by Dickens
The new Christmas story was advertised in All The Year Round in November 1865:
‘On the 7th of December will be published THE EXTRA
CHRISTMAS DOUBLE NUMBER, entitled
DOCTOR MARIGOLD’S PRESCRIPTIONS.
I. TO BE TAKEN IMMEDIATELY.
II. NOT TO BE TAKEN AT BED-TIME.
III. TO BE TAKEN AT THE DINNER-TABLE.
IV. NOT TO BE TAKEN FOR GRANTED.
V. TO BE TAKEN IN WATER.
VI. TO BE TAKEN WITH A GRAIN OF SALT.
VII. TO BE TAKEN AND TRIED.
VIII. TO BE TAKEN FOR LIFE.
Price Fourpence, stitched in a cover.’
It was an immediate success; according to Dickens’s letters it sold over 200,000 copies within a few weeks of publication. On New Year’s Eve he wrote to his friend Edward Bulwer Lytton, ‘I received your letter in praise of Dr. Marigold, and read and re-read all your generous words, fifty times over, and with inexpressible delight. I cannot tell you how they gratified and affected me.’
The success of his new story was much-needed, as Dickens had experienced a very harrowing accident. On 9 June, he had been returning from France with Ellen Ternan and her mother. They travelled by boat from Boulogne to Folkestone, where they caught the train – and were lucky not to have been killed. The Staplehurst Crash, as it became known, was reported in the Kentish Gazette on Tuesday 13 June 1865:
‘DREADFUL RAILWAY ACCIDENT AT STAPLEHURST TEN PERSONS KILLED – UPWARDS OF TWENTY WOUNDED ‘The fast tidal train … started as usual, with about 110 passengers, and proceeded nearly 30 miles on its journey, when, at Staplehurst, the accident occurred … the railway crosses a stream which in winter is of formidable dimensions and of considerable depth, but in summer shrinks to the proportions of a rivulet. On the bridge itself a plate had been loosened by the platelayers, and the engine running over this was thrown off the rails. Though displaced from its proper track the locomotive adhered to the permanent way, but the train broke into two parts, and seven or eight of the carriages plunged into the stream, a fall of several feet. These vehicles were so crushed and shattered to pieces that together they did not occupy the space of two whole carriages … of the occupants several were killed and many injured…. Mr Charles Dickens had a narrow escape. He was in the train, but, fortunately for himself and for the interests of literature, received no injuries whatever.’
As Dickens explained to a friend, in a very shaky version of his handwriting:
‘I was in the only carriage which did not go over into the stream. It was caught upon the turn by some of the ruin of the bridge, and became suspended and balanced in an apparently impossible manner … I got out without the least notion of what had happened. Fortunately I got out with great caution, and stood upon the step. Looking down I saw the bridge gone, and nothing below me but the line of rail. Some people in the other two compartments were madly trying to plunge out at a window, and had no idea that there was an open, swampy field fifteen feet down below them, and nothing else. The two guards (one with his face cut) were running up and down on the down-track of the bridge (which was not torn up) quite wildly. I called out to them: “Look at me! Do stop an instant and look at me, and tell me whether you don’t know me?” One of them answered: “We know you very well, Mr. Dickens.” “Then,” I said, “my good fellow, for God’s sake, give me your key, and send one of those laborers here, and I’ll empty this carriage.” We did it quite safely, by means of a plank or two, and when it was done I saw all the rest of the train, except the two baggage vans, down the stream. I got into the carriage again for my brandy flask, took off my travelling hat for a basin, climbed down the brickwork, and filled my hat with water. Suddenly I came upon a staggering man, covered with blood (I think he must have been flung clean out of his carriage), with such a frightful cut across the skull that I couldn’t bear to look at him. I poured some water over his face, and gave him some to drink, then gave him some brandy, and laid him down on the grass.’
The Staplehurst Crash affected Dickens’s health for the rest of his life and the emotional scars affected his ability to enjoy travelling and performing on his reading tours.
