thackeray as an Illustrator -- The 'North British Review' on
Thackeray -- Illustrations to 'Men of Character' -- 'The
Whitey-brown Paper Magazine' -- 'Comic Tales,' illustrated by
Thackeray -- Allusions to Caricature Drawing found throughout his
writings -- Skits on Fashion -- Titmarsh on 'Men and Clothes' --
Bohemianism in youth -- Hatred of Conventionality -- Sketches of
Contemporary Habits and Manners -- Imaginative Illustrations to
Romances -- Skill in Ludicrous Parody -- Burlesque of the
'Official Handbook of Court and State' 436
CHAPTER XIX.
Thackeray as a Traveller -- Journey in Youth from India to
England -- Little Travels at Home -- Sojourn in Germany -- French
Trips -- Residence in Paris -- Studies in Rome -- Sketches and
Scribblings in Guide-Books -- Little Tours and Wayside Studies --
Brussels -- Ghent and the Béguines -- Bruges -- _Croquis_ in
Murray's 'Handbooks to the Continent' -- Up the Rhine -- 'From
Cornhill to Grand Cairo' -- Journeys to America -- Switzerland --
'A Leaf out of a Sketch-Book' -- The Grisons -- Verona --
'Roundabout Journeys' -- Belgium and Holland 465
CHAPTER XX.
Commencement of the 'Cornhill Magazine' -- 'Roundabout Papers' --
'Lovel the Widower' -- The 'Adventures of Philip on his Way
through the World' -- Lectures on the 'Four Georges' -- Editorial
Penalties -- The 'Thorn in the Cushion' -- Harass from
disappointed Contributors -- Vexatious Correspondents --
Withdrawal from the arduous post of Editor -- Building of
Thackeray's House in Kensington Palace Gardens -- Christmas 1863
-- Death of the great Novelist -- The unfinished Work --
Circumstances of the Author's last Illness -- His Death 488
THACKERAYANA.
CHAPTER I.
Voyage from India -- Touching at St. Helena -- School days at the
Charterhouse -- Early Reminiscences -- Sketches in School Books
-- Boyish Scribblings -- Favourite Fictions -- Youthful
Caricatures -- Souvenirs of the Play.
[Illustration: View of Life as seen through the Charterhouse Gates]
The fondness of Thackeray for lingering amidst the scenes of a boy's
daily life in a public grammar school, has generally been attributed
to his early education at the Charterhouse, that celebrated
monastic-looking establishment in the neighbourhood of Smithfield,
which he scarcely disguised from his readers as the original of the
familiar 'Greyfriars' of his works of fiction. Most of our novelists
have given us in various forms their school reminiscences; but none
have produced them so frequently, or dwelt upon them with such
manifest bias towards the subject, as the author of 'Vanity Fair,'
'The Newcomes,' and 'The Adventures of Philip.' It is pleasing to
think that this habit, which Thackeray was well aware had been
frequently censured by his critics as carried to excess, was, like his
partiality for the times of Queen Anne and the Georges, in some degree
due to the traditional reverence of his family for the memory of their
great-grandfather, Dr. Thomas Thackeray, the well-remembered
head-master of Harrow.
[Illustration: An Exile]
[Illustration: A Sentry]
Sketches of Indian life and Anglo-Indians generally are abundantly
interspersed through Mr. Thackeray's writings, but he left India too
early to have profited much by Indian experiences. He is said,
however, to have retained so strong an impression of the scene of his
early childhood, as to have wished in later life to revisit it, and
recall such things as were still remembered by him. In his seventh
year he was sent to England, and when the ship touched at St. Helena,
he was taken up to have a glimpse of Bowood, and there saw that great
Captain at whose name the rulers of the earth had so often trembled.
It is remarkable that in his little account of the second funeral of
Napoleon, which he witnessed in Paris in 1840, no allusion to this
fact appears; but he himself has described it in one of his latest
works--the lectures on 'The Four Georges,' first delivered in the
United States in 1855-56, and afterwards described by the _Athenæum_
as 'an airy, humorous, and brilliant picture of English life and
manners, produced by honest reading out of many books, and lighted
with the glow of individual sympathy and intellect.'
[Illustration: A highly respectable Member of Society]
[Illustration: A Master of Arts]
We fancy that Thackeray was placed under the protection of his
grandfather, William Makepeace Thackeray, who had settled with a good
fortune, the fruit of his industry in India, at Hadley, near Chipping
Barnet, a little village, in the churchyard of which lies buried the
once-read Mrs. Chapone, the authoress of the 'Letters on the
Improvement of the Mind,' the correspondent of Richardson, and the
intimate friend of the learned Mrs. Carter and other blue-stocking
ladies of that time.
In the course of time--we believe in his twelfth year--Thackeray was
sent to the Charterhouse School, and remained there as a boarder in
the house of Mr. Penny. He appears in the Charterhouse records for the
year 1822 as a boy on the tenth form. In the next year we find him
promoted to the seventh form; in 1824 to the fifth; and in 1828, when
he had become a day-boy, or one residing with his friends, we find him
in the honourable positions of a first-form boy and one of the
monitors of the school. He was, however, never chosen as one of the
orators, or those who speak the oration on the Founder's Day, nor does
he appear among the writers of the Charterhouse odes, which have been
collected and printed from time to time in a small volume. We need
feel no surprise that Thackeray's ambition did not lead him to seek
this sort of distinction; like most keen humorists, he preferred
exercising his powers of satire in burlesquing these somewhat trite
compositions to contributing seriously to swell their numbers. Prize
poems ever yielded the novelist a delightful field for his sarcasms.
[Illustration: A Man of Letters]
[Illustration: Early efforts at Drawing]
While pursuing his studies at 'Smiffle,' as the Carthusians were
pleased to style 'Greyfriars,' Thackeray gave abundant evidences of
the gifts that were in him. He scribbled juvenile verses, towards the
close of his school days, displaying taste for the healthy sarcasm
which afterwards became one of his distinctive qualities, at the
expense of the prosaic compositions set down as school verses. In one
of his class books, 'Thucydides,' with his autograph, 'Charter House,
1827,' are scribbled two verses in which the tender passion is treated
somewhat realistically:--
Love 's like a mutton chop,
Soon it grows cold;
All its attractions hop
Ere it grows old.
Love 's like the cholic sure,
Both painful to endure;
Brandy 's for both a cure,
So I've been told.
When for some fair the swain
Burns with desire,
In Hymen's fatal chain
Eager to try her,
He weds as soon as he can,
And jumps--unhappy man--
Out of the frying pan
Into the fire.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
As to the humorist's pencil, even throughout these early days, it must
have been an unfailing source of delight, not only to the owner but to
the companions of his form. 'Draw us some pictures,' the boys would
say; and straightway down popped a caricature of a master on slate or
exercise paper. Then school books were brought into requisition, and
the fly-leaves were adorned with whimsical travesties of the subjects
of their contents. Abbé Barthélemy's 'Travels of Anacharsis the
Younger' suggested the figure of a wandering minstrel, with battered
hat and dislocated flageolet, piping his way through the world in the
dejected fashion in which those forlorn pilgrims might have presented
themselves to the charitable dwellers in Charterhouse Square; while
Anacharsis, Junior, habited in classic guise, was sent (pictorially)
tramping the high road from Scythia to Athens, with stick and bundle
over his back, a wallet at his side, sporting a family umbrella of the
defunct 'gingham' species as a staff, and furnished with lace-up
hob-nailed boots of the shape, size, and weight popularly approved by
navvies.
[Illustration: 'A Gingham']
Then Ainsworth's Latin Dictionary was turned into a sketch book, and
supplemented with studies of head-masters, early conceptions of Roman
warriors, primitive Carthusians indulging disrespectful gestures,
known as 'sights,' at the rears of respectable governors, and boys of
the neighbouring 'blue coat' foundation, their costume completed with
the addition of a fool's or dunce's long-eared cap.
Fantastic designs, even when marked by the early graphic talent which
Thackeray's rudest scribblings display, are apt to entail unpleasant
consequences when discovered in school-books, and greater attractions
were held out by works of fiction.
[Illustration: In a state of suspense]
Pages of knight-errantry were the things for inspiration: Quixote,
Orlando Furioso, Valentine and Orson, the Seven Champions, Cyrus the
Grand (and interminable), mystic and chivalrous legends, quite
forgotten in our generation, but which, in Thackeray's boyhood, were
considered fascinating reading;--quaint romances, Italian, Spanish,
and Persian tales, familiar enough in those days, and oft referred to,
with accents of tender regret, in the reminiscences of the great
novelist. What charms did the 'Arabian Nights' hold out for his
kindling imagination,--how frequently were its heroes and its episodes
brought in to supply some apt allusion in his later writings! It
seems that Thackeray's pencil never tired of his favourite stories in
the 'Thousand and One Nights,' precious to him for preserving ever
green the impressions of boyhood. How numerous his unpublished designs
from these tales, those who treasure his numberless and diversified
sketches can alone tell. We see the thrilling episode of 'Ali Baba'
perched among the branches, while the robbers bear their spoil to the
mysterious cave, repeated with unvarying interest, and each time with
some fresh point of humour to give value to the slight tracings.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Fancy sketch]
[Illustration: A worthy Cit]
[Illustration: A Grey Friar]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'Make us some faces,' his school-companions would cry. 'Whom will you
have? name your friends,' says the young artist. Perhaps one young
rogue, with a schoolboy's taste for personalities, will cry, 'Old
Buggins;' and the junior Buggins blushes and fidgets as the ideal
presentment of his progenitor is rapidly dashed off and held up to the
appreciation of a circle of rapturous critics. 'Now,' says the wounded
youngster, glad to retaliate, 'you remember old Figgins' pater when he
brought Old Figs back and forgot to tip--draw him!' and a faithful
portraiture of that economic civic ornament is produced from
recollection.
[Illustration: Blueskin]
The gallery of family portraits is doubtless successfully exhausted,
and each of the boys who love books, calls for a different favourite
of fiction, or the designer exercises his budding fancy in summoning
monks, Turks, ogres, bandits, highwaymen, and other heroes,
traditional or imaginary, from that wonderful well of his, which, in
after years, was to pour out so frankly from its rich reservoirs for
the recreation, and improvement too, of an audience more numerous, but
perhaps less enthusiastic, than that which surrounded him at
Greyfriars.
[Illustration: Virtue triumphant]
[Illustration: Early Recreations--Marbles]
[Illustration]
Holidays came, and with them the chance of visiting the theatres.
Think of the plays in fashion between 1820 and '30; what juvenile
rejoicings over the moral drama, over the wicked earl unmasked in the
last Act, the persecuted maiden triumphant, and virtue's defenders
rewarded. Recall the pieces in vogue in those early days, to which the
novelist refers with constant pleasure; how does he write of nautical
melodramas, of 'Black Ey'd Seusan,' and such simply constructed
pieces as he has parodied in the pages of 'Punch:' such as Theodore
Hook is described hitting off on the piano after dinner. Think of
Sadler's Wells, and the real water, turned on from the New River
adjacent. Remember Astley's, and its gallant stud of horses. How faded
are all these glories in our time, yet they were gorgeous subjects for
young Thackeray's hand to work out; and we can well conceive eager
little Cistercians, in miniature black gowns and breeches, revelling
over the splendid pictures, perhaps made more glorious with the colour
box. How many of these scraps have been treasured to this day, and are
now gone with the holders, heaven knows where?
[Illustration]
Then there was 'Shakespeare,' always a favourite with 'Titmarsh.'
Think of the obsolete, conventional trappings in which the characters
of the great playwright were then condemned to strut about to the
perfect satisfaction of the audience, before theatrical 'costume'
became a fine art! And then there were Braham, and Incledon, and the
jovial rollicking tuneful 'Beggar's Opera.' Behold the swaggering
Macheath, reckless in good fortune, and consistently light-hearted up
to his premature exit.
[Illustration: The Captain]
'_Since laws were made for ev'ry degree,
To curb vice in others, as well as me,
I wonder we han't better company
Upon_ Tyburn _tree!_
_But gold from law can take out the sting:
And if rich men like us were to swing,
'Twould thin the land, such numbers to string
Upon_ Tyburn _tree!_'
* * * * *
'_The charge is prepar'd, the Lawyers are met;
The Judges all rang'd (a terrible show!)
I go undismay'd--for death is a debt,
A debt on demand,--so take what I owe._
_Then, farewell, my love--dear charmers, adieu;
Contented I die--'tis the better for you;
Here ends all dispute the rest of our lives,
For this way at once I please all my wives._'
[Illustration]
In his 'English Humorists of the Eighteenth Century,' our author does
not forget to pay his honest tribute to Gay, some of whose verses we
have just quoted.
[Illustration]
'_At the tree I shall suffer with pleasure,
At the tree I shall suffer with pleasure,
Let me go where I will,
In all kinds of ill,
I shall find no such Furies as these are._'
Thackeray's predilections for the stage survived the first flush of
enthusiasm, and, like most of his pleasures, flourished vigorously
almost throughout his career.
It may be fresh in the recollections of most of his admirers how in
1848 he describes, in his great work, _Vanity Fair_, a visit to Drury
Lane Theatre--the vivid colouring of which picture outshines his
entire gallery of theatrical sketches.
The stout figure and slightly Mosaic cast of countenance of Braham
will be recognised opposite, gorgeous in stage trappings, as he
appeared in the opera of the 'Lion of Judah;' Thackeray also
dedicated to him another portrait, with a copy of mock laudatory
verses, in the 'National Standard,' to which engaging production some
allusion will be found under the notice of the author's earlier
contributions to periodical literature.
[Illustration: Mr. Braham]
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Speculation]
[Illustration: Quixote]
[Illustration: A formidable foe]
[Illustration: A Roman sentry]
[Illustration: A Spanish Don]
[Illustration: Rouge et Noir]
CHAPTER II.
Early Favourites -- The Castle of Otranto -- Rollin's Ancient
History.
The references made by Thackeray to the romances which thrilled the
sympathies of novel-readers in his youth are spread throughout his
writings. In the 'Roundabout Paper' devoted to reminiscences of
fictions which delighted his schooldays, he whimsically deplores that
Time, among other insatiable propensities, should devour the glories
of novels, and especially of those which have befriended his youth;
that no friendly hand should take the volumes down from their long
rest on the library shelves; that the profits of the forlorn novelists
should dwindle infinitesimally as the popularity of their bantlings
fades, until limbo finally takes them into indefinite keeping.
[Illustration]
In another paper, 'De Juventate,' he makes an earlier record of his
partiality for the imaginary companions of his boyhood. After alluding
to the games of his time, which he finds little changed, Mr.
Roundabout reverts to his favourite old novels, and challenges the
present day to rival their attractions, as far as his boyish
imagination was concerned. 'O "Scottish Chiefs," didn't we weep over
you? O "Mysteries of Udolpho," didn't I and Briggs minor draw pictures
out of you, as I have said?'
On the title-page of one of his old class-books, 'The Eton Latin
Grammar,' we find fanciful scribblings, in the manner of Skelt's once
famous theatrical characters, of schoolboy versions of Sir William
Wallace triumphing over the fallen Sir Aymer de Valence, while
Thaddeus of Warsaw, attired in a square Polish cap, laced jacket,
tights, and Hessian boots, his belt stuck round with pistols, is
gallantly flourishing a curly sabre.
Sketches of this picturesque nature seem to have held a certain charm
over the novelist's fancy through life; the impressions of his boyhood
are jotted down in all sorts of melodramatic fragments.
Similar reminiscences, applying to different stages of our writer's
career, and forming portions of the illustrations to 'Thackerayana,'
will be recognised throughout this work.
We endeavour to trace sufficient of the thread of the once familiar
story of 'The Castle of Otranto' (published in 1782, the fourth
edition), enlivened with highly droll marginal pencillings, to assist
our readers in a ready appreciation of the point and character of the
little designs, as it is more than probable that, by this time, the
interest and incidents of the original fiction are somewhat obscured
in the memories of our readers. We follow the words of the author as
closely as possible.
'Manfred, Prince of Otranto, had one son and one daughter. The latter,
a most beautiful virgin, aged eighteen, was called Matilda. Conrad,
the son, was only fifteen, and of a sickly constitution; he was the
hope of his father, who had contracted a marriage for him with the
Marquis of Vicenza's daughter, Isabella. The bride elect had been
delivered by the guardians into Manfred's hands, that the marriage
might take place as soon as Conrad's infirm health would permit it.
The impatience of the prince for the completion of this ceremonial was
attributed to his dread of seeing an ancient prophecy accomplished,
which pronounced--"that the Castle and Lordship of Otranto should pass
from the present family, whenever the real owner should be grown too
large to inhabit it."
'Young Conrad's birthday was fixed for the marriage; the company were
assembled in the chapel of the castle, everything ready,--but the
bridegroom was missing! The prince, in alarm, went in search of his
son. The first object that struck Manfred's eyes was a group of his
servants endeavouring to raise something that appeared to him a
mountain of sable plumes. "What are ye doing?" he cried, wrathfully;
"where is my son?" A volley of voices replied, "Oh! my lord! the
prince! the helmet! the helmet!" Shocked with these lamentable sounds,
and dreading he knew not what, he advanced hastily,--but what a sight
for a father's eyes! He beheld his child dashed to pieces, and almost
buried under an enormous helmet, a hundred times larger than any
casque ever made for human being, and shaded with a proportionable
quantity of black feathers.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'The consternation produced by this murderous apparition did not
diminish. Isabella was, however, relieved at her escape from an
ill-assorted union. Manfred continued to gaze at the terrible casque.
No one could explain its presence. In the midst of their senseless
guesses, a young peasant, whom rumour had drawn thither from a
neighbouring village, observed that the miraculous helmet was like
that on the figure in black marble, in the church of St. Nicholas, of
Alonzo the Good (the original Prince of Otranto, who died without
leaving an ascertained heir, and whose steward, Manfred's grandfather,
had illegally contrived to obtain possession of the castle, estates,
and title). "Villain! what sayest thou?" cried Manfred, starting from
his trance in a tempest of rage, and seizing the young man by the
collar. "How darest thou utter such treason? Thy life shall pay for
it!" The peasant was secured, and confined, as a necromancer, under
the gigantic helmet, there to be starved to death. Manfred retired to
his chamber to meditate in solitude over the blow which had descended
on his house. His gentle daughter, Matilda, heard his disordered
footsteps. She was just going to beg admittance, when Manfred suddenly
opened the door; and as it was now twilight, concurring with the
disorder of his mind, he did not distinguish the person, but asked
angrily who it was. Matilda replied, trembling, "My dearest father, it
is I, your daughter." Manfred, stepping back hastily, cried, "Begone,
I do not want a daughter;" and flinging back abruptly, clapped the
door against the terrified Matilda. His dejected daughter returned to
her mother, the pious Hippolita, who was being comforted by Isabella.
