DICKENS AND HIS ILLUSTRATORS

An Illustrator Required for "THE MYSTERY OF EDWIN DROOD"--Charles Alston Collins Offers his Services--His Design for the Wrapper--He Prepares Sketches for the First Number--Ill-Health--The Project abandoned--Death of Mr. Collins creates a Dilemma--"The Fellow for 'Edwin Drood'" Discovered--Luke Fildes, R.A.--His Drawing of "Houseless and Hungry"--Specimens of his Black-and-White Drawings Submitted to Dickens--A Complimentary Letter from the Novelist--Mr. Fildes Elected to Illustrate "Edwin Drood"--First Meeting of Author and Artist--A Pen-Portrait of Dickens--A Memorable Interview--Pictorial Exactness--Working under Difficulties--Studies from the Life--Successful Realisation of Types--The Opium-Smokers' Den--Cloisterham--The Artist's Method of Executing his Designs--The Engraved Reproductions--The Finale of the Story Hinted at--Mr. Fildes Invited to Glad's Hill--Suggestion for the last Drawing--Death of Dickens--"The Empty Chair"--A Visit to John Forster--A Curious Coincidence--Pleasing Reminiscences of Dickens--Mementoes of the Novelist--Unpublished Drawings for "Edwin Drood."

HEN Mr. Marcus Stone, R.A., had completed his designs for "Our Mutual Friend," he determined to relinquish black-and-white drawing and to concentrate his energy upon painting; but for this, it is probable that his skilled pencil would have been requisitioned for Charles Dickens's last story, "The Mystery of Edwin Drood." That the re-engagement of Hablôt Browne as illustrator of that unfinished romance was not contemplated may be attributed chiefly to the fact that, in 1867, the clever artist whose name and fame will ever be associated with the writings of Dickens was unhappily struck with severe paralysis, and consequently his hand had lost its cunning. The assistance of either of these draughtsmen being, therefore, out of the question, the novelist was compelled to seek a new illustrator, and at this crisis his son-in-law, Charles Alston Collins (brother of Wilkie Collins), intimated that he would like to undertake the necessary designs for "Edwin Drood," or rather to test his powers in that direction. Although he occupied himself, in a desultory fashion, with both Literature and Art, Charles Collins had been bred a painter, and achieved a notable position among the young artists of the Pre-Raphaelite School. He favoured the pen, however, rather than the pencil, his fugitive pieces being distinguished for the most part by humour of a charming quality. Dickens had great faith in his artistic talent, and accordingly (on September 14, 1869) sent his publishers the following note: "Charles Collins wishes to try his hand at illustrating my new book. I want him to try the cover first. Please send down to him at Gad's Hill any of our old green covers you may have by you." The pictorial wrapper was satisfactorily completed, whereupon Charles Collins began to prepare sketches for the first number, an undertaking which he looked upon rather as an experiment. Ill-health, alas! proved a serious obstacle, and, after making a futile endeavour to realise his conceptions, he was compelled to abandon the project altogether. It has been suggested that, as the leading incidents portrayed by him on the cover were intended to prefigure the course of the narrative, Charles Collins must have obtained a clue to the "mystery" involved in the story. As a matter of fact, there is no evidence that he had the faintest notion of the meaning of the enigmatical little tableaux of which his design consists; on the contrary, it is asserted that he merely received the novelist's verbal directions without obtaining any hint as to their real significance. Charles Alston Collins died in 1873 in his forty-fifth year, having "borne much suffering, through many trying years, with uncomplaining patience." He was a son-in-law of Charles Dickens, whose younger daughter, Kate, he married in 1860, the occasion being signalised by much rejoicing on the part of the novelist's friends and neighbours at Gad's Hill.