Another new publication in the Christmas of 1865 was a private one, seen only by family and friends. The Dickens children had followed their father’s example and begun a magazine, The Gad’s Hill Gazette. On 30 December 1865, the magazine included its report of ‘Christmas at Gad’s Hill’:
‘During the past week, Gad’s Hill has resounded with the sounds of festivity and merriment. As is usually the case, the house has been filled with the guests who have come to taste of Mr Dickens’ hospitality. These consisted of Mr, Mad, and Master Fechter, Mr & Mrs Collins, Mr, Mrs and Master C. Dickens junr, Mr Morgan (who suddenly appeared on Christmas Day, having just returned from America) Mr M. Stone, Mr Chorley and Mr Dickenson.
‘The latter gentleman has not yet entirely recovered from the effects of a most disastrous railway accident in which he was a sufferer, and had it not been for the courage and intrepidity of Mr Dickens, he would not now be spending his Christmas at Gad’s Hill. A short time before the accident occurred, Mr Dickenson had a dispute with a French gentleman about the opening of the window when the former offered to change places, if the open window was disagreeable to his fellow traveller – this they did. –
‘Then came the accident, accompanied by all its frightful incidents. The French gentleman was killed, Mr Dickenson was stunned and hurled with great violence under the debris of a carriage.
‘Mr Dickens, who was in another compartment, managed to crawl out of the window and then, caring little for his own safety, busied himself in helping the wounded. Whilst engaged in doing this, he passed a carriage, underneath which he saw a gentleman (Mr Dickenson) lying perfectly still, and bleeding from the ears, eyes, nose and mouth.
‘He was immediately taken to the town of Staplehurst where he so far recovered as to be able to return to London, that evening.
‘Next morning he was suffering from a very severe concussion of the brain and was ill for many weeks – But to our subject.
‘On Christmas Day, Mr, Mrs & Miss Malleson came to dinner. At about 9, and ex tempore dance began and was kept up till about 2 o’clock Tuesday morning. During the week, billiards has been much resorted to. (See next page)
All the visitors are still here, except Mr Fechter and family who left on December 26th, and Mr Morgan (who is to return on the 31st. Talking of Mr Fechter, our readers will be glad to hear that he has made a most decided success in his new piece entitled – The Master of Ravenswood…’
A week later, the Gad’s Hill Gazette reported on the New Year celebrations:
New Year’s Eve was celebrated at Gad’s Hill, as usual, but it being Sunday, the entertainment was confined to amusements of a simpler description, such as the games called Buzz, Crambo, Spanish Merchant, & c. As the clock struck twelve, the usual formula was gone through, and Mr. John Thompson favoured the company with the chimes on the gong. At one o’clock the company separated for the night, in a good humour with themselves and with everybody.’
The following year, Dickens collaborated with a group of writers, including Hesba Stratton, and his son-in-law Charlie Collins, to produce a series of short stories known as Mugby Junction, published in the Christmas edition of All The Year Round. The most famous short story from Mugby Junction, is a ghost story, The Signalman, about a man haunted by a ghost, which appears to prophesy tragedies on the railway.
Mugby Junction was to prove a great success, but the writing of it was not easy. On 1 October 1866, Dickens wrote to W.H. Wills ‘I am still unapproachable on the general subject of Xmas Nos. myself – am lame – ferocious – and dangerous.’ Three days later he wrote to Wilkie Collins, ‘This is a pretty state of things! – That I should be in Christmas Labour, while you are cruising about the world’. In the middle of October, he wrote to his American publisher James T. Fields, ‘Although I perpetually see in the papers that I am
coming out with a new Serial, I assure you I know no more of it at present. I am not writing (except for Christmas No. of All The Year Round), and am going to begin, in the middle of January, a series of 42 Readings. Those will probably occupy me until Easter.’