A servant, on the part of Manfred, informed the latter that Manfred
demanded to speak with her. "With me!" cried Isabella. "Go," said
Hippolita, "console him, and tell him that I will smother my own
anguish rather than add to his."
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'As it was now evening, the servant, who conducted Isabella, bore a
torch before her. When they came to Manfred, who was walking
impatiently about the gallery, he started, and said hastily, "Take
away that light, and begone." Then, shutting the door impetuously, he
flung himself upon a bench against the wall, and bade Isabella sit by
him. She obeyed trembling. The iniquitous Manfred then proposed, that
as his son was dead, Isabella should espouse him instead, and he would
divorce the virtuous Hippolita. Manfred, on her refusal, resorted to
violence, when the plumes of the fatal helmet suddenly waved to and
fro tempestuously in the moonlight. Manfred, disregarding the portent,
cried--"Heaven nor hell shall impede my designs," and advanced to
seize the princess. At that instant the portrait of his grandfather,
which hung over the bench where they had been sitting, uttered a deep
sigh, and heaved its breast. Manfred was distracted between his
pursuit of Isabella and the aspect of the picture, which quitted its
panel and stepped on the floor with a grave and melancholy air. The
vision sighed and made a sign to Manfred to follow him. "Lead on!"
cried Manfred; "I will follow thee to the gulph of perdition." The
spectre marched sedately, but dejected, to the end of the gallery.
Manfred followed, full of anxiety and horror, but resolved. The
spectre retired. Isabella had fled to a subterranean passage leading
from the Castle to the Sanctuary of St. Nicholas. In this vault she
encountered the young peasant who had provoked the animosity of
Manfred. He lifted up a secret trap-door, and Isabella made her
escape; but Manfred and his followers prevented the flight of the
daring stranger. The prince, who expected to secure Isabella, was
considerably startled to discover this youth in her stead. The weight
of the helmet had broken the pavement above, and he had thus alighted
in time to assist Isabella, whose disappearance he denied. A noise of
voices startled Manfred, who was alarmed by fresh indications of
hostile evidences. Jacques and Diego, two of his retainers, detailed
the fresh cause of alarm. It was thus: they had heard a noise--they
opened a door and ran back, their hair standing on end with terror.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'"It is a giant, I believe," said Diego; "he is all clad in armour,
for I saw his foot and part of his leg, and they are as large as the
helmet below in the court. We heard a violent motion, and the rattling
of armour, as if the giant was rising. Before we could get to the end
of the gallery we heard the door of the great chamber clap behind us;
but for Heaven's sake, good my lord, send for the chaplain and have
the place exorcised, for it is certainly haunted." The attendants
searched for Isabella in vain. The next morning father Jerome arrived,
announcing that she had taken refuge at the altar of St. Nicholas. He
came to inform Hippolita of the perfidy of her husband. Manfred
prevented him, saying, "I do not use to let my wife be acquainted with
the affairs of my state; they are not within a woman's province." "My
Lord," said the holy man, "I am no intruder into the secrets of
families. My office is to promote peace and teach mankind to curb
their headstrong passions. I forgive your highness's uncharitable
apostrophe; I know my duty, and am the minister of a mightier Prince
than Manfred. Hearken to Him who speaks through my organs." The good
father--to divert Manfred by a subterfuge from his unhallowed
designs--suggested that there might, perhaps, be an attachment
between the peasant and his recluse. Manfred was so enraged that he
ordered the youth who defied him to be executed forthwith. The removal
of the peasant's doublet disclosed the mark of a bloody arrow.
"Gracious Heaven!" cried the priest, starting, "what do I see? it is
my child! my Theodore!" Manfred was deaf to the prayers of the father
and friar, and ordered the tragedy to proceed. "A saint's bastard may
be no saint himself," said the prince sternly. The friar exclaimed,
"His blood is noble; he is my lawful son, and I am the Count of
Falconara!" At this critical juncture the tramp of horses was heard,
the sable plumes of the enchanted helmet were again agitated, and a
brazen trumpet was sounded without. "Father," said Manfred, "do you go
to the wicket and demand who is at the gate." "Do you grant me the
life of Theodore?" replied the friar. "I do," said the prince. The new
arrival was a herald from the Knight of the Gigantic Sabre, who
requested to speak with the Usurper of Otranto.
[Illustration]
'Manfred was enraged at this message; he ordered Jerome to be thrust
out, and to reconduct Isabella to the castle, and commanded Theodore
to be confined in the black tower. He then directed the herald to be
admitted to his presence.
'"Well! thou insolent!" said the prince, "what wouldst thou with me?"
"I come," replied he, "to thee, Manfred, usurper of the principality
of Otranto, from the renowned and invincible knight, the Knight of the
Gigantic Sabre: in the name of his Lord, Frederic, Marquis of Vicenza,
he demands the Lady Isabella, daughter of that prince whom thou hast
basely and treacherously got into thy power, by bribing her false
guardians during his absence; he requires thee to resign the
principality of Otranto, which thou hast usurped from the said Lord
Frederic, the nearest of blood to the last rightful Lord Alonzo the
Good. If thou dost not instantly comply with these just demands, he
defies thee to single combat to the last extremity." And so saying,
the herald cast down his warder. Manfred knew how well founded this
claim was; indeed, his object in seeking an alliance with Isabella had
been to unite the claimants in one interest.
'The herald was despatched to bid the champions welcome, and the
prince ordered the gates to be flung open for the reception of the
stranger knight and his retinue. In a few minutes the cavalcade
arrived. First came two harbingers with wands. Next a herald, followed
by two pages and two trumpets. Then a hundred foot-guards. These were
attended by as many horse. After them fifty foot-men clothed in
scarlet and black, the colours of the knight. Then a led horse. Two
heralds on each side of a gentleman on horseback bearing a banner with
the arms of Vicenza and Otranto quarterly--a circumstance that much
offended Manfred, but he stifled his resentment. Two more pages. The
knight's confessor telling his beads. Fifty more foot-men clad as
before. Two knights habited in complete armour, their beavers down,
comrades to the principal knight. The squires of the two knights,
carrying their shields and devices. The knight's own squire. A hundred
gentlemen bearing an enormous sword, and seeming to faint under the
weight of it. The knight himself on a chestnut steed, in complete
armour, his lance in the rest, his face entirely concealed by his
vizor, which was surmounted by a large plume of scarlet and black
feathers. Fifty foot-guards, with drums and trumpets, closed the
procession. Manfred invited the train to enter the great hall of his
castle. He proposed to the stranger to disarm, but the knight shook
his head in token of refusal. "Rest here," said Manfred; "I will but
give orders for the accommodation of your train, and return to you."
The three knights bowed as accepting his courtesy. Manfred directed
the stranger's retinue to be conducted to an adjacent hospital,
founded by the Princess Hippolita for the reception of pilgrims. As
they made the circuit of the court, the gigantic sword burst from the
supporters, and falling to the ground opposite the helmet, remained
immovable.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'Manfred, almost hardened to supernatural appearances, surmounted the
shock of this new prodigy; and returning to the hall, where by this
time the feast was ready, he invited his silent guests to take their
places. Manfred, however ill at ease was his heart, endeavoured to
inspire the company with mirth. He put several questions to them, but
was answered only by signs. They raised their vizors but sufficiently
to feed themselves, and that sparingly. During the parley Father
Jerome hurried in to report the disappearance of Isabella. The knights
and their retinue dispersed to search the neighbourhood, and Manfred,
with his vassals, quitted the castle to confuse their movements.
Theodore was still confined in the black tower, but his guards were
gone. The gentle Matilda came to his assistance; she carried him to
her father's armoury, and having equipped him with a complete suit,
conducted him to the postern-gate. "Avoid the town," said the
princess, "but hie thee to the opposite quarter; yonder is a chain of
rocks, hollowed into a labyrinth of caverns that lead to the
sea-coast. Go! Heaven be thy guide! and sometimes, in thy prayers,
remember Matilda!" Theodore flung himself at her feet, and seizing her
lily hand, which with struggles she suffered him to kiss, he vowed on
the earliest opportunity to get himself knighted, and fervently
intreated her permission to swear himself eternally her champion. He
then sighed and retired, but with eyes fixed on the gate, until
Matilda, closing it, put an end to an interview, in which the hearts
of both had drunk so deeply of a passion which both now tasted for the
first time.'
[Illustration]
We must now crowd the sequel of this remarkable story into the
smallest possible space. In the caverns Theodore recovered the
distracted Isabella; but a knight arrived at the moment of his happy
discovery, and mistrusting her deliverer, while Theodore deceived
himself as to the intentions of the stranger, a desperate combat
ensued, and the younger champion gained the victory. The stranger
knight explained his mistake, and revealed himself as the missing
Marquis of Vicenza, father to Isabella, and nearest heir to Alonzo. He
anticipated his wounds were fatal, but he recovered at the castle.
Manfred artfully pursued his unholy designs for a union with Isabella.
He gave a great feast, with this object, but Theodore withdrew from
the revelry to pray with Matilda at the tomb of Alonzo. Manfred
followed him to the chapel, believing his companion was Isabella, and
struck his dagger through the heart of his daughter. He was
overwhelmed with remorse for his error, on discovering that he had
murdered his child. Theodore revealed to Frederic that he was the
real and rightful successor to Alonzo. This declaration was confirmed
by the apparition of Alonzo. Thunder and a clank of more than mortal
armour was heard. The walls of the castle behind Manfred were thrown
down with a mighty force, and the form of Alonzo, dilated to an
immense magnitude, appeared in the centre of the ruins. 'Behold in
Theodore the true heir of Alonzo!' said the vision, and, ascending
solemnly towards heaven, the clouds parted asunder, and the form of
St. Nicholas received Alonzo's shade. Manfred confessed, in his
terror, that Alonzo had been poisoned by his grandfather, and a
fictitious will had accomplished his treacherous end. Jerome further
revealed that Alonzo had secretly espoused Victoria, a Sicilian
virgin. After the good knight's decease a daughter was born. Her hand
had been bestowed on him, the disguised Count of Falconara. Theodore
was the fruit of their marriage, thus establishing his direct right to
the principality. Manfred and his virtuous wife, Hippolita, retired to
neighbouring convents. Frederic offered his daughter to the new
prince, but 'it was not until after frequent discourses with Isabella
of dear Matilda that he was persuaded he could know no happiness but
in the society of one with whom he could for ever indulge the
melancholy that had taken possession of his soul,' with which
cheerful prospect the 'Castle of Otranto' is brought to an appropriate
conclusion.
[Illustration]
On the fly-leaf at the end of this worthy novel follows a sketch
suggestive of the out-of-door sports alluded to earlier.
* * * * *
An instance of the felicitous parodies to which the works of grave
historians are liable at the hands of a budding satirist is supplied
by 'Rollin's Ancient History,' one of the books of which we feel bound
to give more than a passing notice; we therefore select the more
tempting passages of the eight volumes forming the particular edition
in question, to which a fresh interest is contributed by certain
slight but pertinent pencillings probably referable to a somewhat
later period.
SKETCHES ILLUSTRATIVE OF 'ROLLIN'S ANCIENT HISTORY.'
ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE EGYPTIANS, ETC. ETC.
'... In the early morning and at daybreak, when their minds were
clearest and their thoughts were most pure, the Egyptians would read
the letters they had received, the better to obtain a just and
truthful impression of the business on which they had to
decide.'--Vol. I. p. 60.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'... In addition to the adoration practised by the Egyptians of
Osiris, Iris, and the higher divinities, they worshipped a large
number of animals, paying an especial respect to the cat.'--Vol. I. p.
73.
[Illustration: The Historic Muse supported by the veracious
historians.
_Frontispiece to Vol. I._
In this sketch Monsieur Rollin is archly classed among the ranks of
the writers of fiction--a position to which he is entitled from the
remarkable nature of the facts he gravely puts on record.]
'Until the reign of Psammeticus the Egyptians were believed to be the
most ancient people on the earth. Wishing to assure themselves of this
antiquity, they employed a most remarkable test, if the statement is
worthy of credit. Two children, just born of poor parents, were shut
up in two separate cabins in the country, and a shepherd was directed
to feed them on goat's milk. (Others state that they were nourished by
nurses whose tongues had been cut out.) No one was permitted to enter
the cabins, and no word was ever allowed to be pronounced in their
presence. One day, when these children arrived at the age of two
years, the shepherd entered to bring them their usual food, when each
of them, from their different divisions, extending their hands to the
keeper, cried, "Beccos, beccos." This word, it was discovered, was
employed by the Phrygians to signify bread; and since that period this
nation has enjoyed, above all other peoples, the honour of the
earliest antiquity.'--Vol. I. p. 162.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Triumphant Statue of Scipio Africanus.--End of Vol. I.]
HISTORY OF THE CARTHAGINIANS, ETC. ETC.
'... Virgil has greatly altered many facts in his "History of the
Carthaginians," by the supposition that his hero, Æneas, was a
contemporary of Dido, although there is an interval of about three
centuries between the two personages; Carthage having been built
nearly three hundred years before the Fall of Troy.'--Vol. I. p. 241.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'... By the order of Hannibal a road was excavated through the bed of
the rocks, and this labour was carried on with astonishing vigour and
perseverance. To open and enlarge this pathway they felled all the
trees in the adjoining parts, and as soon as the timber was cut down
the soldiers arranged the trunks on all sides of the rocks, and the
wood was then set on fire. Fortunately, there being a high wind, an
ardent flame was quickly kindled, until the rock glowed with heat as
fiery as the furnace burning round it. Hannibal--if we may credit
Titus Livius (for Polybius[1] does not mention the circumstance)--then
caused a great quantity of vinegar to be poured upon the heated stone,
which ran into the fissures of the rocks (already cracked by the heat
of the fire), and caused them to soften and calcine to powder. By this
contrivance he prepared a road through the heart of the mountains,
giving easy passage to his troops, their baggage, and even their
elephants.'--Vol. I. p. 406.
[Illustration: Battle of Cannes.--Vol. I. p. 439.]
HISTORY OF THE LYDIANS.
'Crœsus, wishing to assure himself of the veracity of the different
oracles, sent deputies to consult the most celebrated soothsayers both
in Africa and in Greece, with orders to inform themselves how
Crœsus was engaged at a certain hour on a day that was pointed out
to them.
'His instructions were exactly carried out. The oracle of Delphi
returned the only correct reply. It was given in verses of the
hexameter metre, and was in substance: "I know the number of grains of
sand in the sea, and the measure of the vast deep. I understand the
dumb, and those who have not learned to speak. My senses are saluted
with the savoury odour of a turtle stewed with the flesh of lambs in a
brazier, which has copper on all sides, above and below!"
[Illustration]
'In fact the king, desiring to select some employment which it would
be impossible to divine, had occupied himself at the hour appointed
for the revelation in preparing a turtle and a lamb in a copper
stewpan, which had also a lid of copper.'--Vol. II. p. 129.
HISTORY OF CYRUS.
'... When the people of Ionia and Æolia learnt that Cyrus had mastered
the Lydians, they despatched ambassadors to him at Sardis, proposing
to be received into his empire, under the same conditions as he had
accorded to the Lydians. Cyrus, who before his victories had vainly
solicited them to unite in his cause, and who now found himself in a
position to constrain them by force, gave as his only answer the
apologue of a fisherman, who, having tried to lure the fish with the
notes of his flute, without any success, had recourse to his net as
the shortest method of securing them.'--Vol. II. p. 232.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'Herodotus, and after him Justinian, recounts that Astyages, King of
the Medes, on the impressions of an alarming dream, which announced
that a child his daughter was to bear would dethrone him, gave
Mandane, his daughter, in marriage to a Persian of obscure birth and
condition, named Cambyses. A son being born of this marriage, the king
charged Harpagus, one of his principal officers, to put the child to
death. Harpagus gave him to one of his shepherds to be exposed in a
forest. However, the infant, being miraculously preserved, and
afterwards nourished in secret by the herd's wife, was at last
recognised by his royal grandfather, who contented himself by his
removal to the centre of Persia, and vented all his fury on the
unhappy officer, whose own son he caused to be served up, to be eaten
by him at a feast. Some years later the young Cyrus was informed by
Harpagus of the circumstances of his birth and position; animated by
his counsels and remonstrances, he raised an army in Persia, marched
against Astyages, and challenged him to battle. The sovereignty of the
empire thus passed from the hands of the Medes to the Persians.'--Vol.
II. p. 315.
ANCIENT HISTORY OF GREECE.
'The wealthy and luxurious members of the Lacedemonians were extremely
irritated against Lycurgus on account of his decree introducing public
repasts as the means best suited to enforce temperance.
[Illustration]
'It was on this occasion that a young man, named Alcandres, put out
one of Lycurgus's eyes with his staff, during a popular tumult. The
people, indignant at so great an outrage, placed the youth in his
hands. Lycurgus permitted himself a most honourable vengeance,
converting him, by his kindness, and the generosity of his treatment,
from violence and rebellion to moderation and wisdom.'--Vol. II. p.
526.
ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE PERSIANS AND THE GREEKS.
'The Greek historians gave to Artaxerxes the surname of "Longhand,"
because, according to Strabo, his hands were so long that, when he
stood erect, he was able to touch his knees; according to Plutarch,
because his right hand was longer than the left'--Vol. III. p. 347.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'The stories related of the voracity of the Athletes are almost
incredible. The appetite of Milo was barely appeased with twenty
"mines" (or pounds) of meat, as much bread, and three "conges"
(fifteen pints) of wine daily. Athenes relates that Milo, after
traversing the entire length of the state--bearing on his shoulders an
ox of four years' growth--felled the beast with one blow of his fist,
and entirely devoured it in one day.
'I willingly admit other exploits attributed to Milo, but is it in the
least degree probable that a single man could eat an entire ox in one
day?'--Vol. III. p. 516.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'... While Darius was absent, making war in Egypt and Arabia, the
Medes revolted against him; but they were overpowered and forced into
submission. To chastise this rebellion, their yoke, which had until
that date been very easy to bear, was made more burdensome. This fate
has never been spared to those subjects who, having revolted, are
again compelled to submit to the power they wished to depose.'--Vol.
III. p. 613.
ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE PERSIANS AND THE GREEKS.
_Death of Alcibiades._
[Illustration: Frontispiece to Vol. IV.]
