The Real Beatrix Potter
Page 11
Some of the more colourful village characters were eager for fame through the pages of Beatrix’s books, and she found herself being urged, cajoled and persuaded to please feature them in her next story. Beatrix explained to Millie how relieved she was that nobody appeared to mind having their homes used in this way and were thrilled when they saw the rather familiar illustrations in The Tale of Ginger & Pickles: ‘The Ginger & Pickles book has been causing amusement,’ she wrote.
It has got a good many views which can be recognised in the village, which is what they like: they are all quite jealous of each other’s houses and cats getting into a book. I have been entreated to draw a cat aged twenty ‘with no teeth’. The owner seemed to think the ‘no teeth’ was a curiosity and attraction! I should think the poor old thing must be rather worn out.
Beatrix dedicated The Tale of Ginger & Pickles to John Taylor, the bedridden owner of the village shop who she immortalised as the character John Dormouse, although he passed away before the book was published and she was never able to show it to him. Beatrix had already featured his son, the village carpenter, as a terrier called John Joiner in The Tale of The Roly-Poly Pudding, so felt she owed it to him.
As Beatrix explained in one of her many letters to Louisa Ferguson in New Zealand:
It was all drawn in the village near my farmhouse, and the village shop is there. Only poor old John Dormouse is dead – just before the book was finished. I was so sorry I could not give him a copy before he died. He was such a funny old man: I thought he might be offended if I made fun of him, so I said I would only draw his shop and not him. And then he said I had drawn his son John in another book, with a saw and wagging his tail and old John felt jealous of young John. So I said how could I draw him if he would not get up? – and he considered for several days and then sent his respects and thinks he might pass as a dormouse! It is considered very like him.
Forging these friendships was a sign that Beatrix was well and truly settled into her rural life and she started to think about expanding the amount of land she owned. At first she was content with picking up a few more sheep and cows at agricultural shows, and perhaps an extra field here and there, but before long she was keeping a keen eye on the regional property market, and as places went up for sale Beatrix started to snap them up. Her initial property purchases were two small farms in the village which came with their own fields, followed by another cottage and then a quarry. Soon she owned more than half the property in Sawrey and started to set her sights further afield.
But Beatrix was not quite as free as she might have imagined. Since Bolton Gardens was still her official home, and London was her birthplace, to some of the older generation she was regarded as an outsider, and so her property purchases had to be agreed by various village committees. Displaying her usual levels of tenacity Beatrix managed to find a loophole by getting herself elected to a position on the village committee, but there were still hurdles to be overcome, as she explained to Millie: ‘I am on the committee and a determined person, but unfortunately non-resident.’
Beatrix had money pouring in and wanted to invest it wisely. The Tale of Peter Rabbit was already being translated into French, German, Spanish and Welsh – all very lucrative projects which she was closely involved with – and she had become a very wealthy woman as a result. On top of the foreign language market, Beatrix was also years ahead of her time when it came to merchandising opportunities. In years to come she would oversee the design and manufacture of a wide range of branded products from hot water bottles to christening mugs, but at this stage she was among the first children’s authors – and certainly the first females – to come up with the idea of creating toy versions of her most popular characters.
Before he died, she and Norman had invented a prototype Peter Rabbit doll together in his basement workshop, which Warnes were keen to start manufacturing as they knew it would be popular with readers. Eager to keep Norman’s vision alive, Beatrix predicted that Peter Rabbit dolls could be a money-spinning side-line. During her next few visits to London she went to inspect several toy factories to discuss making Norman’s ideas a reality. Unfortunately her time spent on the farm meant Beatrix was a little out of touch with Liberal politics and new changes being made to the Free Trade policy, which her own radical grandfather had pushed through Parliament. Political upheaval meant the British market was being swamped with cheaper goods being imported from abroad, and the toy trade in particular was suffering from a deluge of cheap German toys.
The problem for Beatrix was that the doll industry in London was rapidly being killed off as it was being undercut by larger economies that could produce the same items for much less. The economic slump was leading to widespread unemployment and resentment towards Europe – which would of course last for many more decades to come.