  The speedy relinquishment by Charles Collins of the illustrating of "Edwin Drood" caused something of a dilemma. Dickens being again without an illustrator, he appealed for advice to his friends Mr. (afterwards Sir John) Millais, R.A., and Mr. W.P. Frith, R.A., who promised to aid him in searching for a suitable artist. Shortly afterwards there was published in the initial number of The Graphic an engraving entitled "Houseless and Hungry," depicting a crowd of vagrants of both sexes awaiting admission to the workhouse,--a picture at once so powerfully conceived and so pathetic in sentiment that it immediately attracted the attention of Sir John Millais, who immediately hastened in a cab to Dickens's rooms at Hyde Park Place, bearing in his hand a copy of the new journal. Striding into the study, and waving The Graphic above his head, the famous painter exclaimed, "I've got him!"

  "Got whom?" inquired the novelist.

  "The fellow for 'Edwin Drood,'" replied Millais, as he threw the paper down on the table.

  No sooner had Dickens examined the picture than he became similarly enthusiastic in his praise, and wrote forthwith to his publishers, requesting them to communicate with the artist, Mr. Samuel Luke Fildes, now a popular Royal Academician, but who was then comparatively unknown in the world of Art. At the period referred to, Mr. Fildes was a young man of five-and-twenty, who had but just begun to make his mark as a draughtsman in black-and-white. After some desultory study of drawing and painting at Chester and Warrington, he came to London in 1862 for the purpose of seeing the Great Exhibition, and was so impressed that he determined to make his future home in the Metropolis. In the following year he gained a scholarship at the South Kensington Schools, and afterwards became a student of the Royal Academy. The Cornhill, Once a Week, and other magazines then in the ascendant, owed much of their popularity to the beautiful designs by Millais, Leighton, and similarly distinguished artists, and these remarkable productions inclined Mr. Fildes to adopt book-illustration as a stepping-stone towards painting. Good-fortune attended his efforts, and in June 1869, by which time he had achieved a position as a black-and-white draughtsman, he received an intimation from Mr. W. L. Thomas that he had conceived the idea of publishing a new illustrated paper, eventually called The Graphic, and suggested that he should draw something effective, the subject to be the artist's own choice, for publication therein.

  "I went home," says Mr. Fildes, "and, at ten o'clock on a terribly hot night, I sat with a piece of paper and sketched out the idea for 'The Casuals.' Some few years before, when I first came to London, I was very fond of wandering about, and remember beholding somewhere near the Portland Road, one snowy winter's night, the applicants for admission to a casual ward." Recollecting the incident, Mr. Fildes endeavoured to reproduce this scene as a subject likely to prove acceptable to the manager of The Graphic, and it was that very picture which, as already related, led to the artist's introduction to the famous novelist.

  Messrs. Chapman & Hall, who had been authorised to write to Mr. Fildes respecting the illustration of "Edwin Drood," desired him to submit specimens of his black-and-white work, and at the same time expressed a hope that, as they had no recollection of having seen representations of beautiful women in any of his drawings, he would enclose a few examples of his ability in that direction, for the very important reason that in Charles Dickens's new story would appear two attractive heroines. Mr. Fildes immediately dispatched a parcel containing various illustrations designed by him for the magazines, and promised to execute, for the novelist's inspection, two or three drawings of scenes from one of his stories. A few days later the artist became the recipient of a very complimentary letter, in which Dickens said: "I beg to thank you for the highly meritorious and interesting specimens of your art that you have had the kindness to send me. I return them herewith, after having examined them with the greatest pleasure. I am naturally curious to see your drawing from 'David Copperfield,' in order that I may compare it with my own idea. In the meanwhile, I can honestly assure you that I entertain the greatest admiration for your remarkable powers."