'... Alcibiades was living at that time in a small town of Phrygia,
with Timandra, his mistress (it is pretended that Lais, the celebrated
courtesan--known as "the Corinthian"--was a daughter of this
Timandra). The ruffians who were engaged to assassinate him had not
the courage to enter his house; they contented themselves by
surrounding it and setting it on fire. Alcibiades, sword in hand,
having passed through the flames, these barbarians did not dare to
await a hand-to-hand combat with him, but sought safety in flight;
but, in their retreat, they overcame him with showers of darts and
arrows. Alcibiades fell down dead in the place. Timandra secured the
remains, and draped the body with her finest vestments; she gave him
the most magnificent funeral the state of her fortune would
permit.'--Vol. IV. p. 110.
[Illustration]
RETREAT OF THE GREEKS FROM BABYLON.
'... The troops put themselves in marching order; the battalions
forming one large square, the baggage being in the centre. Two of the
oldest colonels commanded the right and left wings.'--Vol. IV. p. 190.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'Agesilaus was in Bœotia, ready to give battle, when he heard the
distressing news of the destruction of the Lacedemonian fleet by
Conon, near Cnidus. Fearing the rumour of this defeat would discourage
and intimidate his troops, who were then preparing for battle, he
reported throughout the army that the Lacedemonians had gained a
considerable naval victory; he also appeared in public, wearing his
castor crowned with flowers, and offered sacrifices for the good
news.'--Vol. IV. p. 287.
'... Artaxerxes resorted to treason unworthy of a prince to rid
himself of Datames, his former favour and friendship for whom were
changed into implacable hatred.
He employed assassins to destroy him, but Datames had the good fortune
to escape their ambuscades.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'At last Mithridates, influenced by the splendid rewards promised by
the king if he succeeded in destroying so redoubtable an enemy,
insinuated himself into his friendship; and having afforded Datames
sufficient evidences of fidelity to gain his confidence, he took
advantage of a favourable moment when he happened to be alone, and
pierced him with his sword before he was in a condition to defend
himself.'--Vol. IV. p. 345.
'... Socrates took the poisoned cup from the valet without changing
colour, or exhibiting emotion. "What say you of this drink?" he asked;
"is it permitted to take more than one draught?" They replied that it
was but for one libation. "At least," continued he, "it is allowable
to supplicate the gods to render easy my departure beneath the earth,
and my last journey happy. I ask this of them with my whole heart."
Having spoken these words, he remained silent for some time, and then
drank the entire contents of the cup, with marvellous tranquillity and
irresistible gentleness.
* * * * *
'"Cito," said he--and these were his last words--"we owe a cock to
Esculapius; acquit yourself of this vow for me, and do not
forget!"'--Vol. IV. p. 439.
[Illustration]
'... The Greek dances prescribed rules for those movements most proper
to render the figure free and the carriage unconstrained; to form a
well-proportioned frame, and to give the entire person a graceful,
noble, and easy air; in a word, to obtain that politeness of exterior,
if the expression is admissible, which always impresses us in favour
of those who have had the advantage of early training.'--Vol. IV. p.
538.
'... After these observations on the government of the principal
peoples of Greece, both in peace and in war, and on their various
characteristics, it now remains for me to speak of their religion.'
[Illustration: End of Vol. IV.]
HISTORY OF THE SUCCESSES OF ALEXANDER.
_Battle of Lamia._
[Illustration]
'... The cavalry amounted to 3,500 horse, of which 2,000 were from
Thessaly; this constituted the chief force of the army, and their only
hope of success. In fact, battle being given, it was this cavalry
which obtained the victory, under the leadership of Menon. Lennatus,
covered with mortal wounds, fell on the field of battle, and was borne
to the camp by his followers.'--Vol. VII. p. 55.
_Battle of Cappadocia._
'Neoptolemus and Eumenes (the generals in command of the hostile
forces) cherished a personal hatred of each other. They came to a
hand-to-hand encounter, and their horses falling into collision, they
seized each other round the body, and their chargers escaping from
under them they fell to the ground together. Like enraged athletes,
they fought in that position for a long time, with a species of
maddened fury, until Neoptolemus received a mortal blow and expired.
Eumenes then remounted his horse and continued the battle.'--Vol. VII.
p. 89.
[Illustration]
'The reign of Seleucus was described by the Arabs as the era of the
"Double-horned," sculptors generally representing him decorated thus,
wearing the horns of a bull on his head; this prince being so powerful
that he could arrest the course of a bull by simply seizing it by the
horns.'--Vol. VII. p. 189.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'... Democles, surnamed the Beautiful, in order to escape the violence
of Demetrius, threw himself, while still a youth, into a vessel of
boiling water, which was being prepared to heat a bath, and was
scalded to death; preferring to sacrifice his life rather than lose
his honour.'--Vol. VII. p. 374.
THE ENGAGEMENT OF PYRRHUS WITH THE CONSUL ÆVINUS.
'... Pyrrhus exerted himself without any precaution for his own
security. He overthrew all that opposed him; never losing sight of
the duties of a general, he preserved perfect coolness, giving orders
as if he were not exposed to peril; hurrying from post to post to
re-establish the troops who wavered, and supporting those most
assailed.'--Vol. VII. p. 404.
[Illustration]
DEATH OF PYRRHUS AT ARGOS, ETC. ETC.
[Illustration]
'... Placing confidence in the swiftness of his charger, Pyrrhus threw
himself into the midst of his pursuers. He was fighting desperately
when one of the enemy approached him, and penetrated his javelin
through his armour. The wound was neither deep nor dangerous, and
Pyrrhus immediately attacked the man who had struck him, a mere common
soldier, son of a poor woman of Argos. Like the rest of the
townswomen, his mother was observing the conflict from the roof of a
house, and, seeing her son, who chanced to be beneath her, engaged
with Pyrrhus, she was seized with fright at the great danger to which
her child was exposed, and raising a heavy tile, with both hands, she
hurled it on Pyrrhus. It struck him on the head with its full force,
and his helmet being powerless to resist the blow, he became
unconscious instantly. The reins dropped from his hands, and he fell
from his horse without recognition. Soon after a soldier who knew
Pyrrhus observed his rank, and completed the work by cutting off the
king's head.'--Vol. VII. p. 460.
'... A few days after Ptolemy had refused the peace proposals of the
Gauls, the armies came to an engagement, in which the Macedonians were
completely defeated and cut to pieces. Ptolemy, covered with wounds,
was made prisoner, his head was cut off, and, mounted on the point of
a lance, was shown in derision to the soldiers of the enemy.'--Vol.
VII. p. 376.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'... The Colossus of Rhodes remained as it fell, without being
disturbed for 894 years, at the expiration of which time (in the year
672 of the Christian era) the Sixth Caliph, or Emperor of the
Saracens, having conquered Rhodes, he sold the remains of the Colossus
to a Hebrew merchant, who carried it off in 500 camel loads;
thus--reckoning eight quintals to one load--the bronze of this figure,
after the decay, by rust, of so many years, and after the probable
loss of some portion by pillage, still amounted to a weight of 720,000
pounds, or 7,200 quintals.'--Vol. VII. p. 650.
'Philip returned to the Peloponnesus shortly after his defeat. He
directed all his exertions to deceive and surprise the Messenians. His
stratagems being discovered, however, he raised the mask, and ravaged
the entire country.'--Vol. VIII. p. 121.
[Illustration]
'Philammon (the assassin who had been employed to murder Queen
Arsinoe) returned to Alexandria (from Cyrene) two or three days before
the tumult. The ladies of honour, who had been attached to the
unfortunate queen, had early information of his arrival, and they
determined to take advantage of the disorder then prevailing in the
city to avenge the death of their mistress. They accordingly broke
into the house where he had sought refuge, and overcame him with
showers of blows from stones and clubs.'--Vol. VIII. p. 215.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
'... Scopas, finding himself at the head of all the foreign troops--of
whom the principal portions were Aetolians like himself--believed that
as he held the command of such a formidable body of veterans, so
thoroughly steeled by warfare, he could easily usurp the crown during
the minority of the king.'--Vol. VIII. p. 327.
'... The arrival of Livius, who had commanded the fleet, and who was
now sent to Prusias (King of Bithynia), in the quality of an
ambassador, decided the resolutions of that monarch. He assisted the
king to discover on which side victory might be reasonably expected to
turn, and showed him how much safer it would be to trust to the
friendship of the Romans rather than rely on that of Antiochus.'--Vol.
VIII. p. 426.
[Illustration]
FUNERAL OBSEQUIES OF PHILOP[OE]MEN.
'... When the body had been burned, and the ashes were gathered
together and placed in an urn, the cortége set out to carry the
remains to Megalopolis. This ceremonial resembled a triumphal
celebration rather than a funeral procession, or at least a mixture of
the two.
[Illustration]
'The urn, borne by the youthful Polybius, was followed by the entire
cavalry, armed magnificently and superbly mounted. They followed the
procession without exhibiting signs of dejection for so great a loss,
or exultation for so great a victory.'--Vol. VIII. p. 537.
ATTEMPTED SACKING OF THE SANCTUARY.
[Illustration]
'... Heliodorus, with his guards, entered the temple, and he was
proceeding to force the treasures, when a horse, richly clad, suddenly
appeared, and threw himself on Heliodorus, inflicting several blows
with his hoofs. The rider had a terrible aspect, and his armour
appeared to be of gold. At the same moment two celestial-looking
youths were observed on each side of the violator of the sanctuary
dealing chastisement without cessation, and giving him severe lashes
from the whips they held in their hands.'--Vol. VIII. p. 632.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] The most improbable part of this narrative, observes the
historian, is, that Hannibal, in the very centre of the mountains,
should have been able to obtain sufficiently large quantities of
vinegar for the operations.
CHAPTER III.
Thackeray's last visit to the Charterhouse -- College days --
Pendennis at Cambridge -- Sketches of University worthies --
Sporting subjects -- Etchings at Cambridge -- Pencillings in old
authors -- Pictorial Puns -- 'The Snob,' a Literary and
Scientific Journal -- 'Timbuctoo,' a prize poem.
In Thackeray's schooldays the Charterhouse enjoyed considerable
reputation under the head-mastership of Dr. Russell, whose death
happened in the same year as that of his illustrious pupil. No one who
has read Thackeray's novels can fail to know the kind of life he led
here. He has continually described his experiences at this celebrated
school--with the venerable archway into Charterhouse Square, which
still preserves an interesting token of the old monkish character of
the neighbourhood. Only a fortnight before his death he was there
again, as was his custom, on the anniversary of the death of Thomas
Sutton, the munificent founder of the school. 'He was there,' says one
who has described the scene, 'in his usual back seat in the quaint old
chapel. He went thence to the oration in the Governor's room; and as
he walked up to the orator with his contribution, was received with
such hearty applause as only Carthusians can give to one who has
immortalised their school. At the banquet afterwards he sat at the
side of his old friend and artist-associate in "Punch," John Leech;
and in a humorous speech proposed, as a toast, the noble foundation
which he had adorned by his literary fame, and made popular in his
works.' 'Divine service,' says another describer of this scene, for
ever memorable as the last appearance of Thackeray in public life,
'took place at four o'clock, in the quaint old chapel; and the
appearance of the brethren in their black gowns, of the old stained
glass and carving in the chapel, of the tomb of Sutton, could hardly
fail to give a peculiar and interesting character to the service.
Prayers were said by the Rev. J. J. Halcombe, the reader of the
house. There was only the usual parochial chanting of the _Nunc
Dimittis_; the familiar Commemoration-day psalms, cxxii. and c., were
sung after the third collect and before the sermon; and before the
general thanksgiving the old prayer was offered up expressive of
thankfulness to God for the bounty of Thomas Sutton, and of hope that
all who enjoy it might make a right use of it. The sermon was preached
by the Rev. Henry Earle Tweed, late Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford,
who prefaced it with the "Bidding Prayer," in which he desired the
congregation to pray generally for all public schools and colleges,
and particularly for the welfare of the house "founded by Thomas
Sutton for the support of age and the education of youth."'
[Illustration: First Term]
[Illustration: Second Term]
[Illustration: 'O crikey, father, there's a jolly great
what's-a-name!']
From Charterhouse School Thackeray went to Trinity College, Cambridge,
about 1828, the year of his leaving the Charterhouse, and among his
fellow-students there had Mr. John Mitchell Kemble, the great
Anglo-Saxon scholar, and Mr. Tennyson. With the latter--then unknown
as a poet--he formed an acquaintance which he maintained to the last,
and no reader of the Poet Laureate had a more earnest admiration for
his productions than his old Cambridge associate, Thackeray. At
college, Thackeray kept seven or eight terms, but took no degree;
though he was studious, and his love of classical literature is
apparent in most of his writings, either in his occasional apt two
words from Horace, or in the quaint and humorous adoption of Latin
idioms in which, in his sportive moods, he sometimes indulged. A
recent writer tells us that his knowledge of the classics--of Horace
at least--was amply sufficient to procure him an honourable place in
the 'previous examination.'
[Illustration: A University Tradesman]
To the reader who would gain an insight into Thackeray's doings at
Cambridge, we say, 'Glance through the veracious pages in which he
records the University career of Mr. Arthur Pendennis; you will there
at least seize the spirit of his own college days, if perchance you do
not find the facts of the author's own residence circumstantially
stated. Take his studies, for example.'
Pen's circumstances, tastes, and disposition generally, presuming the
resemblance to be merely accidental, present a tolerably faithful
reflection of those of his biographer at this period.
[Illustration: UNIVERSITY CHARACTERS
A Mathematical Lecturer
A Classman
A Grinder
A Plodder
Horsemanship]
The entire narrative occupies but scant space; and the chronicler
premises that he shall not describe his hero's academical career very
minutely. He is reticent, for he candidly declares that this portion
of a man's life does not bear telling without certain reservations.
[Illustration: Vingt-et-un]
Riding, tandem-driving, and four-in-hands enjoyed in those days the
patronage more largely transferred by the present generation to
boating, cricket, billiards, &c. It was probably at the University
that Thackeray began to take an interest in equestrianism: he made
numberless pictures of horses; indeed, he never hesitated to draw them
in every attitude. There is a certain rude fitness and grotesque
vigour about the animals which he sketched at the period of life we
are describing; but his skill in this respect certainly advanced with
practice, and the horses he had occasion to introduce into his cuts
when his fun was at its height--such, for example, as the burlesque
illustrations which we find scattered about the inimitable pages of
Mr. Punch--were really very original and spirited; although perhaps
they are barely the steeds which would be selected by timid riders,
but are rather the tremendous creatures which occur to the
imagination.
[Illustration: 'Well on']
[Illustration: 'Ill off']
It is possible that Thackeray's bill to his livery stable keeper kept
pace with his other expenses; but his experience in this respect was
not fruitless. When he had occasion to mix with the world, and
especially while studying society abroad, it embittered his judgment
against the University to realise how little return, beyond that
indefinite and somewhat bumptious quality known as 'tone,' he had
really obtained in return for the expenses of a college career. The
youth of the Continent, with whom he had the fortune to associate for
some time, made him conscious, by their own accomplishments, of those
parts of a gentleman's education which are ignored at our
Universities, and which form, it must be confessed, the standard by
which men are chiefly measured beyond the college walls. His early
papers in 'Fraser,' and especially those supposed to be contributed by
the respectable Fitz-Boodle, drawing upon the experiences he had
gained while sojourning amidst the society of the minor German
principalities, speak the truth on these short-comings in a manner
both forcible and unflinching.
[Illustration: A few University Favourites]
[Illustration: 'Just a little playful']
Besides his fancy for etching plates of horses and men of ultra and
parodied fashion, for designing plates of the modern rake's progress
at the Universities, and punning cuts, we may assume that Thackeray
shared with his ideal Pendennis most of those tastes indulged by lucky
youths when life is opening, and reflection does not trouble them.
Like his hero, he enjoyed a fine amateur perception for rare editions,
and had a fancy for the glories of costly bindings: we are told that
the tall copies, the gilding, marbling, and blind-tooling put on his
book-shelves were marvellous to behold. The same just appreciation of
true art which, later on, directed Thackeray's criticisms of the
picture galleries, taught Pen to despise the tawdry and meretricious
pictures of horses and opera dancers which often captivate the
judgment of fledglings, and gifted him with a love for fine prints,
for Rembrandt etchings, line-engravings after Strange, and Wilkie's
before the letter; with which he hung his rooms, to the admiration of
those who were capable of understanding his good taste. His mind did
not despise the allurements of dress; and Pen was elaborately attired.
It was a repeated axiom of Thackeray's, that it was good for a youth
at one period to indulge in this vanity of fine apparel as a
preliminary stage to more developed ambitions of standing well with
the world.
[Illustration: 'Sport in earnest']
It will be recollected that eventually Pendennis was plucked; and a
feeling, in some degree morose, and unequivocally indignant, seems to
have taken possession of Thackeray's mind whenever he dwells on the
college careers of the creations of his fancy. In the 'Shabby Genteel
Story,' which he first gave to the world in the columns of 'Fraser'
(1840), he lashes the system for the defects of the individuals who
may have been perverted by its more injurious influences; nor does he
credit the Universities with conferring any solid advantages. He
enquires, somewhat vengefully, the amount of ruin that has been
inflicted by the temptations to which youths are exposed in such a
course of training as is understood in England by 'the education of a
gentleman.' The 'learning to fight for oneself,' he argues, implants
an early habit of selfishness. With 'a pretty knack of Latin
hexameters, and a decent smattering of Greek plays,' the neophyte
has learned, from his forced attendance at chapel, 'to consider the
religious service performed there as the vainest parade in the world.'
He has learned to forget the gentle affections of home, and, under
certain conditions, to despise his belongings. If naturally endowed
with an open hand, he has learned to compete with associates
infinitely wealthier than himself, to despise money on its own merits
perhaps, but to respect it as a means to the questionable advantage of
gaining admission to the company of those whose social positions may
chance to be a source of envy to weaker minds. In return for the two
thousand pounds or so which had been spent in acquiring 'the tone,' he
brings George Brandon--who is certainly as black a sheep as any
University can produce--abruptly away from his college, ruined in
heart and principle; boasting a small quantity of classics and
mathematics; with an utter contempt for his inferiors, an enmity
against his equals; a fulsome desire to be reckoned one of those above
him, and to copy the extravagances incident to high position; an easy,
confident address; sybarite habits, utter heartlessness, and tastes
which must be gratified without scruple as to the means: 'pretty
compensation,' writes the author, 'for all he had lost in gaining
them.'
[Illustration: Occasional Canters from 'Childe Harold's (first and
last) Pilgrimage']
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Taking in toe]
His pencil would seem to have been a recreation of Thackeray's
college days as well as of his later career. His first efforts in
etching on copper were probably produced about the period of which we
treat; the subjects of nearly all of these plates--none of which, we
believe, were ever published--were evidently suggested by incidents in
the career of an undergraduate.