Dickens was also preoccupied with news he had heard from America. A few years earlier his youngest brother, Augustus, had run away to America with his pregnant mistress, abandoning his wife in London. Dickens immediately took on the financial responsibility for his sister-in-law, Harriett. Over the years, the family had heard little from or about Augustus, except on such occasions as when a stranger contacted Charles Dickens to ask him to repay his brother’s debts. Then, in the winter of 1866, the news reached Dickens in a rather roundabout way that his youngest sibling had died. Dickens wrote to W.H. Wills, ‘That news of Augustus, I think may be taken as true. It was very thoughtful of you – and like you – to send it. Poor fellow! A sad business altogether! My mind misgives me that it will bring a host of disagreeables from America.’ Discovering that Augustus’s lover Bertha Phillips had been left alone with three young children, Dickens sent her money, but this led to him worrying that Harriett would be offended.
The news of his estranged brother’s death arrived at his busiest time of year and in this particular year, Dickens felt he had taken on too much. A letter to Mrs Cowden Clarke begins:
‘This is written in the greatest haste and distraction, by reason of my being in the height of the business of the Xmas No. And as I have this year written half of it myself, the always difficult work of selecting from an immense heap of contributions is rendered twice as difficult as usual, by the contracted space available.’
His hard work was rewarded when Mugby Junction proved even more popular than Doctor Marigold’s Prescriptions. On 13 December, Dickens wrote to his sister Letitia, ‘The Xmas No to day is at the astonishing number of 40,000 ahead of even Doctor Marigold at the same date.’
After all the stress, Dickens was planning to spend the full twelve days of Christmas at Gad’s Hill Place and to host a special public sporting event on Boxing Day, in the field opposite his house. He wrote to Macready that Mugby Junction had now sold a quarter of a million copies and described the success of the sports day:
‘You will be interested in knowing, that, encouraged by the success of Summer Cricket Matches, I got up a quantity of footraces and rustic sports in my field here on the 26th. Last past. As I have never yet had a case of drunkenness, the landlord of the Falstaff had a drinking booth on the ground. All the Prizes I gave were in money too. We had two thousand people here. Among the crowd were soldiers, navvies, and labourers of all kinds. Not a stake was pulled up, or a rope slackened, or one farthing’s worth of damage done. To every competitor (only) a printed bill of general rules was given, with the concluding words: ‘Mrs Dickens puts every man upon his honor [sic] to assist in preserving order’. There was not a dispute all day, and they went away at sunset rending the air with cheers, and leaving every flag on a 600 yards course, as neat as they found it when the gates were opened at 10 in the morning. Surely this is a bright sign in the neighbourhood of such a place as Chatham!’
Mamie estimated that there were between two and three thousand people on the field ‘and by a kind of magical influence, my father seemed to rule every creature present to do his or her best to maintain order. The likelihood of things going wrong was anticipated, and despite the general prejudice of the neighbours against the undertaking, my father’s belief and trust in his guests was not disappointed.’ On New Year’s Day Dickens wrote about it to John Forster:
‘The great mass of the crowd were labouring men of all kinds, soldiers, sailors, and navvies … The road between this and Chatham was like a Fair all day; and surely it is a fine thing to get such perfect behaviour out of a reckless seaport town. Among other oddities we had A Hurdle Race for Strangers. One man (he came in second) ran 120 yards and leaped over ten hurdles in twenty seconds, with a pipe in his mouth, and smoking all the time. “If it hadn’t been for your pipe,” I said to him at the winning-post, “you would have been the first”. “I beg your pardon, sir,” he answered, “but if it hadn’t been for my pipe, I should have been nowhere.”’
Despite Dickens’s comments that he wanted to repeat the sports day the following year, he turned out to have very different plans for the winter of 1867. For months he vacillated over the idea of making a return trip to America, twenty-five years after he and Catherine had visited together, twenty-five years after his controversial publication of American Notes, and after the country had come through a civil war. He could not make up his mind whether or not to go, but just in case, he started work on the Christmas edition of All The Year Round in the summer. At the end of August, he wrote to his reading tour manager George Dolby, ‘We have a Cricket Match here to day, and I am going to score … I must go up to the office tomorrow to hold Xmas consultation with Wilkie.’