  In accordance with his own proposal, Mr. Fildes prepared two or three designs from "Copperfield," one of which fulfilled the requisite condition that it should contain a representation of a pretty girl, the subject selected being the scene depicting Peggotty embracing Little Em'ly after the announcement of her betrothal to Ham. Dickens considered these drawings so eminently satisfactory that he desired the artist to call upon him at his temporary residence, No. 5 Hyde Park Place, for the purpose of consulting him regarding the illustrations for "Edwin Drood." The eventful day at length arrived when author and artist met for the first time, and the auspicious occasion is thus pleasantly recalled in the following note from Mr. Fildes (written for "Charles Dickens by Pen and Pencil"), in response to my inquiry respecting his earliest impressions of the novelist's personality:--

  "I can tell you so little of Dickens that is 'terse, graphic, or vivid.' It's so long ago! He passed by me so like a vision. At least it seems so to me now. When I first saw him, I felt a little oppressed--I don't know why--he loomed so large, and was so great in my imagination. He rose from his writing-table to greet me. He was dressed in dark clothes; I cannot quite recall the cut of coat, but it was loose and unbuttoned,--a black silk neckerchief was loosely tied, with hanging ends, round his throat. His general appearance, with the 'cut' of his head, gave me the idea--perhaps reminded me somehow--of one who was, or had been, connected with the sea. But I thought so much of the Man, and had so affectionate a respect, that it never occurred to me then nor since to take an inventory of his features or the details of his clothes. I could possibly be contradicted on nearly every point were I to attempt it. What I do remember--and it is as clear to me as yesterday--is the indescribable sweetness and kindness of manner--a frank affectionate way that drew me towards him the moment I saw him. I don't know what it was, or how--perhaps his smile, the clasp of his hand, the drawing me down to sit beside him--but I felt like one does with one's own father, that you 'get on with' when a boy. That impression never left me."

  When, at this memorable interview, Dickens had expressed his requirements, Mr. Fildes (as he himself informs me) explained to the novelist that, while fully appreciating the honour of being selected as illustrator of "Edwin Drood," he would be compelled most reluctantly to forego the privilege if it were really a sine qua non that the designs should be of a humorous character, following the lead of the versatile "Phiz." He conceived it advisable to make it clearly understood, there and then, that comic drawing was not his metier, and ventured to remind the novelist that his stories, in view of the fact that they possessed an intensely serious side as well as a jocular one, lent themselves admirably to a graver style of Art. After pondering for a moment, Dickens observed that he was "a little tired" of being regarded by his illustrators mainly as a humorist,--a remark, however, which he qualified in a manner that did not at all suggest dissatisfaction with those artists, but implied, rather, that he was not averse to the more solemn incidents in his writings being considered by his pictorial interpreters; his agreement with Mr. Fildes in this respect might well have arisen from what he knew would be the leading characteristic of his last romance (certainly not humorous), which would give scope only to the "serious" artist. The interview resulted in the appointment of Mr. Fildes as illustrator of the forthcoming story, and in a letter to James T. Fields (of Boston, U.S.A.) the novelist said: "At the very earnest representations of Millais (and after having seen a great number of his drawings), I am going to engage with a new man; retaining, of course, C.C.'s [Charles Collins's] cover." So content was Dickens with his choice of this artist, that he could not refrain from expressing his satisfaction to his friends.

  As the date fixed for the publication of the first number of "Edwin Drood" was rapidly approaching, it became necessary that Mr Fildes should immediately begin to prepare his designs. Receiving the proof-sheets of each number, he studied them so diligently and carefully that he allowed no incident or personal trait to escape him. Indeed, Dickens himself (as Mrs. Meynell tells us in The Century of February 1884) was astonished at the way in which his mind found itself mirrored in that of his coadjutor, both as regards the pictorial exactness of inanimate things and the appreciation of individual human character. The artist, however, was at first considerably perplexed in being kept in total ignorance of the plot, as Dickens volunteered no information respecting either the characters or the various parts they played, and although Mr. Fildes was much puzzled, before the plot began to develop, in discovering who was the hero and who the villain of the story, he hesitated to interrogate the novelist, because he surmised that there was a particular motive for his reticence. "He did, at my solicitation," observes Mr. Fildes, "occasionally tell me something--at first charily--for he said it was essential to carefully preserve the 'mystery' from general knowledge to sustain the interest of the book, and later he appeared to have complete confidence in my discretion."