The margins and fly-leaves of a copy of Ovid's 'Opera omnia,' one of
Black's editions of the Classics (1825), offer various whimsical
illustrations of certain portions of the poems; we incline to the
impression, however, that although some of these parodies may be
referred to Thackeray's college days, to others must be assigned a
considerably later date.
[Illustration: P. OVIDII NASONIS OPERA OMNIA.
P. OVIDII NASONIS]
'Remediorum Amoris,' 'Medicaminum Faciei,' et 'Halieutici Fragmenta.'
[Illustration: EPIGRAMMA NASONIS IN AMORES SUOS.]
Qui modo Nasonis fueramus quinque libelli,
Tres sumus: hoc illi prætulit auctor opus,
Ut iam nulla tibi nos sit legisse voluptas:
At levior demtis pœna duobus erit.
[Illustration: ARTIS AMATORIÆ. (Lib. II.)]
Ecce! rogant teneræ, sibidem præcepta, puellæ.
Vos eritis chartæ proxima cura meæ.
[Illustration: REMEDIA AMORIS.]
Hoc opus exegi: fessæ date serta carinæ
Contigimus portum, quo mihi cursus erat.
Postmodo reddetis sacro pia vota poëtæ,
Carmine sanati femina virque meo.
[Illustration: Death mowing down the Loves]
Another amusement at this period was the designing of pictorial puns,
after the manner introduced by Cruikshank, which was so successfully
practised by Alken, Seymour, and Tom Hood.
[Illustration: Indian Ink]
[Illustration: Chalk]
[Illustration: A full length]
Among the sketches by the hand of the novelist, which we attribute to
these earlier days, are a number of humorous designs, many of them
equal to the most grotesque efforts of the well-known artists we have
mentioned.
LEGAL DEFINITIONS.
BY A GENTLEMAN WHO MAY BE CALLED TO THE BAR.
[Illustration: Fee Simple]
[Illustration: On freeholds--A general clause]
[Illustration: A declaration]
[Illustration: A rejoinder]
[Illustration: Possession.--With remarks on assault and battery]
[Illustration: An ejectment]
[Illustration: Fives]
[Illustration: Beauty is but skin deep]
The earliest of Thackeray's literary efforts are associated with
Cambridge. It was in the year 1829 that he commenced, in conjunction
with a friend and fellow-student, to edit a series of humorous papers,
published in that city, which bore the title of 'The Snob: a Literary
and Scientific Journal.' The first number appeared on April 9 in that
year, and the publication was continued weekly. Though affecting to be
a periodical, it was not originally intended to publish more than one
number; but the project was carried on for eleven weeks, in which
period Mr. Lettsom had resigned the entire management to his friend.
The contents of each number--which consisted only of four pages--were
scanty and slight, and were made up of squibs and humorous sketches in
verse and prose, many of which, however, show some germs of that
spirit of wild fun which afterwards distinguished the 'Yellowplush
Papers' in 'Fraser.' A specimen of the contents of this curious
publication cannot but be interesting to the reader. The parody we
have selected, a clever skit upon the 'Cambridge Prize Poem,' appeared
as follows:--
[Illustration: Prisoners' base]
TIMBUCTOO.
_To the Editor of 'The Snob.'_
Sir,--Though your name be 'Snob,' I trust you will not
refuse this tiny 'Poem of a Gownsman,' which was unluckily
not finished on the day appointed for delivery of the
several copies of verses on Timbuctoo. I thought, Sir, it
would be a pity that such a poem should be lost to the
world; and conceiving 'The Snob' to be the most
widely-circulated periodical in Europe, I have taken the
liberty of submitting it for insertion or approbation.
I am, Sir, yours, &c. &c. &c.
TIMBUCTOO.--PART I.
_The situation._
In Africa (a quarter of the world)
Men's skins are black, their hair is crisp and curl'd,
And somewhere there, unknown to public view,
A mighty city lies, called Timbuctoo.
[Illustration: Bambooz-ling]
_The natural history._
There stalks the tiger,--there the lion roars, 5
Who sometimes eats the luckless blackamoors;
All that he leaves of them the monster throws
To jackals, vultures, dogs, cats, kites, and crows;
His hunger thus the forest monarch gluts,
And then lies down 'neath trees called cocoa nuts 10
_The lion hunt._
Quick issue out, with musket, torch, and brand,
The sturdy blackamoors, a dusky band!
The beast is found--pop goes the musketoons--
The lion falls covered with horrid wounds.
_Their lives at home._
At home their lives in pleasure always flow, 15
But many have a different lot to know!
_Abroad._
They're often caught, and sold as slaves, alas!
_Reflections on the foregoing._
Thus men from highest joys to sorrow pass.
Yet though thy monarchs and thy nobles boil
Rack and molasses in Jamaica's isle; 20
Desolate Afric! thou art lovely yet!!
One heart yet beats which ne'er thee shall forget.
What though thy maidens are a blackish brown,
Does virtue dwell in whiter breasts alone?
Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no! 25
It shall not, must not, cannot e'er be so.
The day shall come when Albion's self shall feel
Stern Afric's wrath, and writhe 'neath Afric's steel.
I see her tribes the hill of glory mount,
And sell their sugars on their own account; 30
While round her throne the prostrate nations come,
Sue for her rice, and barter for her rum! 32
The burlesque prize poem concludes with a little vignette in the
'Titmarsh' manner, representing an Indian smoking a pipe, of the type
once commonly seen in the shape of a small carved image at the doors
of tobacconists' shops.
* * * * *
Lines 1 and 2.--See 'Guthrie's Geography.'
The site of Timbuctoo is doubtful; the Author has neatly expressed
this in the poem, at the same time giving us some slight hints
relative to its situation.
Line 5.--So Horace: '_leonum arida nutrix._'
Line 8.--Thus Apollo:
ἑλωρία τεῦχε κύνεσσιν
Οἰωνοῖσί τε πᾶσι.
Lines 5-10.--How skilfully introduced are the animal and vegetable
productions of Africa! It is worthy to remark the various garments in
which the Poet hath clothed the lion. He is called, 1st, the 'Lion;'
2nd, the 'Monster' (for he is very large); and 3rd, the 'Forest
Monarch,' which undoubtedly he is.
Lines 11-14.--The author confesses himself under peculiar obligations
to Denham's and Clapperton's Travels, as they suggested to him the
spirited description contained in these lines.
Line 13.--'Pop goes the musketoons.' A learned friend suggested 'Bang'
as a stronger expression, but as African gunpowder is notoriously bad,
the author thought 'Pop' the better word.
Lines 15-18.--A concise but affecting description is here given of the
domestic habits of the people. The infamous manner in which they are
entrapped and sold as slaves is described, and the whole ends with an
appropriate moral sentiment. The Poem might here finish, but the
spirit of the bard penetrates the veil of futurity, and from it cuts
off a bright piece for the hitherto unfortunate Africans, as the
following beautiful lines amply exemplify.
It may perhaps be remarked that the Author has here 'changed his
hand.' He answers that it was his intention to do so. Before, it was
his endeavour to be elegant and concise, it is now his wish to be
enthusiastic and magnificent. He trusts the Reader will perceive the
aptness with which he has changed his style; when he narrated facts he
was calm, when he enters on prophecy he is fervid.
The enthusiasm which he feels is beautifully expressed in lines 25 and
26. He thinks he has very successfully imitated in the last six lines
the best manner of Mr. Pope; and in lines 12-26, the pathetic elegance
of the author of 'Australasia and Athens.'
The Author cannot conclude without declaring that his aim in writing
this Poem will be fully accomplished if he can infuse into the breasts
of Englishmen a sense of the danger in which they lie. Yes--Africa! If
he can awaken one particle of sympathy for thy sorrows, of love for
thy land, of admiration for thy virtue, he shall sink into the grave
with the proud consciousness that he has raised esteem, where before
there was contempt, and has kindled the flame of hope on the
mouldering ashes of despair!
CHAPTER IV.
Early Favourites -- Fielding's 'Joseph Andrews' -- Imitators of
Fielding -- 'The Adventures of Captain Greenland' -- 'Jack
Connor' -- 'Chrysal, or the Adventures of a Guinea.'
Thackeray's references to his favourite novels, and his liking, which
assumed a sort of personal regard, for the authors who had given him
pleasure, especially in youth, occur constantly throughout his
writings, both early and late.
[Illustration: Blind man's buff]
He has told us how in the boyish days spent in the Charterhouse he
began to cultivate an acquaintance with the sterling English humorists
whose works had a deeply-marked influence on his own literary
training. 'Peregrine Pickle' was familiar to him at Greyfriars; later
on, Fielding's masterpieces came into his possession. The buoyant
spirit, vigorous nature, and absence of affectation which are
peculiarly the property of that great novelist, must have highly
delighted the budding author. Not only did Thackeray treasure up 'Tom
Jones' and 'Joseph Andrews,' but by some means he managed to get
possession of various novels now completely obsolete, the productions
of less brilliant contemporaries of Fielding, who were tempted by the
success of his frankly penned novels to attempt to reach a similar
success by walking servilely in the footsteps of the inaugurator of
what may be considered the natural order of English novel writing.
[Illustration: Bambooz-ling]
Of 'Joseph Andrews' he has registered his belief that novel-readers
should like this work best, and it is stated by Dr. Warton that
Fielding gave the preference to this early history above his other
writings. The hero, though but dressed in Lady Booby's cast-off
livery, Thackeray declares to be as polite as Tom Jones in his
fustian, or Captain Booth in his regimentals. 'Joseph,' in his
opinion, 'shares the elements of success with those worthies:' he has
large calves, broad shoulders, high courage, and a handsome face;
qualities apparently deemed by the novelist sure passes to
popularity, and sufficiently certain to win the hearts of the
impressionable.
In the confidentially chatty Roundabout Essays we are favoured with
frequent introductions to the favourites of their author: no
opportunity is lost of making the reader acquainted with his friends.
Let us now turn to one of them--introducing Thackeray's graphic
illustrations.
[Illustration: Pitch and toss]
THE HISTORY OF 'JOSEPH ANDREWS.'
[Illustration]
The edition (1742) of Fielding's earliest novel which formed a portion
of Mr. Titmarsh's library has been enriched by certain characteristic
illustrations of the drollest incidents.
But few of Thackeray's readers can fail to remember his sincere
appreciation of the works of his brilliant predecessor, Justice
Fielding, the founder of that unaffected school of novel-writing which
has since been rendered illustrious by many masterpieces of genius.
It is singularly appropriate that 'Joseph Andrews' happens to form one
of the series distinguished with Thackeray's pencillings, as no one
acquainted with his writings can fail to recall his tenderly
affectionate allusions to the author of 'Tom Jones.'
On the fly-leaf of 'Joseph Andrews' occurs the group of Lady Booby
tempting the Joseph of the Georgian era, which is engraved above: the
cut gives, without effort, a key to the wittiest of sly satires; for
we cannot easily forget that merry mischievous Fielding projected this
work as a ludicrous contrast to the exemplary 'Pamela,' whose literary
success brought its well-meaning prosy author so much fame, profit,
and flattery. The wicked irony of Fielding was peculiarly shocking to
sensitive Richardson; and it is certain that the persecuted Pamela
appears shorn of much of her dignity when associated with the
undignified temptations suffered by her unexceptionable brother
'Joseph.'
The substance of this novel is so generally familiar that the merest
reference will refresh the memories of our readers so far as the
incidents illustrated by these slight pencillings are concerned.
Parson Adams, it may be remembered, endeavoured to raise a loan on a
volume of manuscript sermons to assist Joseph Andrews, when Tow-mouse
(the landlord), who mistrusted the security, offered excuses.
[Illustration]
Poor Adams was extremely dejected at this disappointment. He
immediately applied to his pipe, his constant friend and comfort in
his afflictions; and leaning over the rails, he devoted himself to
meditation, assisted by the inspiring fumes of tobacco.
He had on a night-cap drawn over his wig, and a short great coat,
which half covered his cassock; a dress which, added to something
comical enough in his countenance, composed a figure likely to attract
the eyes of those who were not over-given to observation.
[Illustration]
Joseph Andrews and Parson Adams arrived at the inn in no cheery
plight, the hero's leg having been injured by a propensity for
performing unexpected genuflections, the pride of a horse borrowed by
the parson for the occasion. The host, a surly fellow, treated the
damaged Joseph with roughness, and Parson Adams briskly resented the
landlord's brutality by 'sending him sprawling' on his own floor. His
wife retaliated by seizing a pan of hog's-blood, which unluckily stood
on the dresser, and discharging its contents in the good parson's
face. Mrs. Slipshod entered the kitchen at this critical moment, and
attacked the hostess with a skill developed by practice, tearing her
cap, uprooting handfuls of hair, and delivering a succession of
dexterous facers.
[Illustration]
Parson Adams, when he required a trifling loan, ventured to wait on
the swinish Parson Trulliber, whose wife introduced Adams in error, as
'a man come for some of his hogs.' Trulliber asserted that his animals
were all pure fat, and upwards of twenty score apiece; he then dragged
the parson into his stye, which was but two steps from his
parlour-window, insisting that he should examine them before he would
speak one word with him. Adams, whose natural complacence was beyond
any artifice, was obliged to comply before he was suffered to explain
himself, and laying hold of one of their tails, the wanton beast gave
such a sudden spring that he threw poor Adams full length in the mire.
Trulliber, instead of assisting him to get up, burst into laughter,
and, entering the stye, said to Adams, with some contempt, 'Why, dost
not know how to handle a hog?'
[Illustration]
To those writers whose heroes are of their own creation, and whose
brains are the chaos whence all their materials are collected--one may
apply the saying of Balzac regarding Aristotle, that they are a second
nature, for they have no communication with the first, by which
authors of an inferior class, who cannot stand alone, are obliged to
support themselves as with crutches; but these of whom I am now
speaking seem to be possessed of those stilts which the excellent
Voltaire tells us, in his letters, _carry the genius far off, but with
an irregular pace_. Indeed, far out of the sight of the reader--
_Beyond the realm of chaos and old night._
[Illustration]
The pedlar, introduced in these adventures, while relating to Joseph
Andrews and Parson Adams the early history of Fanny (then returned
from Lady Booby's), proceeded thus: 'Though I am now contented with
this humble way of getting my livelihood, I was formerly a gentleman;
for so all those of my profession are called. In a word, I was drummer
in an Irish regiment of foot. Whilst I was in this honourable station,
I attended an officer of our regiment into England, a recruiting.' The
pedlar then described meeting a gipsy-woman, who confided to him, on
her death-bed, that she had kidnapped a beautiful female infant from a
family named Andrews, and sold her to Squire Booby for three guineas.
In Fanny he professed to recognise the stolen infant.
'THE ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN GREENLAND.'
[Illustration]
'The Adventures of Captain Greenland,' an anonymous novel published in
1752, is avowedly 'written in imitation of all those wise, learned,
witty, and humorous authors who either have or hereafter may write in
the same style and manner.'
The story, divided over a tedious number of books--like the high-flown
romances of the 'Grand Cyrus' order--also resembles those antiquated
and unreal elaborations in the astonishing intrepidity of its
professed hero, Sylvius, who, however, engages, like his model 'Joseph
Andrews,' in situations generally described as menial. Captain
Greenland himself, denuded of his powerful swearing propensities,
might be regarded at this date as an interesting curiosity, a British
commander of the true-blue salt type. A parson, and other characters
suggestive of the acquaintances we make in 'Joseph Andrews,'
contribute to swell the 'dramatis personæ.' A portion of the
adventures, which are neither new nor startling, consists of escapes
from Spanish convents, and complications connected with the Romanist
faith, not unlike somewhat kindred allusions in Richardson's 'Sir
Charles Grandison.'
A stage-coach journey occupies ten chapters of one book; and the
travellers relieve this lengthy travel (from Worcester to London) by
unfinished anecdotes. Captain Greenland relates an adventure with a
highwayman who once stopped his coach. The 'gentleman of the road'
bade the driver 'unrein.' The captain seized his blunderbuss and
'jumped ashore,' thinking it a scandal that a gentleman who had the
honour of commanding one of His Majesty's ships of war should suffer
himself to be boarded and plundered by a single fellow. Being a little
warm and hasty, he salutes his enemy with, '"Blank my heart, but you
are a blank cowardly rascal, and a blank mean-spirited villain! You
scoundrel, you! you lurk about the course here to plunder every poor
creature you meet, that have nothing at all to defend themselves; but
you dare not engage with one that is able to encounter with you. Here,
you rascal! if you dare fight for it, win it and wear it." With that I
pulled out my purse and money, and flung it to the ground between us;
but the faint-hearted blank durst as well be blank'd as come near me.
So after I had swore myself pretty well out of wind (judging from the
captain's ordinary vernacular, the strongest lungs could not have held
out long), I ran towards him with my cock'd blunderbuss ready in my
hand; but he at that very moment tacked about, and sheer'd off. I now
picked up my purse, and went aboard the coach; but, blank my heart! I
can't forgive myself for not saluting the rascal with one broadside.'
[Illustration]
At the conclusion of ten chapters of stage-coach journeying, the
author brilliantly observes, 'He has cooped up his readers for a
considerable time,' and the captain swears the coach is somewhat
'over-manned.'
'At night they were all exceedingly merry and agreeable; and the
generous captain again insisted upon paying the bill himself, which he
found no matter of fault with, but in the customary article (at that
place) of sixpence a head for firing; which he swore was as much as
could have been demanded if they had supp'd at an inn in the middle of
the Pacific Ocean.'
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The next day's journey being happily concluded, without any
extraordinary occurrences, they arrived about six o'clock in the
afternoon at the 'Blue Boar Inn, in Holborn, where they all agreed to
sup together, and to lie that night.'
Rosetta the heroine, and her brother, Sir Christopher, attended by the
faithful Sylvius as steward, embark at Portsmouth for Lisbon. After
some thirty hours' sea-sickness, Rosetta resumed her usual
cheerfulness by making merry over her late incapacity. 'Sylvius was
yet as bad as any of them. The knight (her brother) was also in the
same helpless condition, and continued in the same manner till he was
eased of the lofty tosses which were so plentifully bestowed on them
by the restless Biscaian Bay.' They all recover at last, and are
diverted by the shoals of wanton porpoises. 'By and by their remarks
turned on their "little bark's climbing so wonderfully over the vast
ridges of the mountainous waves, which formed perpetual and amazing
prospects of over-rolling hills and vales, as could scarcely meet
belief from those who had never been at sea."'
'JACK CONNOR.'