Beatrix was deeply saddened by what she saw, but her sadness turned to fury when she realised that German toy factories were already churning out fake and cheaply made Peter Rabbit and Squirrel Nutkin dolls without her permission, stealing her own idea from under her. Firing off a frantic letter to Warnes, Beatrix wrote: ‘My father has just bought a squirrel in the Burlington Arcade, it was sold as ‘Nutkin’. It is prettier than the rabbits, but evidently the same make - I wonder how soon we may expect to see the mice!’
Trade tariffs were also affecting sales of Beatrix’s books in America – they were selling well across the Atlantic but the trade agreements meant she did not have copyright over them and was not receiving her share of the profits.
Infuriated by the whole situation, which was threatening to adversely affect her personal income – and was already causing huge losses for her publishers – Beatrix decided to become a passionate political campaigner and joined the battle for Tariff Reform in the months leading up to the 1910 General Election. She became so passionate about the issue that she wrote and published at her own expense an impassioned piece of propaganda urging people to oppose the Liberal policy. Beatrix signed every copy herself and personally distributed the pamphlets by hand through hundreds of letterboxes around the Potters’ home in Kensington, explaining her own personal grievance with the issue: ‘A few years ago I invented a rabbit doll which was in demand,’ she wrote.
I tried in vain to get it made in England. There was not a single British wholesale toymaker left who could undertake the job. My doll is now made by scores in Frau H-’s factory in Germany. The London toy shops are choked with foreign toys.
Now the question has reached my books. There has always been very great difficulty about English books in the United States. The States are enormously rich and protected by heavy tariffs. We have no tariff by means of which we might bring the States to reason. They simply laugh at us. My most successful book has been printed and reprinted by American printers who never sent me a halfpenny.
The difficulties about copyrighting an English book in America are now so very great that we are obliged to engrave and print in America all copies intended for American use. The manufacture and wages belonging to those copies are now lost to England.
It is uphill work, trying to help folk who will not help themselves. ‘Why should I bother myself about the British workman, if he prefers “Free Trade”?’
Beatrix went on to complain that as well as being an author and a potential toy maker, she was also an owner of farmland and the Government’s plans to increase the land tax would mean she in turn would have to raise rents for her tenants in the Lake District.
She may have been raising valid points but a major stumbling block for Beatrix was that as a woman she was still not eligible to vote on these policies. Worse still, she had opposed the idea of Women’s Suffrage in the past, dismissing it as ‘very silly work’, but changed her mind now that she was on a personal crusade.
She wrote: ‘If the tax is raised I shall be obliged reluctantly to raise the rent. I am not a Duke: I bought that field out of my earnings and savings. Also I have no vote!’
To accompa
ny her political pamphlet Beatrix also drew a number of illustrations showing a sad and limp-looking British made doll with the caption ‘Killed by Free Trade’ and ended up producing so many hand-drawn copies that she complained: ‘I am so busy over the Election, my fingers are quite stiff with drawing posters.’
In the poster, the character was drawn with a price tag in his ear and the words ‘Made in Germany’ written underneath. The Conservatives put the issue of tariff reform at the heart of their manifesto but many feared it would lead to higher food prices. The first election, in January, resulted in a hung parliament. The second, in December, also ended in deadlock, but Herbert Asquith’s Liberal Party were able to form a government with the support of Irish Nationalists. Unfortunately all Beatrix’s hard work proved to be in vain as the Liberals retained their power; she was exasperated but remained a supporter of the Conservative Party for the rest of her life, although she was not an active campaigner after that, and she never attempted to influence the outcome of an election again.
Beatrix’s parents were thrilled that she seemed to finally be in agreement with their Conservative politics, and for a long time afterwards they would often proudly boast to their friends about ‘The year when Bee went into politics.’