  Dickens, it seems, was seldom in advance with his manuscript, and each number was barely completed in time for the printers, thus necessitating excessive promptitude on the part of the engravers as well as the designer. The subjects of the earlier illustrations were selected by the author, who marked on the proofs the particular incidents to be depicted. In thus trotting after the novelist, the artist experienced a sense of restraint, and felt unable to do himself justice. At length, when Dickens proposed that one of the incidents to be delineated should be that in which John Jasper steals up a winding staircase in absolute darkness with murder on his face, Mr. Fildes courteously protested by pointing out the artistic disadvantages of illustrating such a scene, adding that it was already so graphically recounted that further elucidation became superfluous. Apropos of this, Mr. M. H. Spielmann remarks: "It is curious to observe how Dickens's dramatic sense obtruded itself when arranging for the drawings. He would always wish that scene or tableau to be illustrated on which he had lavished the whole force and art of his descriptive powers--naturally the one that least required or justified illustration." By this time the novelist realised the advisability of leaving the responsibility of selection in the hands of the artist, who thenceforth was relieved of the limitations and restrictions hitherto imposed upon him.

  The requisite consultations between Dickens and his illustrator were invariably held at Hyde Park Place. Whenever practicable, Mr. Fildes made sketches from the life of suitable types for the characters in the story, and was fortunate in securing living models for the principal personages. Over the type of Jasper there was much discussion, the artist making several attempts before he obtained an exact portrait of the choirmaster; and so successful and sympathetic were this and other delineations of character, that Dickens was delighted with them, declaring them to be like veritable photographs of the people themselves. The backgrounds, too, were drawn from actual scenes, as, for example, the opium-smokers' den which figures in the first and last illustrations; this was discovered by the artist somewhere in the East End of London; the exact spot he cannot recall, nor does he believe that Dickens had any particular den in his mind, but merely described from memory the general impression of something of the kind he had observed many years before. The architectural details introduced in the illustration, "Durdles Cautions Mr. Sapsea against Boasting," were drawn from a careful sketch made within the precincts of Rochester Cathedral, although in the published design there is substituted a gateway different from that existing at this spot, in order to assist, no doubt, in promoting the novelist's obvious intention of disguising the identity of "Cloisterham." In the engraving entitled "Good-bye, Rosebud, darling!" it is very easy to recognise the quaint courtyard of Eastgate House in Rochester High Street. In the river scene we obtain a glimpse of Putney Church and of the picturesque wooden bridge which, until a few years ago, spanned the Thames at that point;⁽¹⁾ while in a third illustration, "Under the Trees," the artist availed himself of a sketch (made some time previously) of the cloisters at Chester Cathedral.

  Concerning another of these designs, viz., "Mr. Grewgious Experiences a New Sensation," it may be mentioned that not only was this cosy interior actually drawn from a room in Staple Inn, but that the original of the capacious arm-chair in which Rosa is seated still remains in the artist's possession, it being almost the sole survivor of the furnishing items which formed part of his bachelor establishment.

  It is interesting to learn that Dickens, who placed such great confidence in his illustrator, did not consider it essential that preliminary sketches should be submitted to him. Mr. Fildes's original studies for his designs were vigorously executed with chalk upon tinted paper, the high-lights being emphasized with chinese-white; the finished drawings were made upon paper and then photographed upon boxwood blocks. The engraving was at first entrusted to Dalziel Brothers, one of the best-known firms of wood-engravers of that day, but after the first two engravings were completed, Mr. Fildes intimated to the novelist a wish that the work of reproduction might be transferred to a former colleague of his, Charles Roberts, whereupon Dickens thus wrote to the late Frederick Chapman, of Chapman & Hall: "Mr. Fildes has been with me this morning, and, without complaining of Dalziel, or expressing himself otherwise than as being obliged to him for his care in No. I, represents that there is a brother-student of his, a wood-engraver, perfectly acquainted with his style and well understanding his meaning, who would render him better. I have replied to him that there can be no doubt that he has a claim beyond dispute to our employing whomsoever he knows will present him in the best aspect. Therefore, we must make the change; the rather because the fellow-student in question has engraved Mr. Fildes's most successful drawings hitherto."

  An examination of the illustrations discloses the fact that ten out of the full complement of twelve bear the signature of C. Roberts. In some instances, however, the result is disappointing, for the delicate tone-values which mark the original drawings are not apparent in the reproductions. This defect is chiefly due to the technical difficulties caused by the thick photographic film covering the surface of the wood-blocks, which curled up under the point of the graver; unengraved portions of the picture were thus lost, and the engraver, although carefully copying the missing portions, seldom succeeded in reproducing the characteristic touch of the artist. Mr. Fildes, perhaps, is hypercritical, for those who had not compared the engraved replicas with the original designs were delighted with these decidedly effective illustrations, while Mr. W.P. Frith, R.A., quick to recognise the unusual ability displayed in them, wrote to the novelist complimenting him on securing so facile and graceful an interpreter of his text,--a comment with which Dickens was much gratified. As events proved, Mr. Fildes was as receptive as Dickens was impressive, and "vividly as Dickens saw the creatures of his brain, he saw them no otherwise than as they lived by this quick and sympathetic pencil."

  For reasons already explained, Dickens never wholly confided to his illustrator his intentions respecting the plot of the story. A part of the "mystery," however, was (in a sense) surprised out of him by the keenness and care with which the artist took up a suggestion. Mr. Fildes informs me that it happened in this way: "I noticed in the proof of the forthcoming number a description of Jasper's costume so markedly different from what I had been accustomed to conceive him as likely to wear, that I went at once to Dickens to ask him if he had any special reason for so describing him. It was a matter of a neck-scarf. Whereupon Dickens, after some little cogitating, said he had a reason, and that he wished the scarf to be retained, and, after some hesitation, told me why. He seemed to be rather troubled at my noticing the incident, and observed that he feared he was 'paying out' the 'mystery' too soon, unconsciously doing so; for, he said, he trusted to the 'mystery' being maintained until the end of the book. He seemed to me to think it was essential to do so, and especially enforced me to secrecy respecting anything I knew or might divine. This description of my interview with the novelist on the occasion in question gives, of course, only the sense of what transpired, and I do not pretend to quote exactly any of his words, or any phrase he may have used." The scarf was, in fact, the instrument of murder, employed by Jasper as the means of strangling the young breath of Edwin Drood on the night of the great gale.

  Mr. Luke Fildes having made so shrewd a guess respecting the important part to be played by Jasper in the story, Dickens thought fit to confide in him some details concerning the final scene. Principally, perhaps, with this object in view, he invited the artist to spend a few days with him at Gad's Hill, in order that he might become familiar with the neighbourhood in which many of the scenes in "Edwin Drood" are laid. The novelist promised him that, if he were a good pedestrian, he would introduce him to some of the most charming scenes in Kent, and they would visit together the picturesque Hall at Cobham with its famous gallery of paintings, Cobham Park and village, and other interesting places in that locality. In the course of conversation during this interview, Dickens (who evidently anticipated much enjoyment from the little holiday) recalled that, when a boy, he had seen in Rochester a gaol or "lock-up," and significantly added that Mr. Fildes should make a note of one of the prison cells, which would do admirably to put Jasper in for the last illustration thus pretty clearly foreshadowing the conclusion of the story. "I want you to make as good a drawing," said Dickens, "as Cruikshank's 'Fagin in the Condemned Cell,'"--a suggestion which Mr. Fildes did not approve, as any attempt on his part to treat the subject in the Cruikshankian manner might be resented as an obvious plagiarism, although a comparison of the two designs would have proved interesting.

  It was decreed, alas! that Mr. Fildes's visit to Charles Dickens's "little Kentish freehold" would never be realised while the great writer lived. On the morning of the appointed day, Dickens intended making his usual weekly call at the office of All the Year Round, and was to have been accompanied on his return by Mr. Fildes. That very day, however, the artist (whose luggage was packed ready for departure) took up the newspaper, and was startled to read the melancholy intelligence that Dickens was no more. This terribly sudden death changed everything; but in order to fulfil the novelist's express desire, the artist was invited (after the funeral) to stay with the Dickens family. "It was then," remarks Mr. Fildes, "while in the house of mourning, I conceived the idea of "The Empty Chair," and at once got my colours from London, and made the water-colour drawing a very faithful record of his library."⁽²⁾

  The death of Dickens had an extraordinary effect on Mr. Fildes, for it seemed as though the cup of happiness had been dashed from his lips. Following the example of Mr. Marcus Stone, he decided to abandon black-and-white illustration and direct his entire attention to painting, with what success all the world knows. In 1879 he was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy, and attained full honours eight years later. The first picture that brought him into notice was "Applicants for Admission to a Casual Ward" (exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1874), this being elaborated from The Graphic drawing, "Houseless and Hungry," which, as already described, led to his acquaintance with the author of "Pickwick." While occupied with this important canvas, Mr. Fildes was desired by Forster to call upon him, and, on entering the study, he was interrogated respecting his welfare; for Forster apparently opined that the demise of the novelist, and the consequent termination of his illustration-work for "Edwin Drood," might have caused the young artist some embarrassment. After listening intently to Mr. Fildes's description of the subject he was then painting, Forster suddenly exclaimed, "How very strange! You are exactly depicting a scene witnessed by Dickens himself many years ago. I have just copied his letter referring to it, which has never been out of my possession;" and from an accumulation of papers on his desk (for he was then preparing his biography of the novelist) he abstracted the missive in which the novelist alluded to the unfortunate outcasts as "dumb, wet, silent horrors--sphinxes set up against that dead wall, and none likely to be at the pains of solving them until the general overthrow." Mr. Fildes was so struck by this coincidence, that he sought and obtained permission to quote Dickens's forcible sentence under the title of his picture when printed in the Academy Catalogue.

  Mr. Luke Fildes has many pleasant recollections of Charles Dickens to impart. "He was extremely kind to me," observes the artist, "and, when living in Hyde Park Place, asked me to many of his entertainments. He was almost fatherly, seeming to throw a protecting air over me, and always elaborately introducing me to his guests." The artist still cherishes, as valued mementoes, a little memorandum porcelain slate bound in leather, a quill pen with the blue ink dried upon it, and a square sheet of blue paper, which were given to him by Miss Hogarth, who found them on the novelist's desk just as he had left them.

  When Dickens died, only three numbers of "The Mystery of Edwin Drood" had been published. The illustrations for the ensuing portion of the story, as completed up to the time of his brief but fatal illness, had yet to be executed, and it is interesting to know that the titles for these were composed by the artist. With a view to future numbers, Mr. Fildes had made several drawings in Rochester, including the choir of the Cathedral and the exterior of Eastgate House (i.e. "The Nuns' House"), which were never utilised; he also painted a view of Rochester Castle and Cathedral as seen from the Medway, this being reproduced as a vignette for the engraved title-page. The artist invariably signed his drawings "S.L. Fildes;" but in the vignette here referred to the signature incorrectly appears as "J.L. Fildes."

  It will readily be conceded that Mr. Fildes's illustrations for Dickens's final romance are remarkable for a serious and sound draughtsmanship, while the lifelike delineation of the various characters, as well as the pictorial exactitude of backgrounds and accessories, invite careful study and examination. Without unduly disparaging the excellent etchings by Cruikshank and "Phiz," it must be admitted that there is a vitality appertaining to Mr. Fildes's designs which imparts to them a reality not always discoverable in the illustrations produced by those admirable artists.

(1) By a curious coincidence, this scene is almost identical with that depicted by Seymour on the wrapper for the monthly parts of "Pickwick." <==== BACK

(2) An engraved reproduction of this picture appeared in The Graphic Christmas number, 1870. <==== BACK

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