'Jack Connor' is another instance of the novels written by imitators
of Fielding. Aiming to produce an unaffected and easy style of
fiction, enlivened by incidents of every-day interest, it falls far
short of the standard to which it aspires, as one would reasonably
suppose. The book is anonymous, and is dedicated to Henry Fox,
'Secretary at War,' and was published in 1752; it is founded on a
rambling plot, detailing the adventures of a 'waif' thrown on the
world by his Irish parents. The first volume is mostly occupied by
youthful 'amours,' and ends with the 'Story Of Polly Gunn,' which
unfortunately bears a certain resemblance to De Foe's 'Moll Flanders,'
in a condensed form.
'Jack Connor' had a patron, a marvellously proper man, the 'model of
righteous walking,' and the dispenser of admirable precepts, over
which the hero grew eminently sentimental; but directly after acted in
direct opposition to the teaching of this worthy guardian. The
pencilling we have selected from the margin of vol. i. illustrates a
passage describing the scandals of the kitchen, which affixed to Jack
Connor's benefactor, Mr. Kindly, the questionable honour of being
father to his protégé.
'I hope,' said Tittle, 'your la'ship won't be angry with me, only they
say that the boy is as like Mr. Kindly as two peas; but they say,
"Mem"----'
'Hold your impertinent tongue,' said my lady; 'is this the occasion of
so much giggle? You are an ungrateful pack. I am sure 'tis false,' &c.
[Illustration]
'Indeed,' said Tittle, 'if I've said anything to offend your
la'ship----'
'Yes, madam,' said my lady, 'you have greatly offended me; and so you
all have,' &c.
Poor Mrs. Tittle was not only vastly disappointed, but greatly
frightened. She informed the rest of the reception she had met with.
The servants were quite surprised at the oddity of her ladyship's
temper, and quoted many examples diametrically opposite.
'I'm sure,' said Mrs. Tittle, 'had I told as much to Squire Smart's
lady, we should have laughed together about it the livelong night!'
'Ay, ay,' said Mrs. Matthews, 'God bless the good Lady Malign! When I
waited on her in Yorkshire, many a gown, and petticoat, and smock have
I gotten for telling her half so much; but, to be sure, some people
think themselves wiser than all the world!'
'Hold, hold,' said Tom Blunt, the butler. 'Now, d'ye see, if so be as
how my lady is wrong, she'll do you right; and if so be as how my lady
is right, how like fools and ninnihammers will you all look!'
In vol. ii. we find Jack Connor resorting to the reputable profession
of 'gentleman of the road;' he plans his first 'stand-and-deliver'
venture in company with two experienced highwaymen. Hounslow is the
popular spot selected for his _début_. Thither he proceeds in a
post-chaise from Piccadilly, having arranged for his horse in advance.
Two circumstances favour him; he knows a family in the neighbourhood,
and he wears a surtout of a cloth that is blue on one side and red on
the other, and that has no other lining. In a blue coat with scarlet
cuffs he orders wine, arranges for a return post-chaise, and enquires
the address of the people whose name he knows. He then departs,
secures his horse, and turns his coat; he is behind-hand, and the
coach just then coming up, the two highwaymen lead the attack: one is
shot, and the other disabled and captured. Connor escapes in the
confusion, ties up his horse, turns his coat, and walks back to the
inn for his post-chaise, which is delayed, one horse being wanting.
The landlord enters. 'There, now,' said he, 'is two fine gentlemen
that have made a noble kettle of fish of it this morning!'
[Illustration]
'Bless me, my dear,' said his wife, 'what's the matter?'
'Not much; only a coach was stopped on the heath by three highwaymen,
and two of 'em is now taken, and at the next inn.'
'Dear sirs,' said the landlady, ''tis the most preposteroustest thing
in life that gentlefolks won't travel in post-chaises; and then
they're always safe from these fellows.'
'Well,' said the husband, 'I must send after the third, who escaped;
I'll engage to find out his scarlet coat before night.'
Connor, recollecting his situation, chimed in with the hostess, and
spoke greatly against the disturbers of the public. At last he took
leave, mounted his chaise, and got safe to London; but often thought
the horses very bad.
[Illustration]
Jack Connor, after various vicissitudes, was at last reduced to
service, and was employed as secretary by Sir John Curious, an infirm
compound of wealth and avarice, married, in his last days, to a young
wife. Connor became unpopular with the ladies of the establishment, on
account of his over-correct behaviour. One day he was busy reading to
Sir John, when Mr. Sampson, a wine merchant, entered. The knight had a
great regard for this gentleman, and was extremely civil to him.
'Well, friend Sampson,' said he, 'time was when we used to meet
oftener; but this plaguy gout makes me perform a tedious quarantine,
you see.'
'Ah, Sir John,' replied Mr. Sampson, 'you are at anchor in a safe
harbour; but I have all your ailments, and am buffeted about in stormy
winds.'
'Not so, not so,' answered the knight; 'I hope my old friend is in no
danger of shipwreck. No misfortunes, I hope.'
'None,' said Mr. Sampson, 'but what my temper can bear. I have lost my
only child, just such a youth as that (pointing to Jack). I have lost
the best part of my substance by the war, and I have found old age and
infirmities.'
Sir John regretted that he could not assist his friend with a loan,
but he paid his account for wine, and handed over Connor to assist Mr.
Sampson in his business.
[Illustration]
After a long letter on the state of Ireland--which appeared even in
1744 a question beyond the wisdom of legislation to dispose of
satisfactorily--the author apologises for his digressions with
considerable novelty. 'I am afraid I have carried my reader too far
from the subject-matter of this history, and tried his patience; but I
assure him that my indulgence has been very great, for, at infinite
pains, I have curtailed the last chapter (the Irish question) at least
sixty pages. Few know the difficulty of bridling the imagination, and
reining back a hard-mouthed pen. It sometimes gets ahead, and, in
spite of all our skill, runs away with us into mire and dirt; nay, at
this minute I find my quill in a humour to gallop, so shall stop him
short in time.'
The life of Connor is chequered. He finally figures as a captain of
dragoons in the campaign in Flanders, under the 'Culloden' Duke. He
performs deeds of valour with the army, and rescues a Captain Thornton
from three assailants, preserves his life and secures his gratitude.
He next appears at Cadiz, on a commercial errand, and he regains his
long-lost mother in Mrs. Magraph, a wealthy widow, to whom he had
made love. This lady, who had saved thirty thousand pounds, was very
communicative; she finally recognised him as her son, and acquainted
him that Sir Roger Thornton, the life of whose son he had preserved,
was in reality his father, and not Connor, as he had previously
believed. The hero then set out for Paris. The ship was ready to sail.
All were concerned at losing so polite a companion, and he was loaded
with praises and caresses. His mother could not bear it with that
resignation she at first thought; but, however, she raised her
spirits, and with many blessings saw him set sail.
[Illustration]
The voyage was prosperous, and he arrived at Marseilles, safe and in
good health. He took post for Paris, and embraced his dear friend
Captain Thornton, as indicated in the marginal illustration. Jack
Connor marries a lord's daughter, and becomes an Irish landed
gentleman. The author concludes with the regret that he has not the
materials to reveal his hero's future.
'CHRYSAL, OR THE ADVENTURES OF A GUINEA.'
[Illustration]
We gather from the copy of this work, which was formerly on the
shelves of Thackeray's library, that 'Chrysal' had reached seven
editions in 1771, having been originally published in 1760, with a
highly laudatory dedication to William Pitt.
The bookseller's prefix to the first edition is slightly imaginative.
To describe its nature briefly, the publisher, while taking a country
stroll in Whitechapel, then an Arcadian village, was overtaken by a
shower, and sought shelter in a cottage where a humble family were
breakfasting. His eye was caught by a sheet of manuscript which had
done duty for a butter-plate. Its contents interested him, and he
learnt that the chandler next door wrapped up her commodities in such
materials. He made an experimental purchase, which was done up in
another leaf of the paper. Cautious enquiries elicited that brown
paper being costly, and a quantity of old 'stuff' having been left by
a long deceased lodger of her departed mother's, the manuscript was
thus turned into use. The enterprising publisher invested 1_s._ 6_d._
for brown paper, and secured the entire remaining sheets in exchange.
Finding, on perusal, that he had secured matter of some literary
value, he pursued his investigations with the same lady, and learned
that the author was an unfortunate schemer, who, after wasting his
entire fortune in seeking the philosopher's stone, perceived his folly
too late, wrote the story of 'Chrysal' in ridicule of the fallacy of
golden visions, and expired before he could realise any profit by the
publication of his papers. The bookseller secretly resolved to admit
the good woman to a half share of the profits of her 'heirship,' and
'Chrysal' appeared. It excited some attention, and had various charges
laid to its account.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
The scheme is ingenious, tracing the guinea from its projection, and
giving an account of the successive stages of its changing existence.
We are admitted to contemplate the influence of gold in various
situations; with dissertations on 'traffic,' and, in short, follow the
history of a guinea through the possession of numerous owners, male
and female, while the reader is by these means introduced to some very
curious situations.
[Illustration]
The little design in the margin occurs in the history of a horned
cock, a parody on collectors of curiosities, describing the manner in
which a noble 'virtuoso' was imposed upon by a cunning vendor of
wonderful productions. There was considerable competition to secure
the composite phenomenon, and when his lordship obtained it, a
convocation of 'savants' was summoned to report on the marvel. The
bird, a game-cock, had unfortunately taken offence at an owl in a
neighbouring cage, and when the company arrived it had rubbed off one
of the horns and disturbed the other. While arguing that the bird had
shed its horn in the course of nature, one of the company dropped some
snuff near the bird's eye, who thereupon shook his head with
sufficient violence to dislodge the remaining horn; exposing the
imposture, and overwhelming the virtuoso with such vexation that the
cock was sacrificed to Æsculapius forthwith.
[Illustration]
The guinea gets into the hands of a justice of the peace, in the shape
of a bribe, and a very remarkable state of corruption and traffic in
iniquity is displayed. The little pencilling of a quaint figure
holding the scales occurs on the margin of a paragraph which records a
warm dispute between the justice and his clerk on the proportioning of
their plunder, the clerk revolting against an arrangement by which it
is proposed to confine him to a bare third! The dispute is checked by
the arrival of some customers, matrons dwelling within the justice's
district, who come to compound with him in regular form 'for the
breach of those laws he is appointed to support.'
The sketches pencilled in 'Chrysal' do not follow the story very
closely; indeed, they can hardly be intimately associated with the
text they accompany. This, however, is quite an exceptional case; the
drawings found in Mr. Thackeray's books being, in nearly every
instance, very felicitous embodiments of the subject-matter of the
works they illustrate.
On a fly-leaf of 'Chrysal' is a jovial sketch of light-hearted and
nimble-toed tars, forming a realistic picture of the good cheer a
guinea may command, and immediately suggestive of bags of prize-money,
apoplectically stored with the yellow boys which, in the good old
days, were supposed to profusely line the pockets of true salts when
they indulged in the delights of a spell on shore: this was the time
when sailors experimented in frying, as the story represents them,
superfluous watches in bacon-fat, as a scientific relaxation, when the
ships were paid off at Portsmouth, and 'jolly tars' had invested in
more timekeepers than the exigencies of punctuality strictly demanded.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER V.
Continental Ramble -- A Stolen Trip to Paris -- Residence at
Weimar -- Contributions to Albums -- Burlesque State -- German
Sketches and Studies -- The Weimar Theatre -- Goethe -- Souvenirs
of the Saxon city -- 'Journal kept during a visit to Germany.'
We cannot take leave of Thackeray's college days without referring to
the first trip he made to Paris during a vacation, on his own
responsibility, and, indeed, without consulting his pastors and
masters on the subject. This little episode occurred when he was
nineteen years old; and, excepting for considerable remorse at the
subterfuge by which he had got away, he seems to have enjoyed himself
very much.
[Illustration: 1828]
[Illustration: Coachee, 1830]
[Illustration: 1828]
[Illustration: A dowager]
[Illustration: A German court chaplain]
[Illustration: A postilion]
[Illustration: Apollo surrounded by his tuneful band. (Sketched in a
music-book.)]
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Rara avis in terris, nigroque simillima cigno.
(Album oddities. Weimar, 1830)]
[Illustration: Weimar, 1830]
[Illustration: A Royal banquet]
[Illustration: A Weimar sketch]
[Illustration: Schiller's plays. Weimar, 1830]
Soon afterwards Thackeray seems to have repaired to Weimar, in Saxony,
where, as he describes it, he lived with a score of young English
lads, 'for study, or sport, or society.' Mr. G. H. Lewes, in his 'Life
of Goethe,' tells us that Weimar albums still display with pride the
caricatures which the young artist sketched at that period. 'My
delight in those days,' says Mr. Thackeray, 'was to make caricatures
for children'--a habit, we may add, which he never forgot. Years
afterwards, in the fulness of his fame, revisiting Weimar, he found,
to his great delight, that these were yet remembered, and some even
preserved still; but he was much more proud to be told, as a lad, that
the great Goethe himself had looked at some of them. In a letter to
his friend Mr. Lewes, inserted by the latter in the work referred to,
Thackeray has given a pleasing picture of this period of his life, and
of the circle in which he found himself.
[Illustration: Church militant]
[Illustration: Triumphal march of the British forces]
[Illustration: Opera at Weimar]
Readers familiar with the 'Rose and the Ring,' Thackeray's popular
Christmas book, will recognise in the sketch on page 93 the artist's
fondness for playing with royalty--especially with pantomimic royalty.
The Weimar court was full of old ceremony, and yet most pleasant and
homely withal. Thackeray and his friends were invited in turns to
dinners, balls, and assemblies there. Such young men as had a right
appeared in uniforms, diplomatic and military. Some invented gorgeous
clothing: the old Hof Marschall, M. de Spiegel, who had two of the
most lovely daughters ever looked on, being in nowise difficult as to
the admission of these young Englanders. On winter nights they used
to charter sedan chairs, in which they were carried through the snow
to these court entertainments. Here young Thackeray had the good luck
to purchase Schiller's sword, which formed a part of his court
costume, and which hung in his study till the day of his death, to put
him (as he said) in mind of days of youth the most kindly and
delightful.
[Illustration: Shakspeare at Weimar]
[Illustration: Operatic reminiscences at Weimar]
Here, too, he had the advantage of the society of his friend and
fellow-student at Cambridge, Mr. W. G. Lettsom, later Her Majesty's
Chargé-d'Affaires at Uruguay, but who was at the period referred to
attached to the suite of the English Minister at Weimar. To the
kindness of this gentleman he was indebted in a considerable degree
for the introductions he obtained to the best families in the town.
Thackeray was always fond of referring to this period of his life.
[Illustration: A German fencing bout]
The spirited sketch of a German Fencing Bout given on the preceding
page, was probably drawn on the spot during the progress of the
combat. The collegians enable us to construct a realistic picture of
the student of a generation ago.
[Illustration: German student of the period. (Weimar, 1830)]
The object of the combatants being to inflict a prick or scratch in
some conspicuous part of the face, the rest of the person is carefully
padded and protected. In our days the loose cap with its pointed peak
has disappeared before its gay muffin-shaped substitute; but the
traditional pride in a scarred face is still observable. Even at the
present day we find the youths of German University towns rejoicing in
a seam down the nose, or swaggering in the conscious dignity of a
slashed cheek, as outward and visible evidence of the warlike soul
within.
[Illustration: Goethe. A sketch from the Fraser portrait]
[Illustration: Goethe
(Sketched at Weimar, 1830)]
Devrient, who appeared some years since at the St. James's Theatre in
German versions of Shakspeare, was performing at Weimar at that
period, in 'Shylock,' 'Hamlet,' 'Falstaff,' and the 'Robbers;' and the
beautiful Madame Schröder was appearing in 'Fidelio.'
The young English students at Weimar spent their evenings in
frequenting the performances at the theatres, or attending the levées
of the Court ladies.
After an interval of nearly a quarter of a century, Thackeray passed a
couple of days in the well-remembered place, where he was fortunate
enough to find still some of the friends of his youth. With his
daughters he was received by Madame de Goethe with the kindness of old
days; the little party once again drank tea in that famous cottage
in the park which had been a favourite resort of the illustrious poet.
[Illustration: A souvenir]
[Illustration: Album sketches]
During his residence at Weimar in 1831 Thackeray saw and shared a
great deal of pleasant life; and although the world of the little
German capital was one in miniature, the experience he gained in it
was turned to good account in after years. It was at this visit he had
the happiness of meeting the great Goethe, who had then withdrawn from
society: he would, nevertheless, receive strangers with marked
cordiality; and the tea-table of his daughter-in-law was always spread
for the entertainment of these favoured young sojourners.
[Illustration: A swell]
[Illustration: A buck]
In October 1830, we find Thackeray writing from Weimar to a bookseller
in Charterhouse Square, for a liberal supply of the Bath post paper on
which he wrote his verses and drew his countless sketches. On certain
sheets of this paper, after his memorable interview with Goethe, we
find the young artist trying to trace from recollection the features
of the remarkable face which had deeply impressed his fancy (see p.
100). There are portraits in pen and ink, and others washed with
colour to imitate more closely the complexion of the study he was
endeavouring to work out. The letter to which we here refer contains
an order of an extensive character, for the current literature, which
throws some light on his tastes at this period:--'Fraser's _Town and
Country Magazine_ for August, September, October, and November. The
four last numbers of the _Examiner_ and _Literary Gazette_, _The Comic
Annual_, _The Keepsake_, and any others of the best annuals, and
_Bombastes Furioso_, with Geo. Cruikshank's illustrations. The parcel
to be directed to Dr. Frohrib, Industrie Comptoir, Weimar.'
Among the ingenuous confessions of Fitz-Boodle in 'Fraser,' we are
admitted to three romantic episodes, all of them being directed as
warnings to over-fervent young men--'Miss Löwe' (Oct. 1842),
'Dorothea' (Jan. 1843), 'Ottilia' (Feb. 1843): none of these tender
records of his early German experiences are reprinted with Thackeray's
'Miscellanies.' We learn incidentally in 'Ottilia' the delightful fee
accorded to gallant drivers on the occasion of sledging parties, which
formed a leading amusement of a Saxon winter. A large company of a
score or more sledges was formed. Away they went to some
pleasure-house previously fixed upon as a _rendezvous_, where a ball
and supper were ready prepared, and where each _cavalier_, as his
partner descended, has the 'delicious privilege of saluting her.'