Beatrix did however remain vigilant against the constant threat of piracy and copyright infringement on her work. Her books were becoming so popular all over the world that unscrupulous competitors were constantly flooding the market not only with bootleg toys, but also counterfeit copies of her illustrations and even children’s bedroom wallpaper featuring fake versions of the characters she had created. Beatrix was horrified at the idea of children’s nurseries being decorated with artless, knock-off attempts at Peter Rabbit, and so she wrote to Warnes wanting to know what could be done to tackle the problem: ‘Of course if it were done at all it ought to be done by me – but I find it rather awkward to say so. The idea of rooms covered with badly drawn rabbits is appalling: the American edition would be nothing to it!’
Warnes immediately contacted a major British wallpaper manufacturer, Sanderson’s, who dismissed their idea of Beatrix designing her own official range as old-fashioned and unlikely to be profitable.
Furious at being rejected, Beatrix retorted: ‘I am not very keen about selling it to a firm who don’t fancy it much. I think Sanderson’s are right in calling the designs old-fashioned; but the books – which are certainly not new art or high art – have sold pretty well!’
Her frosty response seemed to give the company reason to reconsider, and on second thought decided that perhaps there was a chance that there could be a market for it. Sanderson’s range of Beatrix Potter wallpaper has proved so phenomenally popular that it continues to sell successfully around the world to this day, with royalties still pouring in to support the causes close to her heart.
Chapter Twelve
While the excitement surrounding her political campaigning and the frenzy of two General Elections being held in the same year had made Beatrix’s time in London far more interesting than any of her previous visits, she always yearned to return to Hill Top. Her publishers at Warnes had been glad to have their reclusive author around so much, since it made contacting her so much faster while they tackled the thorny problems surrounding copyright and issues with translating her books into more and more languages, but Beatrix could not wait to escape the city again.
In a bid to keep her in London, Warnes urged Beatrix to spend time responding to the sacks of fan mail they received at the office on her behalf. Beatrix was inundated with requests almost daily from children, urging her to name characters after their pets, and many of the handwritten replies she sent have survived to this day.
She may have wanted to take a step back from publishing, but her young readers simply would not allow it. Beatrix was receiving more and more letters from ‘her little friends’ all around the world with children offering praise, suggestions for new books and bombarding her with hundreds of detailed questions about the characters and plots.
In a letter to a young girl named Phyllis, Beatrix told her about the ‘heaps of letters’ she had received from other young readers pleading for all manner of pets to be mentioned in her future books, one child even asked her to consider featuring a crocodile. Phyllis had apparently asked Beatrix to please use her rabbit Fluffy in a story. Despite Beatrix’s bulging post bag, she found the time to pen a charming four-page reply that come to light at an auction in 2012.
She gently let Phyllis down by telling her: ‘I feel quite sad to disappoint you – I have begun another book about the fox! If I can do another book that Fluffy can come into – I promise to.’
It is thought the fox in question was Mr Tod, who featured in her 1912 book The Tale of Mr Tod. Beatrix added:
You don’t know what heaps of letters I get from all over the world, and so many of them want a book about some special animal.
There was a letter lately from a child in Wales who wants a book about a crocodile called Amelia! That I cannot stand!
Then there is a small boy in Ireland who wants to know if Jeremy Fisher ever got married, and two want moles, & another wants a donkey named Salome, & another wants a horse book, and another wants hens, & another wants elephants – poor Miss Potter!
Fluffy is a very reasonable request by comparison.
Beatrix also admitted that she had no choice but to refuse young Phyllis’ request to draw a cat or a dog for her because, she insisted, she was far better at sketching mice and rabbits. But Beatrix did soften the blow by revealing further details about Peter Rabbit, still her most popular character ten years after the original book was published, adding that he was ‘clever at tricks’, such as jumping through hoops, and playing the tambourine.
The almost pristine note, which has widely been considered by archivists to give a revealing glimpse into Beatrix’s personal life, fetched £3,500 when it was sold at Autograph Auctions by a private collector. Andy Poole, chief executive at The World of Beatrix Potter Attraction in Cumbria, said:
Beatrix Potter was a prolific letter writer in the early days because it was kind of exciting for her, and as time went on it became less. For this one to have survived to this date is probably quite rare and unusual, a lot of them would have got lost over the years. This letter is exciting and interesting. It shows a different aspect of what she did.
