its attributes to Rachel Ray and to Miss Mackenzie. It is readable,
and contains scenes which are true to life; but it has no peculiar
merits, and will add nothing to my reputation as a novelist. I have
not looked at it since it was published; and now turning back to
it in my memory, I seem to remember almost less of it than of any
book that I have written.
CHAPTER XI "THE CLAVERINGS," THE "PALL MALL GAZETTE," "NINA BALATKA," AND "LINDA TRESSEL"
The Claverings, which came out in 1866 and 1867, was the last novel
which I wrote for the Cornhill; and it was for this that I received
the highest rate of pay that was ever accorded to me. It was the
same length as Framley Parsonage, and the price was (pounds)2800. Whether
much or little, it was offered by the proprietor of the magazine,
and was paid in a single cheque.
In The Claverings I did not follow the habit which had now become
very common to me, of introducing personages whose names are already
known to the readers of novels, and whose characters were familiar
to myself. If I remember rightly, no one appears here who had
appeared before or who has been allowed to appear since. I consider
the story as a whole to be good, though I am not aware that the
public has ever corroborated that verdict. The chief character
is that of a young woman who has married manifestly for money and
rank,--so manifestly that she does not herself pretend, even while
she is making the marriage, that she has any other reason. The
man is old, disreputable, and a wornout debauchee. Then comes the
punishment natural to the offence. When she is free, the man whom
she had loved, and who had loved her, is engaged to another woman.
He vacillates and is weak,--in which weakness is the fault of the
book, as he plays the part of hero. But she is strong--strong in
her purpose, strong in her desires, and strong in her consciousness
that the punishment which comes upon her has been deserved.
But the chief merit of The Clarverings is in the genuine fun of
some of the scenes. Humour has not been my forte, but I am inclined
to think that the characters of Captain Boodle, Archie Clavering,
and Sophie Gordeloup are humorous. Count Pateroff, the brother of
Sophie, is also good, and disposes of the young hero's interference
in a somewhat masterly manner. In The Claverings, too, there is a
wife whose husband is a brute to her, who loses an only child--his
heir--and who is rebuked by her lord because the boy dies. Her
sorrow is, I think, pathetic. From beginning to end the story is
well told. But I doubt now whether any one reads The Claverings.
When I remember how many novels I have written, I have no right
to expect that above a few of them shall endure even to the second
year beyond publication. This story closed my connection with the
Cornhill Magazine;--but not with its owner, Mr. George Smith, who
subsequently brought out a further novel of mine in a separate
form, and who about this time established the Pall Mall Gazette,
to which paper I was for some years a contributor.
It was in 1865 that the Pall Mall Gazette was commenced, the
name having been taken from a fictitious periodical, which was the
offspring of Thackeray's brain. It was set on foot by the unassisted
energy and resources of George Smith, who had succeeded by means
of his magazine and his publishing connection in getting around him
a society of literary men who sufficed, as far as literary ability
went, to float the paper at one under favourable auspices. His two
strongest staffs probably were "Jacob Omnium," whom I regard as the
most forcible newspaper writer of my days, and Fitz-James Stephen,
the most conscientious and industrious. To them the Pall Mall
Gazette owed very much of its early success,--and to the untiring
energy and general ability of its proprietor. Among its other
contributors were George Lewes, Hannay,--who, I think, came up
from Edinburgh for employment on its columns,--Lord Houghton, Lord
Strangford, Charles Merivale, Greenwood the present editor, Greg,
myself, and very many others;--so many others, that I have met
at a Pall Mall dinner a crowd of guests who would have filled the
House of Commons more respectably than I have seen it filled even
on important occasions. There are many who now remember--and no
doubt when this is published there will be left some to remember--the
great stroke of business which was done by the revelations of a
visitor to one of the casual wards in London. A person had to be
selected who would undergo the misery of a night among the usual
occupants of a casual ward in a London poorhouse, and who should at
the same time be able to record what he felt and saw. The choice
fell upon Mr. Greenwood's brother, who certainly possessed the
courage and the powers of endurance. The description, which was
very well given, was, I think, chiefly written by the brother of
the Casual himself. It had a great effect, which was increased by
secrecy as to the person who encountered all the horrors of that
night. I was more than once assured that Lard Houghton was the man.
I heard it asserted also that I myself had been the hero. At last
the unknown one could no longer endure that his honours should be
hidden, and revealed the truth,--in opposition, I fear, to promises
to the contrary, and instigated by a conviction that if known he
could turn his honours to account. In the meantime, however, that
record of a night passed in a workhouse had done more to establish
the sale of the journal than all the legal lore of Stephen, or the
polemical power of Higgins, or the critical acumen of Lewes.
My work was various. I wrote much on the subject of the American
War, on which my feelings were at the time very keen,--subscribing,
if I remember right, my name to all that I wrote. I contributed
also some sets of sketches, of which those concerning hunting found
favour with the public. They were republished afterwards, and had
a considerable sale, and may, I think, still be recommended to those
who are fond of hunting, as being accurate in their description of
the different classes of people who are to be met in the hunting-field.
There was also a set of clerical sketches, which was considered to
be of sufficient importance to bring down upon my head the critical
wrath of a great dean of that period. The most ill-natured review
that was ever written upon any work of mine appeared in the
Contemporary Review with reference to these Clerical Sketches. The
critic told me that I did not understand Greek. That charge has
been made not unfrequently by those who have felt themselves strong
in that pride-producing language. It is much to read Greek with
ease, but it is not disgraceful to be unable to do so. To pretend
to read it without being able,--that is disgraceful. The critic,
however, had been driven to wrath by my saying that Deans of the
Church of England loved to revisit the glimpses of the metropolitan
moon.
I also did some critical work for the Pall Mall,--as I did also for
The Fortnightly. It was not to my taste, but was done in conformity
with strict conscientious scruples. I read what I took in hand, and
said what I believed to be true,--always giving to the matter time