Thackeray has turned the observations he made during his residence in
the Saxon city to famous satirical account in the construction of his
typical Court of Pumpernickel, situated on the Pump rivulet. We meet
the most effective sarcastic sketches of the mimic court in various
parts of his writings, great and small. It was in these sister Duchies
that Pitt Crawley served as an _attaché_ to the British
representative. It was while dining at the table of Tapeworm, the
Secretary of our Legation there, that the author declares he first
learnt the sad particulars of the career of Mrs. Rawdon Crawley, _née_
Rebecca Sharp. It was here, too, in the theatre that he describes
first meeting with Amelia, then Mrs. Osborne, attended by her brother
Jos. Sedley, with her son George, and his guardian, faithful Major
Dobbin; when the little party were sojourning, as favoured visitors,
in the famous dominions (stretching nearly ten miles) of his
Transparency Victor Aurelius XVIII. The reader will remember being
presented, in one of the later chapters of 'Vanity Fair,' with a
humorous burlesque of the entire Grand Ducal Court--its belongings,
society, administration, foreign legations, politics, fêtes, and what
not; with a detailed description of the noble bridge thrown across
the Pump by his renowned Transparency Victor Aurelius XIV., whose
effigy rises above the erection; his foot calmly resting on the neck
of a prostrate Turk, and surrounded by water-nymphs and emblems of
victory, peace, and plenty. The prince is smiling blandly, and
directing with his outstretched truncheon the attention of the passer
to the Aurelian Platz, where this great-souled hero had commenced a
palace that would have been the wonder of the age, if the funds for
its completion had not been exhausted. A previous introduction to the
splendours of Kalbsbraten-Pumpernickel had been afforded the readers
of 'Fraser,' where we are informed that it contained a population of
two thousand inhabitants, and a palace (_Monblaïsir_, the rival of
Versailles) which would accommodate about six times that number. The
Principality furnished a contingent of three and a half men to the
Germanic Confederation; only three of whom returned from the field of
Waterloo. This army corps was commanded by a General (Excellency), two
major-generals, and sixty-four officers of lower grades; all noble,
all knights of the order of Kartoffel, and almost all chamberlains to
his Highness the Grand Duke. A band of eighty performers led the
troops to battle in time of war; executed selections daily, in more
peaceful intervals, for the admiration of the neighbourhood; and at
night did duty on the stage.
[Illustration]
There was supposed to be a chamber of representatives, who were not
remembered to have ever sat, home and foreign ministers, residents
from neighbouring courts, law-presidents, town councils, &c., and all
the usual great government functionaries. The Court had its chamberlains
and marshals; the Grand Duchess her noble ladies-in-waiting, and
beauteous maids of honour. Besides the sentries at the palace, there
were three or four men on duty, dressed as hussars; but the historian
could not discover that they ever rode on horseback.
[Illustration: A German peasant maiden]
The Prime Minister had lodgings in a second floor, and the other great
officers were similarly accommodated: their titles were, however, a
distinction in themselves--Otho Sigismond Freyherr von Schlippenschlopps,
for instance, Knight Grand Cross of the Ducal Order of the Two Necked
Swan of Pumpernickel, of the Porc-et-Sifflet of Kalbsbraten, Commander
of the George and Blue Boar of Dummerland, Excellency and High
Chancellor of the United Duchies, is described as enjoying, with his
private income and the revenues of his offices, a total of nearly
three hundred pounds per annum, and, in consequence of this handsome
provision, being able to display such splendour as few officers of the
Grand Ducal Crown could afford.
[Illustration: Sleighing]
These high-sounding titles were not confined to the military and
diplomatic bodies: the memorable town pump had been designed by
_Herr Oberhof und bau Inspektor von Speck_; whose wife was honourably
referred to as 'The Grand-ducal Pumpernickelian-court-architectress,
and Upper-palace-and-building-inspectress, Von Speck.'
The preceding sketch of sleighing, which has all the life and spirit
of a drawing executed whilst the recollection of its subject is still
fresh, was evidently made at the period of Thackeray's residence at
Weimar. He has left various pen-and-ink dottings of the quaint houses
in this town, which correspond with the little buildings in the
landscape on p. 101.
Among the volumes originally in Thackeray's possession was a book,
privately printed, containing portions of the diaries of Mrs. Colonel
St. George, written during her sojourn among the German courts, 1799
and 1800. As the margins of the book are pencilled with slight but
graphic etchings illustrative of the matter, we insert a few extracts
while treating of Thackeray's early experience of Weimar, as
harmonising with this part of our subject. It may be premised that the
actual sketches belong to a considerably later date.
'JOURNAL KEPT DURING A VISIT TO GERMANY IN 1799, 1800.'
'_Vienna, July 18, 1800._--Dined at La Gardie's; read "Les Mères
Rivales" aloud, while she made a _couvre-pied_ for her approaching
confinement; her mother worked a cap for the babe, and he sat down to
his netting: it was a black shawl for his wife. A fine tall man, a
soldier, too, with a very martial appearance, netting a shawl for his
wife amused me.
'_Dresden, Oct. 2._--Dined at the Elliots'.[2] While I was playing at
chess with Mr. Elliot, came the news of Lord Nelson's arrival, with
Sir William and Lady Hamilton, Mrs. Cadogan, mother of the latter, and
Miss Cornelia Knight, famous for her "Continuation of Rasselas" and
her "Private Life of the Romans."[3]
[Illustration: A fancy portrait]
'_Oct. 3._--Dined at Mr. Elliot's, with only the Nelson party. It is
plain that Lord Nelson thinks of nothing but Lady Hamilton, who is
totally occupied by the same object. She is bold, forward, coarse,
assuming, and vain. Her figure is colossal, but, excepting her feet,
well shaped. Her bones are large, and she is exceedingly _embonpoint_.
She resembles the bust of Ariadne: the shape of all her features is
fine, as is the form of her head, and particularly her ears; her teeth
are a little irregular, but tolerably white; her eyes light blue, with
a brown spot in one, which, though a defect, takes nothing away from
her beauty and expression. Her eyebrows and hair are dark, and her
complexion coarse. Her expression is strongly marked, variable, and
interesting; her movements in common life ungraceful; her voice loud,
yet not disagreeable. Lord Nelson is a little man, without any
dignity; who, I suppose, must resemble what Suwarrow was in his youth,
as he is like all the pictures I have seen of that general. Lady
Hamilton takes possession of him, and he is a willing captive, the
most submissive and devoted I have seen. Sir William is old, infirm,
all admiration of his wife, and never spoke to-day but to applaud her.
Miss Cornelia Knight seems the decided flatterer of the two, and never
opens her mouth but to show forth their praise; and Mrs. Cadogan, Lady
Hamilton's mother, is what one might expect. After dinner we had
several songs in honour of Lord Nelson, written by Miss Knight, and
sung by Lady Hamilton. She puffs the incense full in his face; but he
receives it with pleasure and sniffs it up very cordially. The songs
all ended in the sailor's way, with "Hip, hip, hip, hurra!" and a
bumper with the last drop on the nail, a ceremony I had never heard of
or seen before.
'_Oct. 4._--Accompanied the Nelson party to Mr. Elliot's box at the
opera. She and Lord Nelson were wrapped up in each other's
conversation during the chief part of the evening.
'_Oct. 5._--Went, by Lady Hamilton's invitation, to see Lord Nelson
dressed for court. On his hat he wore the large diamond feather, or
ensign of sovereignty, given him by the Grand Signior; on his breast
the order of the Bath, the order he received as Duke of Bronte; the
diamond star, including the sun or crescent, given him by the Grand
Signior; three gold medals, obtained by three different victories; and
a beautiful present from the King of Naples. On one side is His
Majesty's picture, richly set, and surrounded with laurels, which
spring from two united laurels at bottom, and support the Neapolitan
crown at top; on the other is the Queen's cipher, which turns so as to
appear within the same laurels, and is formed of diamonds on green
enamel. In short, Lord Nelson was a perfect constellation of stars and
orders.
'_Oct. 7._--Breakfasted with Lady Hamilton, and saw her represent in
succession the best statues and paintings extant. She assumes their
attitude, expression, and drapery with great facility, swiftness, and
accuracy. Several Indian shawls, a chair, some antique vases, a wreath
of roses, a tambourine, and a few children are her whole apparatus.
She stands at one end of the room, with a strong light on her left,
and every other window closed. Her hair is short, dressed like an
antique, and her gown a simple calico chemise, very easy, with loose
sleeves to the wrist. She disposes the shawls so as to form Grecian,
Turkish, and other drapery, as well as a variety of turbans. Her
arrangement of the turbans is absolutely sleight-of-hand; she does it
so quickly, so easily, and so well. It is a beautiful performance,
amusing to the most ignorant, and highly interesting to the lovers of
art. The chief of her imitations are from the antique. Each
representation lasts about ten minutes. It is remarkable that, though
coarse and ungraceful in common life, she becomes highly graceful, and
even beautiful, during this performance. After showing her attitudes,
she sang, and I accompanied. Her voice is good and very strong, but
she is frequently out of tune; her expression strongly marked and
various; but she has no flexibility, and no sweetness. She acts her
songs....
'Still she does not gain upon me. I think her bold, daring, vain even
to folly, and stamped with the manners of her first situation much
more strongly than one would suppose, after having represented
majesty, and lived in good company fifteen years. Her ruling passions
seem to me vanity, avarice, and love for the pleasures of the table.
Mr. Elliot says, "She will captivate the Prince of Wales, whose mind
is as vulgar as her own, and play a great part in England."
'_Oct. 8._--Dined at Madame de Loss's, wife to the Prime Minister,
with the Nelson party. The Electress will not receive Lady Hamilton,
on account of her former dissolute life. She wished to go to court, on
which a pretext was made to avoid receiving company last Sunday, and I
understand there will be no court while she stays. Lord Nelson,
understanding the Elector did not wish to see her, said to Mr. Elliot,
"Sir, if there is any difficulty of that sort, Lady Hamilton will
knock the Elector down, and ---- me, I'll knock him down too!"
[Illustration]
'_Oct. 9._--A great breakfast at the Elliots', given to the Nelson
party. Lady Hamilton repeated her attitudes with great effect. All the
company, except their party and myself, went away before dinner; after
which Lady Hamilton, who declared she was passionately fond of
champagne, took such a portion of it as astonished me. Lord Nelson was
not behindhand, called more vociferously than usual for songs in his
own praise, and after many bumpers proposed the Queen of Naples,
adding, "She is my queen; she is queen to the backbone." Poor Mr.
Elliot, who was anxious the party should not expose themselves more
than they had done already, and wished to get over the last day as
well as he had done the rest, endeavoured to stop the effusion of
champagne, and effected it with some difficulty, but not till the lord
and lady, or, as he calls them, Antony and Moll Cleopatra, were pretty
far gone. I was so tired, I returned home soon after dinner; but not
till Cleopatra had talked to me a great deal of her doubts whether the
queen would receive her, adding, "I care little about it. I had much
sooner she would settle half Sir William's pension on me." After I
went, Mr. Elliot told me she acted Nina intolerably ill, and danced
the _Tarantula_. During her acting, Lord Nelson expressed his
admiration by the Irish sound of astonished applause, and by crying
every now and then, "Mrs. Siddons be ----!" Lady Hamilton expressed
great anxiety to go to court, and Mrs. Elliot assured her it would not
amuse her, and that the Elector never gave dinners or suppers. "What?"
cried she, "no guttling!" Sir William also this evening performed
feats of activity, hopping round the room on his backbone, his arms,
legs, star and ribbon all flying about in the air.
'_Oct. 10._--Mr. Elliot saw them on board to-day. He heard, by chance,
from a king's messenger, that a frigate waited for them at Hamburg,
and ventured to announce it formally. He says: "The moment they were
on board, there was an end of the fine arts, of the attitudes, of the
acting, the dancing, and the singing. Lady Hamilton's maid began to
scold, in French, about some provisions which had been forgot. Lady
Hamilton began bawling for an Irish stew, and her old mother set about
washing the potatoes, which she did as cleverly as possible. They were
exactly like Hogarth's actresses dressing in the barn."'
At Berlin, the fair diarist was introduced to Beurnonville, the French
minister, who had gained notoriety for his services at Valmy and
Gemappes. He was one of the commissioners despatched by the convention
to arrest Dumouriez, who, it may be remembered, treated him with
marked cordiality; the special envoy of the republic was, however,
arrested, with his companions, and delivered by the general into the
hands of the Austrians.
'_Nov. 18-23._--I have been to a great supper at Count Schulenberg's.
As usual, I saw Beurnonville, who was very attentive. He looks like an
immense cart-horse, put by mistake in the finest caparisons; his
figure is colossal and ungainly; and his uniform of blue and gold,
which appears too large even for his large person, is half covered
with the broadest gold lace. His _ton_ is that of a _corps-de-garde_
(he was really a corporal), but when he addresses himself to women,
he affects a softness and _légèreté_, which reminds one exactly of the
"Ass and the Spaniel," and his compliments are very much in the style
of M. Jourdain. It is said, however, he is benevolent and
well-meaning.
[Illustration]
'_Nov. 30._--Supped at Mad. Angeström's, wife of the Swedish Minister,
who is perfectly indifferent to all the interests of Europe, provided
nothing interrupts her reception of the Paris fashions, for which she
has an uncommon avidity. "_N'est-ce pas, ma chère, que ceci est
charmant? C'est copié fidèlement d'un journal de Paris, et quel
journal délicieux!_"
[Illustration]
'She wears very little covering on her person, and none on her arms of
any kind (shifts being long exploded), except sleeves of the finest
cambric, unlined and _travaillé au jour_, which reach only half way
from the shoulder to the elbow. She seems to consider it a duty to
shiver in this thin attire, for she said to Lady Carysfort, "_Ah,
Milédi, que vous êtes heureuse, vous portez des poches et des jupes!_"
I conversed chiefly with Beurnonville and Pignatelli. Beurnonville
says, "_Mon secrétaire est pour les affaires, mon aide-de-camp pour
les dames, et moi pour la représentation._" The people about him are
conscious he is _peu de chose_, but say, "_Qu'importe? on est si bon
en Prusse, et si bien disposé pour nous._" A person asked Vaudreuil,
aide-de-camp to Beurnonville, if the latter was a _ci-devant_. "_Non,"
dit-il, "mais il voudroit l'être_"--a reply of a good deal of
_finesse_, and plainly proving how unconquerable the respect for rank,
and wish among those who have destroyed the substance to possess the
shadow.'
FOOTNOTES:
[2] The Right Hon. Hugh Elliot, brother to Lord Minto, at that date
English Minister at Dresden; he was afterwards made Governor of
Madras.
[3] _Marcus Flaminius; or, Life of the Romans, 1795._
CHAPTER VI.
Thackeray's Predilections for Art -- A Student in Paris -- First
Steps in the Career -- An Art Critic -- Introduction to Marvy's
English Landscape Painters -- Early Connection with Literature --
Michael Angelo Titmarsh, a contributor to 'Fraser's Magazine' --
French Caricature under Louis Philippe -- Political Satires -- A
Young Artist's life in Paris -- Growing Sympathy with Literature.
The Weimar reminiscences show how early Thackeray's passion for art
had developed itself. One who knew him well affirms that he was
originally intended for the Bar; but he had, indeed, already
determined to be an artist, and for a considerable period he
diligently followed his bent. He visited Rome, where he stayed some
time, and subsequently, as we shall see, settled for some time in
Paris, 'where,' says a writer in the 'Edinburgh Review' for January
1848, 'we well remember, ten or twelve years ago, finding him, day
after day, engaged in copying pictures in the Louvre, in order to
qualify himself for his intended profession. It may be doubted,
however,' adds this writer, 'whether any degree of assiduity would
have enabled him to excel in the money-making branches, for his talent
was altogether of the Hogarth kind, and was principally remarkable in
the pen-and-ink sketches of character and situation which he dashed
off for the amusement of his friends.' This is just criticism; but
Thackeray, though caring little himself for the graces of good drawing
or correct anatomy, had a keen appreciation of the beauties of
contemporary artists. Years after--in 1848--when, as he says, the
revolutionary storm which raged in France 'drove many peaceful
artists, as well as kings, ministers, tribunes, and socialists of
state for refuge to our country,' an artist friend of his early Paris
life found his way to Thackeray's home in London. This was Monsieur
Louis Marvy, in whose _atelier_ the former had passed many happy
hours with the family of the French artist--in that constant
cheerfulness and sunshine, as his English friend expressed it, which
the Parisian was now obliged to exchange for a dingy parlour and the
fog and solitude of London. A fine and skilful landscape-painter
himself, M. Marvy, while here, as a means of earning a living, made a
series of engravings after the works of our English landscape-painters.
For some of these his friend obtained for M. Marvy permission to take
copies in the valuable private collection of Mr. Thomas Baring. The
publishers, however, would not undertake the work without a series of
letter-press notices of each picture from Mr. Thackeray; and the
latter accordingly added some criticisms which are interesting as
developing his theory of this kind of art. The artists whose works are
engraved are Calcott, Turner, Holland, Danby, Creswick, Collins,
Redgrave, Lee, Cattermole, W. J. Müller, Harding, Nasmyth, Wilson, E.
W. Cooke, Constable, De Wint, and Gainsborough.
[Illustration]
It was, we believe, in 1834, and while residing for a short period in
Albion Street, Hyde Park, the residence of his mother and her second
husband, Major Carmichael Smyth, that Mr. Thackeray began his literary
career as a contributor to 'Fraser's Magazine.' The pseudonyms of
'Michael Angelo Titmarsh,' 'Fitz Boodle,' 'Yellowplush,' or 'Lancelot
Wagstaff,' under which he afterwards amused the readers of the
periodicals, had not then been thought of. His early papers related
chiefly to the Fine Arts; but most of them had some reference to his
French experiences. He seems to have had a peculiar fancy for Paris,
where he resided, with brief intervals, for some years after coming of
age, and where most of his magazine papers were written.
[Illustration: The Two-penny Post-bag]
[Illustration: LE DECES POIRE]
The drawing on p. 117 represents the despair (_désespoir_) of the
Orleans family at the threatened political decease (_décès_) of Louis
Philippe, familiar to Parisians as the 'Pear' (_Poire_), from the
well-known resemblance established by the caricaturists between the
shape and appearance of the king's head and a Burgundy pear. Thackeray
resided in Paris during the contests of the king with the
caricaturists (under the banner of Phillipon), and he was much
impressed by their wit and artistic power. If the reader will turn to
the 'Paris Sketch Book,' he will see Mr. Thackeray's own words upon
the subject.
[Illustration: Under the Second Empire]
We may state, for the assistance of the reader unacquainted with the
French caricatures of that period, that the figure to the right with
an elongated nose is M. d'Argout; the gentleman at the foot of the
bed, astride a huge squirt (the supposed favourite implement with
every French physician), is Marshal Lobau. Queen Marie Amélie, the Duc
d'Orléans, and other members of the royal family, are in the
background.