In September 1867, strange newspaper reports started to circulate claiming Dickens was suffering from failing health. His American publisher, James Fields, was worried, and Dickens wrote to reassure him, ‘Charles Reade and Wilkie Collins are here; and the joke of the time is to feel my pulse when I appear at table…’ The reports became so widespread, that Dickens felt compelled to write to The Times to explain he was quite well. He was still agonising over whether or not to go to America; one day he would send a letter saying he was going, then the next he would write that he had decided against it absolutely. Finally, on 30 September, he wrote to Georgina, ‘I have made up my mind to see it out … I am so nervous with travelling and anxiety to decide sensibly, that I can hardly write.’ To his son Henry, at boarding school, he detailed his plans: ‘I sail for America, from Liverpool, on Saturday the 9th of November. My Cunard Ship is the Cuba, and I have one of the officers’ cabins on deck. I hope to return by the First Cunard ship in May. It will be a very fatiguing business….’
He promised James Fields that he would bring with him an early proof of the new Christmas issue of All The Year Round:
‘I will bring you out the early proof of the Xmas No. We publish it here on the 12th of December. I am planning it out into a play for Wilkie Collins to manipulate after I sail, and have arranged for Fechter to go to the Adelphi Theatre and play a Swiss in it. It will be brought out, the day after Christmas Day.’
The Christmas story for 1867 was No Thoroughfare, a novella written jointly with Wilkie Collins. The story harked back to one of his earliest inspirations, the Foundling Hospital in London, which had inspired him while writing Oliver Twist. The story centres on two foundling children who are given the same name, Walter Wilding, and the confusion that results from the mother of the first Walter Wilding adopting the second child by mistake and leaving him a large inheritance. The story was adventurous and melodramatic, and very popular, but Dickens was concerned about the stage version and wrote to Wilkie from America that he was worried it would not be a success – he was wrong. It was performed at the Adelphi Theatre with Charles Fechter in one of the starring roles and was a great success. Dickens carefully stage-managed what should happen with the publication of Household Words in his five-months absence; amongst the instructions he gave to Wills was that no stories about America were to be published in the magazine while he was over there. The new, post-civil-war America seemed, finally, to have forgiven him for American Notes and Dickens was very wary of allowing any further controversy.
On 19 November, the Cuba landed in Boston. Charles Dickens and George Dolby had a full schedule ahead of them, and for Dickens this was to be an exhausting and quite depressing time. He had a couple of weeks until his first reading, on 2 December, which was intended to give him time to recover from the rigours of the journey and to prepare his performances, but the enforced idleness made him irritable and exacerbated his homesickness, a feeling that engulfed him throughout this second American trip. Americans were overjoyed to have the man who had ‘invented’ Christmas spend the festive s
eason in their country and they worked very hard to make him feel welcome and adored; but for Dickens it was the most miserable Christmas of his adult life. He had been unable to take Ellen with him, having been persuaded by friends and colleagues that no one would believe she was just a family friend, and he missed her and his children. He also found the cold weather of an East Coast winter far more difficult to cope with than he had expected. His publisher James T. Fields and his wife Annie had befriended Dickens some years earlier and he had been invited to spend Thanksgiving at the home of Annie’s sister, Mrs James Beal. When the day arrived, however, Dickens wrote to apologise that he was unable to make the party due to a sudden ‘melancholy’ that washed over him. He was unable, he said, to leave the fireside in his hotel bedroom. He needed solitude. This breaking of an engagement, especially on the day of the party itself, shows just how depressed Dickens was, as to do so was very out of character. In his memoir, Dickens As I Knew Him, George Dolby wrote, ‘He held it as a maxim that “No man had a right to break an engagement with the public if he were able to be out of bed.”’
On 1 December 1867 Dickens wrote to Mamie, from his hotel, the Parker House in Boston, about how exhausted he was: