"Oliver Twist," 1837, vol. i. ch. xii."Oliver Twist," 1837, vol. i. ch. xii.
"Hard Times," 1854, vol. i. ch. i."Hard Times," 1854, vol. i. ch. i.
"David Copperfield," 1850 (corrected proof), ch. xiv."David Copperfield," 1850 (corrected proof), ch. xiv.
"Edwin Drood," 1870, ch. xxiii. p. 189 (last MS. page)."Edwin Drood," 1870, ch. xxiii. p. 189 (last MS. page).
Transcriber's Note:Clicking on the images of the facsimilies in smaller print will show a larger edition of the same image.
A proof of the fourteenth Chapter ofDavid Copperfield, 1850, shows that the allusion to "King Charles the First's head"—about which Mr. Dick was so much troubled—wasnotcontained in the first draft of the story, for the passage originally had reference to "the date when that bull got into the china warehouse and did so much mischief." The subsequent reference to King Charles's head was a happy thought of Dickens, and furthered Mr. Dick's idea of the mistake "of putting some of the trouble out of King Charles's head" into his own.
Mr. R. F. Sketchley, the able and courteous custodian of the collection, allows us to see some of the other rarities in the museum not displayed in the cabinet—prefaces, dedications, and memoranda relating to the novels; letters addressed by Dickens to Forster, Maclise, and others; rare play-bills; and the originals of invitations to the public dinner and ball at New York, which Dickens received on the occasion of his first visit to America in 1842. After turning these over with reverential care, we regretfully leave behind us one of the most interesting and important literary collections ever presented to the Nation.
We next visit the Prerogative Registry of the United Kingdom at Somerset House, wherein is filed the original Will of Charles Dickens. The search for this interesting document pursued by a stranger under pressure of time, strongly reminds one of the "Circumlocution Office" so graphically described inBleak House. But we are enthusiastic, and at length obtain a clue to it in a folio volume (Letter D), containing the names of testators who died in the year 1870, where the Will is briefly recorded (at number 468) as that of "Dickens, Charles, otherwise Charles John Huffham, Esquire." We pay our fees, and take our seats in thereading-room, when the original is presently placed in our hands. It is one of a series of three documents fastened together by a bit of green silk cord, and secured by the seal of the office, as is customary when there are two or more papers filed. The first document is the Will itself, dated 12th May, 1869, written throughout by the novelist very plainly and closely in the characteristic blue ink on a medium sheet of faint blue quarto letter paper, having the usual legal folded margin, and exactly covering the four pages. It is free from corrections, and is signed, "Charles Dickens," under which is the never-to-be-mistaken flourish. The testatum is signed by G. Holsworth, 26 Wellington Street, Strand, and Henry Walker, 26 Wellington Street, Strand, which points to the fact that the Will was written and executed at the office ofAll the Year Round. He appoints "Georgina Hogarth and John Forster executrix and executor, and guardians of the persons of my children during their respective minorities."
The second document is the Oath of John Forster, testifying that Charles Dickens, otherwise Charles John Huffham Dickens, is one and the same person. The third document is a Codicil dated 2nd June, 1870 (only a week before his death), in which the novelist bequeaths "to my son Charles Dickens, the younger, all my share and interest in the weekly journal calledAll the Year Round." The Codicil is witnessed by the same persons. The Will and Codicil are both given in extenso in vol. iii. of Forster'sLife—the gross amount of the real and personal estate being calculated at £93,000.[38]
* * * * * *
A very short tramp from Somerset House brings us to the last object of our pilgrimage—the grave of Charles Dickens in Westminster Abbey. Surely no admirer of his genius can omit this final mark of honour to the memory of the mighty dead. Many years have rolled by since "the good, the gentle, highly gifted, ever friendly, noble Dickens" passed away; and we stand by the grave in the calm September evening, with "jewels cast upon the pavement of the nave from stained glass by the declining sun," and look down at the dark flat stone lying at our feet, on which is inscribed "in plain English letters," the simple record:—
CHARLES DICKENS,BORN FEBRUARY THE SEVENTH, 1812.DIED JUNE THE NINTH, 1870.
We recall with profoundly sympathetic interest that quietly impressive ceremony as recorded by Forster in the final pages of his able biography. "Before mid-day on Tuesday, the 14th June, 1870, with knowledge of those only who took part in the burial, all was done. The solemnity had not lost by the simplicity. Nothing so grand or so touching could have accompanied it, as the stillness and the silence of the vast Cathedral." And he further describes the wonderful gathering subsequently:—"Then later in the day, and all the following day, came unbidden mourners in such crowds that the Dean had to request permission to keep open the grave until Thursday; but after it was closed they did not cease to come, and all day long." Dean Stanley wrote:—"On the 17th there was a constant pressure to the spot, and manyflowers were strewn upon it by unknown hands, many tears shed from unknown eyes."
What poet, what philosopher, what monarch even, might not envy this loving tribute to the influence of the great writer, to the personal respect for the man, and to the affection for the friend who, by the sterling nature of his work for nearly thirty-five years, had the power to create and sustain such sympathy?
Forster thus admiringly concludes the memoir of his hero:
"The highest associations of both the arts he loved surround him where he lies. Next to him is Richard Cumberland. Mrs. Pritchard's monument looks down upon him, and immediately behind is David Garrick's. Nor is the actor's delightful art more worthily represented than the nobler genius of the author. Facing the grave, and on its left and right, are the monuments of Chaucer, Shakespeare, and Dryden, the three immortals who did most to create and settle the language to which Charles Dickens has given another undying name."
"Of making many books there is no end," said the wise man of old; and certainly, if we may estimate the popularity of Charles Dickens by the works of all kinds relating to him, written since his death, the number may be counted by hundreds. It may also be said that probably no other English writer save Shakespeare has been the cause of so much posthumous literature. The sayings of his characters permeate our everyday life, and they continue to be as fresh as when they were first recorded. The original editions of his writings in some cases realize high prices which are simply amazing, and—judging by statistics—his readers are as numerous as ever they were. Higher testimony to the worth"of the most popular novelist of the century, and one of the greatest humourists that England has produced," and to the continued interest which the reading public still evince in the minutest detail relating to him and to his books, can scarcely be uttered; but what is better still—"his sympathies were generally on the right side;"—he has left an example that all may follow;—he did his utmost to leave the world a little better than he found it;—as he said by one of his characters, "the best of men can do no more"—and now he peacefully rests as one
"Of those immortal dead who live againIn minds made better by their presence."
Tailpiece: "Pathos"
We—my fellow-tramp and I—naturally feel a pang of regret now that our pleasant visit to "Dickens-Land" is terminated. With a parting grasp of the hand I express to the companion of my travels a cordial wish that ere long we may, "please God," renew our delightful experience, and again go over the ground hallowed by Dickens associations; to which my friend, as cordially assenting, replies "surely, surely!"
With these two favourite expressions of Charles Dickens (quoted above) I conclude the book, trusting that it will prove worthy of some kindly appreciation at the hands of my readers.