He added that Beatrix was very genuine in her replies and wanted children to enjoy her stories, calling the letter ‘lovely’ and ‘personal’.
Richard Davie of International Autograph Auctions said: ‘You get the sense in the letter that Beatrix Potter didn’t respond to all her letters. She must have been in regular correspondence with Phyllis. It is a very charming letter. Peter Rabbit is her most well-known character and for her to mention him in a letter like this is excellent.’
In Beatrix’s mind her readers were becoming a little too demanding for her liking, and when children from Devon wrote in 1915 to complain that she had not written a sequel to The Tale of Mr Tod, she gave them short shrift in a curt reply: ‘It is sad to have caused such disappointment! Though I must say when I was a little girl, I was satisfied with about six books, three dolls and a stuffed cotton pig. I think that children now have too many.’
Usually when corresponding with children, Beatrix was far friendlier and would devote long evenings to answering as many letters as she could, particularly in the winter months when she could not spend as many hours outside. However, hundreds of letters reached her in Sawrey and it would have been impossible for her to answer them all, although she did her best especially to the children who really seemed to believe in the characters and wanted to know more details about their personalities or hear further adventures.
That Christmas Beatrix explained to Millie Warne: ‘I hope you will have a pleasant Christmas at Surbiton. I shall devote mine to answering an accumulation of unknown children. I cannot get them done before.’
While Beatrix took the time to show
kindness to her young readers, she was rarely so sentimental in the pages of her stories, which often had a dark hint of menace to them. Her farming friends had taught Beatrix that in the natural world the rule was simply eat or be eaten, and that was a theme which Beatrix revisited throughout her series of little white books as her characters battled for survival. Once she was spending her days outside, Beatrix’s formerly idyllic view of nature was changing somewhat, her outlook altered as she was starting to appreciate just how harsh the elements could be. Back in London, when her only experiences of the countryside were those blissful cherished summer holidays, all her characters lived happy sunny existences. But life on the farm could be brutal and unpredictable, and she found her livelihood being dictated by the forces of weather, pests and the setting of the sun. While she tried to reflect a little more of this reality in her later work, she knew better than to be too accurate and frightening. Beatrix understood that her characters were already fairly lifelike and while her young readers enjoyed suspense, danger and drama, they always wanted a happy ending to every story.
In her book Don’t Tell the Grown-Ups: The Subversive Power of Children’s Literature, the novelist Alison Lurie wrote that Beatrix’s books taught that ‘Disobedience and exploration are more fun than good behaviour, and not really all that dangerous.’ Lurie added that Beatrix had always been wonderfully matter-of-fact about nature’s cruelty and human ruthlessness, even before she bought the farm. On the very first page of her very first book, Peter Rabbit was sent out to play with his mother’s terrible warning ringing in his ears: ‘Your father had an accident; he was put in a pie by Mrs McGregor,’ she reminded him ominously.
Tom Kitten, meanwhile, was turned into a sausage roll after being wrapped in pastry by two triumphant rats. Jemima Puddle-Duck stood helplessly by while Mr Tod stole her precious eggs. While she showed that life was fragile, property was constantly under threat in Beatrix’s fictitious world too, where animals’ homes were frequently at risk of being taken over by a bigger or stronger predator. When The Two Bad Mice broke into a doll’s house and were furious to discover that they could not eat the toy food they found, they took great pleasure in trashing the place. The Tale of Mr Tod meanwhile was widely considered to be Beatrix’s darkest tale and the first to focus explicitly on the work of the villains. The story, written in 1912, was about a vindictive fox who owned half a dozen houses but was rarely at home, instead spending his time watching out for his grinning badger nemesis Tommy Brock who threatened to cause him harm. There were fewer illustrations than usual, and they were smudgier and darker, giving the book a gloomy, gothic atmosphere which her readers had not experienced before.