[Illustration]
One of Thackeray's literary associates has given some amusing
particulars of his Paris life, and his subsequent interest in the
city, where he had many friends and was known to a wide circle of
readers. 'He lived,' says this writer, 'in Paris "over the water," and
it is not long since, in strolling about the Latin Quarter with the
best of companions, that we visited his lodgings, Thackeray inquiring
after those who were already forgotten--unknown. Those who may wish to
learn his early Parisian life and associations should turn to the
story of "Philip on his Way through the World." Many incidents in that
narrative are reminiscences of his own youthful literary struggles
whilst living modestly in this city. Latterly, fortune and fame
enabled the author of "Vanity Fair" to visit imperial Paris in
imperial style, and Mr. Thackeray put up generally at the Hôtel de
Bristol, in the Place Vendôme. Never was increase of fortune more
gracefully worn or more generously employed. The struggling artist and
small man of letters, whom he was sure to find at home or abroad, was
pretty safe to be assisted if he learned their wants. I know of many
a kind act. One morning, on entering Mr. Thackeray's bedroom in Paris,
I found him placing some napoleons in a pill-box, on the lid of which
was written, "One to be taken occasionally." "What are you doing?"
said I. "Well," he replied, "there is an old person here who says she
is very ill and in distress, and I strongly suspect that this is the
sort of medicine she wants. Dr. Thackeray intends to leave it with her
himself. Let us walk out together."[4] Thackeray used to say that he
came to Paris for a holiday and to revive his recollections of French
cooking. But he generally worked here, especially when editing the
"Cornhill Magazine."'[5]
[Illustration: The political Morgiana]
[Illustration: One of the ornaments of Paris]
Thackeray's affection for Paris, however, appears to have been founded
upon no relish for the gaieties of the French metropolis, and
certainly not upon any liking for French institutions. His papers on
this subject are generally criticisms upon political, social, and
literary failings of the French, written in a severe spirit which
savours more of the confident judgment of youth than of the calm
spirit of the citizen of the world. The reactionary rule of Louis
Philippe, the Government of July, and the boasted Charter of 1830,
were the objects of his especial dislike; nor was he less unsparing in
his views of French morals as exemplified in their law courts, and in
the novels of such writers as Madame Dudevant. The truth is, that at
this Period Paris was, in the eyes of the art-student, simply the
Paradise of young painters. Possessed of a good fortune--said to have
amounted, on his coming of age in 1832, to 20,000_l._--the young
Englishman passed his days in the Louvre, his evenings with his French
artist acquaintances, of whom his preface to Louis Marvy's sketches
gives so pleasant a glimpse; or sometimes in his quiet lodgings in the
Quartier Latin in dashing off for some English or foreign paper his
enthusiastic notices of the Paris Exhibition, or a criticism on French
writers, or a story of French artist life, or an account of some great
_cause célèbre_ then stirring the Parisian world. This was doubtless
the happiest period of his life. In one of these papers he describes
minutely the life of the art student in Paris, and records his
impressions of it at the time.
[Illustration: A decorated artist]
[Illustration]
[Illustration: Back to the past]
The painter's trade in France, he discovers, is a good one; it is more
appreciated, respected, and even more liberally patronised than with
us. While in England there is no school but the 'Academy' open to the
young student--in those days South Kensington did not exist, and our
artists are not accustomed to grant young beginners admission to their
studios at pleasure, as has long been the practice abroad--in France
excellent schools abound, where, under the eye of a practised master,
a young man can learn the rudiments of his art for about ten pounds a
year, including all kinds of accessory instruction, models, &c.; while
he can, out of doors, obtain all sorts of incentives to study for
'just nothing at all.'
The life of the young artist in France, we are told, is the merriest,
most slovenly existence possible. He comes to Paris with some forty
pounds a year settled on him to keep him and pay all his expenses. He
lives in a quarter where all his surroundings are of the same
order--art and artists; from morning till night, he is in an
atmosphere of painting; he arrives at his _atelier_ very early, and
often gains a good day's study before the doors of our Academy are
unbolted. He labours, without a sense of drudgery, among a score of
companions as merry and poor as himself.
[Illustration]
It is certain that Thackeray had developed a talent for writing long
before he had abandoned his intention of becoming a painter, and that
he became a contributor to magazines at a time when there was at least
no necessity for his earning a livelihood by his pen. It is probable,
therefore, that it was his success in the literary art, rather than
his failure, as has been assumed, in acquiring skill as a painter,
which gradually drew him into that career of authorship, the pecuniary
profits of which became afterwards more important to him.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] A similar story has been told of Goldsmith, which, indeed, may
have suggested the pill-box remedy in the instance in the text.
[5] Paris correspondent, _Morning Post_.
CHAPTER VII.
'Elizabeth Brownrigge: a Tale,' 1832 -- 'Comic Magazine,' 1832-4
-- 'National Standard and Literary Representative,' 1833-4 --
'Flore et Zephyr, Ballet Mythologique,' 1836 -- On the Staff of
'Fraser's Magazine' -- Early Connection with Maginn and his
Colleagues -- The Maclise Cartoon of the Fraserians --
Thackeray's _Noms de Plume_ -- Charles Yellowplush as a Reviewer
-- Skelton and his 'Anatomy of Conduct' -- Thackeray's Proposal
to Dickens to illustrate his Novels -- Gradual Growth of
Thackeray's Notoriety -- His genial Admiration for 'Boz' --
Christmas Books and Dickens' 'Christmas Carol' -- Return to Paris
-- Execution of Fieschi and Lacénaire -- Daily Newspaper Venture
-- The 'Constitutional' and 'Public Ledger' -- Thackeray as Paris
Correspondent -- Dying Speech of the 'Constitutional' --
Thackeray's Marriage -- Increased Application to Literature --
The 'Shabby Genteel Story' -- Thackeray's Article in the
'Westminster' on George Cruikshank -- First Collected Writings --
The 'Paris Sketch Book' -- Dedication to M. Aretz -- 'Comic Tales
and Sketches,' with Thackeray's original Illustrations -- The
'Yellowplush Papers' -- The 'Second Funeral of Napoleon,' with
the 'Chronicle of the Drum' -- 'The History of Samuel Titmarsh
and the great Hoggarty Diamond' -- 'Fitzboodle's Confessions' --
'The Irish Sketch Book,' with the Author's Illustrations -- 'The
Luck of Barry Lyndon' -- Contributions to the 'Examiner' --
Miscellanies -- 'Carmen Lilliense' -- 'Notes of a Journey from
Cornhill to Grand Cairo,' with the Author's Illustrations --
Interest excited in Titmarsh -- Foundation of 'Punch' --
Thackeray's Contributions -- His comic Designs -- 'The Fat
Contributor' -- 'Jeames's Diary.'
Before proceeding to the well-known productions from the pen of our
great novelist, which are familiar enough to all, it may interest the
reader to glance at his juvenile efforts in literature and art. It
will be found that we dwell more minutely upon the consideration of
these early sketches than is absolutely warranted by their importance
in comparison with his great works; but we are tempted to enlarge on
the papers which illustrate the outset of the author's career, under
the conviction that they are but little known to the majority of his
admirers.
We have already noticed Thackeray's characteristic hand in the pages
of 'The Snob,' where his native skill in parody was first evidenced in
print. We have incidentally cited the satirical force of his observant
powers at the age of twenty and during his residence in Germany;
though, it must be confessed, these early impressions may owe much of
their strength to the training he had gone through during the interval
between the time he actually spent in the scenes described, and the
period at which the sketches were first given to the public.
From the date of its establishment the columns of 'Fraser' abound in
sly satires directed against the school of fiction which then happened
to find favour with the romance-reading public. Ainsworth and Bulwer
had made daring experiments with new and startling materials for
exciting the imagination of their believers; and the encouragement
held out by the unequivocal success of the unwholesome order of novels
was sufficient to excite the wrath of those writers and critics who
strove to lead the popular taste back to healthier literature.
Thackeray's keen appreciation of the genuine humour of Fielding,
Scott, and similar authors, who founded the interest of their stories
on such sounder principles as were dictated by intelligent study of
human nature, and who mainly relied for their incidents on the
probable occurrences, the actions and passions, of actual life, was
sufficient to qualify him as a subtle opponent of the unnatural style;
and he appears to have early enlisted his pen on the side of the
Fraserians, who were, perhaps, the bitterest antagonists which the
apostles of these unlikely anomalies were fated to encounter in the
development of their novel theories.
In the August and September numbers of 'Fraser' for 1832 appeared the
forerunner of those burlesque romances for which Thackeray's name
became afterwards famous. The sketch was published when the budding
satirist was little over twenty-one years of age; and the just and
scarifying criticism which it contains is sufficiently remarkable in
so youthful a writer. But there is the strongest internal evidence
that the travestie of 'Elizabeth Brownrigge: a Tale,' proceeds from
the author who afterwards narrated the 'Story of Catharine;' who
interrupted the early chapters of 'Vanity Fair' to introduce certain
felicitous parodies; and who, in the pages of 'Punch,' produced the
irresistible series of 'Prize Novelists' which remain unsurpassed.
'Elizabeth Brownrigge' was dedicated to the author of 'Eugene Aram;'
and its writer described himself as a young man who had for a length
of time applied himself to literature, but had hitherto entirely
failed to derive any emolument from his exertions. His tragedies,
comedies, operas and farces, his novels, poems, and romances, had
already accumulated into an alarming pile of unacceptable and
unprofitable MSS. On examining the grounds of their refusal, he was
surprised to find one identical phrase occurring in every letter
rejecting his talented productions: the poems are all pronounced
'classical, pure in taste, and perfect in diction;' the novels are
acknowledged to be 'just in character, interesting in plot, pathetic,
unexceptionable in sentiment;' but unhappily they have all one glaring
defect in common--they are '_not of a popular description_.'
Enlightened by the reflection that those who write to live must write
to please, he determined to master the popular taste; the otherwise
faultless papers were put by until fashions should change in the
reading world; and his laundress was sent to the circulating library
for the last most popular novel--the author, disappointed but not
discouraged, being resolved to study its style and manner, investigate
the principles on which it was written, to imbibe its spirit, and to
compose his next new work as nearly as possible upon the same model.
The popular novel brought was 'Eugene Aram.'
From its pages the hitherto unsuccessful writer caught a complete
solution of the errors and defects of his former productions. From the
frequent perusal of older works of imagination, he had learned the
unfashionable practice of endeavouring so to weave the incidents of
his stories as to interest his readers in favour of virtue and to
increase their detestation of vice. By the study of 'Eugene Aram' he
was taught to mix vice and virtue up together in such an inextricable
confusion as to render it impossible that any preference should be
given to either, or that one, indeed, should be at all distinguishable
from the other.
'I am inclined,' continues the writer, in his dedication, 'to regard
the author of "Eugene Aram" as an original discoverer in the world of
literary enterprise, and to reverence him as the father of a new
_lusus naturæ_ school.' There is no other title by which his manner
could be so aptly designated. Being in search of a tender-hearted,
generous, sentimental, high-minded hero of romance, he turned to the
'Newgate Calendar,' and looked for him in the list of men who have cut
throats for money, among whom a person in possession of such qualities
could never have been met with at all.
'In "Elizabeth Brownrigge" it will be the author's sole ambition to
impart to his efforts some portion of the intense interest that
distinguishes the works of Mr. Bulwer, and to acquire the fame which
the skilful imitation of so great a master may hope to receive from
the generosity of an enlightened and delighted public. In taking his
subject from that walk of life to which "Eugene Aram" had directed his
attention, many motives conspired to fix the writer's choice on the
heroine of the ensuing tale: she is a classic personage--her name has
been already "linked to immortal verse" by the muse of Canning.
Besides, it is extraordinary that, as Mr. Bulwer had commenced a
tragedy under the title of "Eugene Aram," the dedicator had already
sketched a burletta with the title of "Elizabeth Brownrigge." In his
dramatic piece he had indeed been guilty of an egregious and
unpardonable error: he had attempted to excite the sympathies of his
audience in favour of the murdered apprentices; but the study of Mr.
Bulwer disabused him of so vulgar a prejudice, and, in the present
version of her case, all the interest of the reader and all the
pathetic powers of the author will be engaged on the side of the
murderess. He has taken a few slight liberties with the story, but
such alterations have the sanction of Bulwer's example and the
recommendation of his authority. As he has omitted any mention of the
wife of his Eugene, his imitator has not thought it necessary to
recall the reader's attention to the husband and sixteen children of
his Elizabeth. As the hero of "Eugene Aram" is endowed with more
learning and virtue than he possessed, and is converted from the usher
of a grammar school at Hayes into the solitary student of a lone and
romantic tower in a distant county; the author of "Elizabeth" presumed
to raise the situation of his heroine, and, instead of portraying her
as the wife of a saddler in Fleur-de-lis Court, and midwife of the
poor-house, he has represented her in his tale as a young gentlewoman
of independent fortune, a paragon of beauty, a severe and learned
moral philosopher, and the Lady Bountiful of the village of
Islington.'
The first book opens with a sample of the MS. Burletta: the contents
of chapter i. are sufficiently descriptive of the spirit of the
whole--_Islington: the Red Cabbage_ (so called from a very imperfect
representation of a red rose on its sign-board)--_Specimen of Lusus
Naturæ_--_Philosophers of the Porch_--_Who is she?_
According to a richly worked out principle of opposites, this droll
conception proceeds with incidents and even names taken directly from
the 'Newgate Calendar,' but rivalling 'Eugene Aram' itself in
magnificence of diction, absurdity of sentiment, and pomp of Greek
quotation. The trial scene and Elizabeth's speech in her own defence
abound in clever points--indeed, the humour of the whole composition
is original and striking; although the later burlesques from
presumably the same hand have made us familiar with similar features
brought to maturity.
During the intervals of his residence in London--for Paris may be
considered to have been almost his head-quarters at this
period--Thackeray had made the acquaintance of most of the brilliant
writers and rising artists of the day. It is certain that before he
became popularly known as a contributor to 'Fraser,' where his papers
contributed in no inconsiderable degree to the success of the
magazine, he was concerned in more than one literary venture. Between
1832 and 1834 appeared a small miscellany, the 'Comic Magazine,' now
tolerably obscure: in its duodecimo pages may be found the writings of
several authors whose names have since become famous. It was profusely
illustrated: the major part of the cuts, some of them of particular
excellence, were by the hand of the gifted and unfortunate Seymour. It
seems that Thackeray was to some extent interested in this
publication, to which he probably supplied both drawings and verses;
although, at this date, it is difficult to distinguish his individual
contributions, especially as they happen to be less characteristic
than the average of his works; the cuts, although full of fun, having
suffered from the necessity of reducing the cost of engraving, as the
expenses of the publication became onerous.
There existed in 1833 a critical journal, 'devoted to literature,
science, music, theatricals, and the fine arts,' rejoicing in the
slightly high-flown title of the 'National Standard:' it was one of
the early enterprises in the way of cheap publication, and, in spite
of its name, conscientiously aimed at supplying a want that has never
yet been adequately filled up--namely, the circulation of sterling
independent criticism. We are not informed how Thackeray first became
interested in this publication, but, from the hints thrown out in his
later writings, it seems that he was induced to become, in some part,
proprietor of the venture. In his sketch of 'Mr. Adolphus Simcoe,' who
is introduced into the pages of 'Punch' (1842) as a typical ex-owner
of a miscellany, the 'Lady's Lute,' which came to a disastrous end, we
are informed that, presuming a person of literary tastes should, from
some unfortunate combination of circumstances, conceive a passion to
become the editor of a magazine, to assemble about him 'the great
spirits of the age,' and to be able to communicate his own
contributions direct to the public, a paper is sure to be for
sale--'indeed, if a gentleman has a mind to part with his money, it is
very hard if he cannot find some periodical with a broom at its
mast-head.'
In the eighteenth number of the 'National Standard' (May 4) we
recognise Thackeray's pencil in a very fair cut of Louis
Philippe--quite in the style of his contributions to 'Punch' some ten
years later. The likeness is undoubtedly good and characteristic. _Le
roi des Français_ is straddling in an undignified attitude--the fair
lily of France is trodden under one of his clumsy feet; he wears an
ill-fitting plain citizen suit; one hand is in his pocket, 'counting
his money;' the other rests on his redoubtable umbrella, the favourite
target of satirists.
In his beaver he sports the tricolor badge, 'like an overgrown
pancake,' as the verses below declare. His face wears a truculent,
soured, dissatisfied twist; 'no huzzas greet his coming,' we are
informed.
'_He stands in París as you see him before ye,
Little more than_ a snob. _There's an end of the story._'
Number 19 of the journal opens with an address of decidedly
Titmarshian turn, which tells the story of the new state of things
pretty lucidly, and with a fine flush of spirits.
Under the heading of this 'National Standard' of ours there originally
appeared the following: 'Edited by F. W. N. Bayley,[6] Esq., the late
Editor and Originator of "The National Omnibus," the first of the
cheap Publications: assisted by the most eminent Literary Men of the
Day.'
'Now we have _changé tout cela_: no, not exactly _tout cela_, for we
still retain the assistance of a host of literary talent; but
Frederick William Naylor Bayley has gone. We have got free of the Old
Bailey and changed the governor. Let it not be imagined for a moment
that we talk in the slightest disparagement of our predecessor in
office; on the contrary, we shall always continue to think him a
clever fellow, and wish him all kinds of success in the war he is
carrying on against Baron Dimsdale. He apparently has exchanged the
pen for the sword.
'Having the fear of the fate of Sir John Cam Hobhouse before our eyes,
we give no pledges, expressed or understood, as to the career which it
is our intention to run. We intend to be as free as the air. The world
of books is all before us where to choose our course. Others boast
that they are perfectly independent of all considerations extraneous
to the sheet in which they write, but none we know of reduce that
boast to practice: we therefore boast not at all. We promise nothing,
and if our readers expect nothing more, they will assuredly not be
disappointed.'
A remarkably well-executed portrait of Braham, the singer, appears in
the number. The eminent vocalist's rotund figure is dressed in
stage-nautical fashion, with a tremendously striped shirt, rolling
collar, sailor's knot, no waistcoat, jacket and short trousers, hose,
and pumps with buckles; his somewhat coarse Israelitish _caput_ is hit
off with truth and spirit; over his head is a glory formed of a
jew's-harp encircled in bays; he is before a theatrical background. A
dealer in old clo', of the singer's nationality, crowned with triple
hats, and carrying the professional bag, is introduced beneath a
feudal castle. Below the portrait is a sonorous parody of one of
Wordsworth's sonnets, attributing to Braham the 'majesty and
loveliness' by which he originally captivated the world and the ears
of Sovereign Anne, in whose benign reign, according to a footnote,
this 'Lion of Judah' 'made his first appearance in England.' The
jew's-harp, circled with blooming wreath, is seen of verdant bays; and
thus are typified--
'_The pleasant music and the baize of green,
Whence issues out at eve Braham with front serene!_'
Certain picture criticisms in the same number bear evidence of the
hand afterwards well known in the galleries of paintings.
'_Fine Arts._--_Somerset House Exhibition._--(140) Portrait of His
Majesty King William IV. in the uniform of the Grenadier Guards, by D.
Wilkie. His Majesty stands in a dun fog, and wears a pair of dirty
boots; his cocked-hat is in his hand, and his crown is in a corner.
This large picture, in spite of the great name attached to it, seems
to us a failure; Mr. Wilkie has not at all succeeded in the attempt to
give an expression of intelligence to the physiognomy of our reverend
sovereign.'
In the following week this verdict is modified; it is stated that the
late critic has been dismissed as clearly incompetent for his office.
The picture, it is acknowledged, is a good work, and it was utterly
unreasonable to expect any painter could succeed in throwing an
intelligent expression into the royal countenance.
The writer also extravagantly praises the portrait of an alderman, on
the grounds that his address at Clapham, inscribed on a letter held in
the hand of the picture, is 'painted as natural as though it had been
written.'
To No. 20, Thackeray contributed a portrait of Baron Nathan
Rothschild, in which the satirist does not flatter the 'pillar of
change.' Some verses below the woodcut are not more complimentary to
'the first Baron Juif; by the grace of his pelf, not the King of the
Jews, but the Jew of the Kings. The taste of Plutus is censured, in
that he has selected as prime favourite 'a greasy-faced compound of
donkey and pig.' After propitiating the great financier in this
fashion, the satirist leaves his subject what he vainly wishes the
Baron would leave him--'a_lone_ in his glory!'
In an appreciative review of Sarah Austin's translation of Falk's
'Characteristics of Goethe' the readers of the 'National Standard' are
admitted to a glimpse of personal reminiscences: 'The fountain
opposite Goethe's house is not particularly picturesque, and the
people who frequent it are not remarkable for their beauty. But there
are beauties disclosed to the poetic eye which the common observer
will endeavour in vain to discover; and the philosopher can make
sermons on running brooks, such as the fountain at Weimar, which, we
confess, appeared to us a most ordinary waterspout.
'Appended to the work is a portrait of its hero, which, however, does
not bear the slightest resemblance to him.'
In No. 21 occurs the first (and last) of our 'London Characters'--the
sketch of an advertising medium of Chartism; a wretched,
terror-stricken boardsman of the dispersed 'National Convention;'
bearing the legends--'No Taxes,' 'Victory or Death,' and 'Britons, be
firm!' but his placards interfere with his escape from the police by
tripping up their bearer. It is worthy of note that this cut, with
slight alterations, appeared later in the 'Comic Magazine' already
mentioned.
In No. 22 Thackeray has produced a good _croquis_ of Manager Bunn, who
is displayed with his toupee and well-brushed, heavy-jowled
mutton-cutlet whiskers, with a wig-bag seen over the shoulder of his
court coat; an elaborately embroidered satin waistcoat; 'stuck to his
side a shining sword;' 'all in his velvet breeches,' silk stockings
and buckled shoes; just as, ten years later, the 'Punch' wags were
wont to picture the 'poet Alfred.' Handsome tall candlesticks are held
in either hand: these imposing dips are sparkling with the names of
Schrœder and Malibran respectively:
'_What gallant cavalier is seen
So dainty set before the queen,
Between a pair of candles?
Who looks as smiling and as bright,
As oily and as full of light,
As is the wax he handles._'
Another cut--the person of a corpulent but dejected Cupid, his fat
feet resting on conventional clouds, while his chubby wrists and
ankles are confined in heavy irons--forms the headpiece to some easy
lines: a burlesque poem entitled 'Love in Fetters, a Tottenham Court
Road Ditty,' showing how dangerous it is for a gentleman to fall in
love with an 'Officer's Daughter,' an 'Ower True Tale.' The narrator
describes his passion for a fair Israelite, to whom he has sent a
'letter full of love;' and he is roused out of his slumbers by a
mysterious stranger, who inquires if he is the writer. The gentleman
in bed admits the fact; says the visitor, 'an answer's sent.' But
alas! 'by a parchment slip he could discern that by him stood a
bailiff stern, fair Rosamunda's sire!' and the romantic victim
dolefully concludes:--
'_I served the daughter with verse and wit,
And the father served me with a writ;
So here in iron bars I sit
In quod securely stowed,
Being captivated by a she,
Whose papa captivated me;
All at the back
Of the Tabernac
In Tottenham Court Road._'
Besides the cuts mentioned is a burlesque group of chorus-singers from
'Zauberflöte,' produced when Manager Bunn was lessee of both Covent
Garden and Drury Lane Theatres.
Sir Peter Laurie is also favoured with a portrait, sketched from his
appearance on the civic chair: spectacles, gold chain, and all
complete, surrounded with a wreath of full-blown laurels. Some punning
verses to 'Sir Peter' are inscribed with the likeness.
After this Thackeray seems to have gone back to Paris, from whence he
writes, as 'Foreign Correspondent,' in June of the same year, sending
a drawing of a brace of figures characteristic of the new and old
_régimes_.
'The costume of Jeune France is as extraordinary as its literature. I
have sent a specimen, which I discovered the other day in the
Tuileries. It had just been reading the "Tribune," and was leaning
poetically against a tree: it had on a red neckcloth and a black
flowing mane; a stick or club, intended for ornament as well as use;
and a pair of large though innocent spurs, which had never injured
anything except the pantaloons of the individual who wore them. Near
it was sitting an old gentleman, in knee-breeches and a cocked-hat,
who is generally to be seen of a sunny day in the Tuileries, reading
his Crébillon or his prayer-book: a living illustration of times
past--a strange contrast with times present!'
A week later arrives a review of the dramatic pieces then performing
at the Paris Theatres, with a sketch of Ligier in the character of
Richard in 'Les Enfants d'Édouard;' a wonderful stagey figure, not
unlike some of the theatrical souvenirs in the early part of this
volume. The sinister monarch wears the traditional ermine-bound cloak,
with a fierce feather in his hat; he sports trunks (on the left knee
is the order of the garter) and pointed shoes; his right hand grasps a
dagger; his lank locks are turned over his ears, giving his face a
sufficiently ruffianly character, which is intensified by a scowling
eye, and a set mouth in Kean's best manner.
The young artist also paid a visit to some savages, the 'Charruas,'
South American Indians, who were then lionising in Paris. The
correspondent sends his readers a translation of an extravagant
article of the flowery order, written by Jules Janin, under the
inspiration of having been to see the noble aborigines, concerning
whom the English journalist romantically adds, 'They play cards all
day, laugh, eat raw beef, and drink all they can get.'
In the July following it was determined by the French ministry to
throw a sop to popularity by crowning the column in the Place Vendôme
with the new statue of Napoleon--the very figure which has since known
such vicissitudes. Their Paris correspondent sent the 'National
Standard' a sketch of the figure of the Emperor; and in the same
number occurs a spirited article, describing the first interview of
the statue with his gallant countrymen.
'The Little Corporal, in his habit of war, puts his bronze glass to
his bronze eye, and after some usual preliminaries, proceeds to
address _la grande nation_: "I thank you for having placed me in a
situation so safe, so commanding, and so salubrious: from this
elevation I can look on most parts of your city. I see the churches
empty, the prisons crowded, the gambling-houses overflowing. Who, with
such sights before him as these, gentlemen, and you, would not be
proud of the name of Frenchmen?" (Great cheers.) "I apprehend that the
fat man with the umbrella, whom I see walking in the gardens of the
Tuileries, is the present proprietor. May I ask what he has done to
deserve such a reward from you? Does he found his claim on his own
merits, or on those of his father?" (A tremendous row in the crowd;
the police proceed to _empoigner_ several hundred individuals.) "Go
your ways" (said the statue, who was what is vulgarly called a dab at
an _impromptu_), "go your ways, happy Frenchmen! You have fought, you
have struggled, you have conquered: for whom? for the fat man with the
umbrella!"' The Emperor, in continuation of his speech, observes: 'I
perceive by your silence that his words carry conviction;' when he
stops to make the discovery that there is not a single person left in
the Place Vendôme, his entire audience having been carried off by the
police.
Later on, the journal seems to languish; the portraits still occur at
intervals. Mr. Crockford, of gaming reputation, was flattered with a
cut of his effigy, just about the time a paper-raid was raised against
the 'play-hells' in the sweeping columns of 'Fraser;' 'Crock' is
complimented with some lines, 'more free than welcome,' alluding to
'his eye of a whiting, and mouth of a cod,' and referring to his old
trade of fishmonger; the lines, which are signed L. E. U., add, 'he
now sticks to poultry, to pigeons, and rooks.'
'_Yet he still makes a cast, and not seldom a haul,
Still angles for flats, and still nets what he can,
And shows, every night, 'mid his shoal great and small,
The trick how a gudgeon is made of a man._'
It is presumable that the Paris correspondent did not abandon his
paper; he sends more cuts, and foreign letters from all parts, full of
the most interesting private intelligence; and notably one from
'Constantinople,' supplying an imaginative gossiping exposure of all
the complicated intrigues discernible to those who may be behind the
scenes at the Porte; and last, but by no means least, he sends them
one of the capital stories which he afterwards reprinted, with fresh
illustrations, in the 'Paris Sketch Book,'--even the 'Devil's Wager,'
with a strikingly original sketch of Sir Rollo in his desperate
travels to redeem his soul, borne through the clouds with, for greater
security, the tail of Mercurius unpleasantly curled round the
apoplectic throttle of his deceased highness the late Count of
Chauchigny, &c. &c. The moral of this veracious tale was promised 'in
several successive numbers;' but the wonderful story and its excellent
illustration, superior we fancy to those in the collected series, were
ineffectual to establish the success of the 'National Standard,' on
which they were partially thrown away.
A flourishing and facetious leader, in the thirty-sixth number, placed
the circulation at the astonishing figures of 84,715; and particularly
advertised that the price, in spite of the unprecedented arrangements
that had been perfected for rendering their paper the leading feature
of the age, would continue 'only twopence.' A few numbers later it was
confessed that the journal would henceforth appear at threepence, as
it was found impossible to successfully carry out all their great
programme of improvements at a lesser price. Thackeray's contributions
after this are either missing, or his spirits were possibly dashed by
the pecuniary responsibilities of the undertaking. After a time the
'National Standard' was forced to haul down its colours: it lasted
from January 5, 1833, to February 1, 1834, when it not improbably left
a neat train of liabilities for at least one of its contributaries to
discharge. It is certain that its failure entailed disagreeable
consequences.
We all remember that Mr. Adolphus Simcoe's little fortune went down in
the 'Lady's Lute,' while its versatile proprietor completed his misery
in Her Majesty's Asylum of the Fleet.
Still fresher must it be in the minds of Thackeray's readers, that the
narrator of 'Lovel the Widower,' in the character of Mr. Batchelor,
relates how, having these same literary aspirations, and a certain
command of ready money withal, he too was persuaded that to be part
proprietor of a periodical was rather a fine thing. It may not be
forgotten that in his first venture, coming to London, blushing with
his college experiences, he had emulated the bargain of Moses
Primrose, and the memorable gross of spectacles in shagreen cases. A
college acquaintance, with a smooth tongue, and sleek, sanctified
exterior, and a queer bill-discounter (no one indeed but our old
friends, the Rev. C. Honeyman, M.A., and Mr. Sherrick, wine-merchant,
&c., to whom we were early introduced in the 'Newcomes'), had somehow
got hold of that neat literary paper the 'Museum,' of which eligible
property this innocent gentleman became the purchaser.
The failure of the 'National Standard and Literary Representative'
seems for a time to have damped Thackeray's enthusiasm so far as fresh
adventures on his own account were concerned; but in the March of 1836
his first attempt at independent authorship appeared simultaneously in
London and Paris.
'This publication,' it was observed in the 'North British Review,'
shortly after the humourist's death, 'at the time when he still hoped
to make his bread by art, is, like indeed everything he either said or
did, perfectly characteristic;' and it has been so utterly forgotten
that we are encouraged to describe the plates _seriatim_. We may add
that it was published in Paris by Ritter and Goupil, and by Mitchell
in London; though it is now so scarce that we were unsuccessful in
tracing a copy in the Catalogue of the British Museum.
It is a small folio, in a tinted wrapper, and consists of nine
subjects in all, which are printed on India paper. Like all
Thackeray's satires, his fun is directed to a purpose; and by the very
realism of his pencil he successfully turns to ridicule one of his pet
aversions--the dancing man, so frequently assailed in his writings.
The series bears the title of 'Flore et Zephyr, Ballet Mythologique,
par Théophile Wagstaff,' and is dedicated to Flora, who herself
figures in place of her name upon the cover. In a rose-bedizened stage
bower, where the foliage is evidently cut out by the stage-carpenter,
stands the exquisite _première danseuse_, looking as ancient,
self-satisfied, and repulsive as some of these heroines occasionally
appear. She is all alone in the centre of the stage, but the old faded
smirk and the eyelids modestly drooped express her consciousness that
she is the object of attraction to a full house. Her fascinating smile
is tempered with the air of bashful modesty, conveyed by crossing her
bony and sinewy arms and large hands upon her lean chest; her throat
is particularly camel-like, and the muscles are unmistakably
prominent; her nose is long, and has a pendulous droop, which divides,
by its shadow, her ample semicircular mouth, and gives an effect of
sentimental absurdity; a blonde wreath of ample dimensions and
indefinite design surrounds her raven locks; a few straggling hairs
are in places plastered on her forehead in unpremeditated love-locks;
her dress, of simple uncreased muslin, stands out like a white tulip,
and is carelessly girt by a wreath of flowers. Beneath the skirts
appear her professional legs, arranged of course in an attitude
perfectly at variance with nature or grace, the heels touching, and
the long white feet pointing to precisely opposite poles of the
compass. In maiden meditation, she is sighing for her Zephyr before
some thousand eyes, the focus of all the double-barrelled lorgnettes
in the theatre.
In the following plate, _La Danse fait ses offrandes sur l'autel de
l'Harmonie_, the faithful Zephyr has come to rejoin his Flora; and the
happy pair trip down the footlights, set smiles on their faces, with
gracious gestures of salutation, to propitiate the unseen but
perfectly understood 'house.' As to the Altar of Harmony, their backs
are turned on the supposed object of their offerings--represented by a
pile of musical instruments mounted on a pillar, and topped by a
laurel-wreathed fiddle, the expression of which ('the face of a
fiddle') wears a dreary resemblance to a dolefully-long human
countenance. Zephyr is as remarkable as his fair companion: his face
is, if possible, more faded, his smile more set and weary; you feel
that his perpetual grin is the grimmest sight in the world, and that
no effort of his livid face could express a natural smile. He too
sports a huge pair of impossibly arched eyebrows, beneath which the
heavy lids droop with a worn-out look which is certainly unaffected.
His wig, you recognise, is no part of himself, although much of his
expression is conferred by it: it is a tremendous erection, of
obviously artificial construction, and sufficiently portentous to make
its _début_ alone. This gentleman's nose is large and pear-shaped; his
mouth and lips large and coarse; and his Hebrew descent is
sufficiently characterised. He is clad in a simple tunic; his naked
arms are strongly developed and ugly; his legs are large, and the
muscles stand out with the prominence observable in members of his
profession: his shoulders, of course, are tipped with gauzy wings.
The third plate, _Jeux innocens de Zéphyr et Flore_, introduces us to
the altar of Cupid--a sweet little deity in plaster, who is drawing
his stringless bow, and aiming an imaginary arrow (the shaft is
wanting) at the tripping and artless Flora, who, with outstretched
hands, is guarding her tender bosom; meanwhile it is only
pantomimically she is conscious of Cupid's aims; her eyes are riveted
on the audience. Zephyr is ogling up behind the altar, his frightful
smile more set than ever, his wig more independent of himself, his
graces more fantastic; he is advancing, with one foot pointed about a
yard or so in advance of its fellow, anxious to bind the fair sharer
in these simple diversions in a wreath of stage-flowers.
In the next plate _Flora is deploring the absence of her Zephyr_, who
has left her an opportunity to execute a _pas seul_. We are presented
with the back of the engaging _coryphée_: she is balanced on one foot;
the left is raised at an angle of considerably over forty-five
degrees--a touching and perfectly natural method of expressing her
disconsolate situation.
In this drawing we are favoured with a view of the front of the
'house;' the faces of the men in the orchestra are treated
expressively. One musician's eye is peculiarly roguish, while another
performer is endeavouring to combine business with pleasure; to play
his flageolet, follow his score, and yet not lose sight of the
deploring one.
Zephyr's turn for individual display occurs in the next plate. _Dans
un pas seul il exprime son extrême désespoir_; and accordingly,
without in any degree altering the cast of the mask of a face he
wears, he proceeds to express the intensity of his desolation, by
convincing the audience of the strength and activity of his lower
members, in a succession of horizontal bounds which give him the
aspect of a flying man. In the corner of the picture a Cupid--a
plump-faced little boy, decked out as Cupid--and his elder sister (the
likeness between the pair is evidently intentional) are opening their
eyes and mouths with stupid astonishment at Zephyr's grief-inspired
agility.
Fresh actresses arrive on the scene.
Zephyr has struck a stage attitude expressing the unconsolable state
of his affections; his legs crossed, and one arm resting on the now
vacant pedestal. _Triste et abattu, les séductions des Nymphes le
tentent en vain._ The ladies of the ballet flit vainly around him, his
eyes are cast down; even the fascinations which are held out by a
clumsy theatrical lyre, held in a melting _pose_ by one fair creature
reposing on one knee, are insufficient to tempt him to forget the
charms of the absent.
Such fidelity can be only recompensed by the '_Reconciliation of Flora
and Zephyr_,' which is displayed in the succeeding plate. The
triumphant Zephyr, his smile, if possible, expressing less meaning
than usual, is now kneeling; his arms are folded, and his head is
supported at an angle by a rigid throat--for he has a weight to
sustain. The faithful Flora has bounded into his arms; and, in the
picture, the last triumphant tableau is before the audience. One foot
of the _danseuse_ lightly rests on Zephyr's outstretched thigh, the
other is on a level with her shoulder; her arms are gracefully clasped
around her companion, to preserve her balance, and her head and throat
are also at a studied angle, for the sake of the equilibrium of the
group. On this rapturous scene of fidelity rewarded with boundless
happiness the curtain descends; but we have not seen the last of the
performers.
In, presumably, the Green Room we witness '_The Retreat of Flora_.'
The fair creature, who is in every way decidedly French, is there with
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