On January 5, 1855, he writes to Madame de Chatelain:
“I need scarcely say, I hope, that I shall be most happy to entertain your claim for the Flitch—and though I believe a prior claim has been made, I will gladly give a second prize rather than you should experience any disappointment.” On July 19, 1855, she received the flitch of bacon in the Windmill Field, Dunmore.
In 1856 “Spendthrift” appeared, and in 1857 “Merwyn Clitheroe” which he had begun in 1851 but had abandoned after a few weekly numbers. In 1860 he published “Ovingdean Grange, a Tale of the South Downs.” The two books last mentioned were partly autobiographical.
It is unnecessary to do more than to enumerate his later productions, for although they showed the scrupulous care which he exercised in respect to details and the pains he took to be accurate in historical references, they were never as popular as his earlier works. The list is quite imposing: “Constable of the Tower,” 1861; “The Lord Mayor of London,” 1862; “Cardinal Pole,” 1863; “John Law, the Projector,” 1864; “The Spanish Match, or Charles Stuart in Madrid,” 1865; “Myddleton Pomfret,” 1865; “The Constable de Bourbon,” 1866; “Old Court,” 1867; “The South Sea Bubble,” 1868; “Hilary St. Ives,” 1869; “Talbot Harland,” 1870; “Tower Hill,” 1871; “Boscobel,” 1872; “The Manchester Rebels, or the Fatal ’45.” 1873; “Merry England,” 1874; “The Goldsmith’s Wife,” 1874; “Preston Fight, or the Insurrection of 1715,” 1875; “Chetwynd Calverley,” 1876; “The Leaguer of Lathom, a Tale of the Civil War in Lancashire,” 1876; “The Fall of Somerset,” 1877; “Beatrice Tyldesley,” 1878; “Beau Nash,” 1879; “Auriol and other tales,” 1880; and “Stanley Brereton,” 1881. Not a single one of this long catalogue is now remembered. Percy Fitzgerald in an article in Belgravia (November, 1881), said that the description of Ainsworth’s books in the Catalogue of the British Museum filled no fewer than forty pages. Mr. Axon reduces the number of pages to twenty-three, but that is very extensive. In addition to the prose works whose titles are given above, he published in 1855 “Ballads, Romantic, Fantastical and Humorous,” which was illustrated by Sir John Gilbert and which contains some spirited and picturesque verses; and in 1859 “The Combat of the Thirty,” a translation of a Breton lay of the middle ages, which was included in the later editions of the “Ballads.”
In 1881 Ainsworth was nearly seventy-seven, and approaching the end of his career. On September 15 in that year, the Mayor of Manchester, Sir Thomas Baker, gave a banquet in his honor at the town hall. In proposing the health of the guest, the Mayor said that in the Manchester public free libraries there were two hundred and fifty volumes of his works. “During the last twelve months”, said the Mayor, “those volumes have been read seven thousand six hundred and sixty times, mostly by the artisan class of readers. And this means that twenty volumes of his works are being perused in Manchester by readers of the free libraries every day all the year through.”
A report of this banquet is given as an introduction to “Stanley Brereton”, which was dedicated to the Mayor. I have a copy of the “official” report, a pamphlet of twenty-nine pages, whereof forty copies were printed “for private circulation only”. The speeches are characteristic of English dinners, and some of them are funny without any intention on the part of the speakers. The Mayor rather astonishes us by saying that the six of the most popular works, in the order in which they were most read, were “The Tower of London”, “The Lancashire Witches”, “Old St. Paul’s”, “Windsor Castle”, “The Miser’s Daughter”, and “The Manchester Rebels”. But this was in Manchester. Ainsworth’s response was modest and graceful, and he dwelt upon his delight in being styled “the Lancashire novelist”. His old friend Crossley and Edmund Yates were among the orators of the occasion, the latter responding to the toast of “The Press”, and saying of “after-dinner Manchester” that “even in the midst of enjoyment he would hazard the friendly criticism that though it was eloquent it was not concise.” The account ends with these significant words: “This concluded the list of toasts, and the company shortly afterwards broke up.” One who reads the story of the feast is not surprised at this, for the speeches were enough to break up any company; but the tribute to Ainsworth was well-meant and sincere.
My English friend, the prospective biographer of Ainsworth, takes issue with me on my assertion that his favorite is an author who has fallen into oblivion and whose books are not read by the present generation. He refers of course to English readers, and assures me that the stories are still popular in England. “Routledge”, he says, “issues a vast number of cheap editions of his works, and in addition many other publishing firms have recently issued editions of the better known novels. This has been done by Methuen, Newnes, Gibbings, Mudie, Treherne, and Grant Richards, to mention a few that I recollect at the minute.” It is doubtless true that there is a demand for the tales among the less cultivated English readers, but it can not, I think, be maintained successfully that the author has a permanent and enduring literary fame. Perhaps I am influenced in my opinion by the American lack of acquaintance with Ainsworth and his works.
Contemporaneous memoirs and records are full of testimony to the personal popularity of Ainsworth in the social life of the day. He entertained freely, and was a favorite guest. Dickens and Thackeray were both fond of him, although Blanchard Jerrold, as we have seen, doubted Thackeray’s friendship. Forster says in his Dickens, referring to the period circa 1838, “A friend now especially welcome, too, was the novelist, Mr. Ainsworth, who shared with us incessantly for the three following years in the companionship which began at his house; with whom we visited, during two of these years, friends of arts and letters in his native Manchester, from among whom Dickens brought away his Brothers Cheeryble, and to whose sympathy in tastes and pursuits, accomplishments in literature, open-hearted, generous ways, and cordial hospitality, many of the pleasures of later years are due.” I have a little note of his, addressed to Dickens, saying: “Don’t forget your engagement to dine with me on Tuesday next. I shall send a refresher to Forster the unpunctual.” There is also this letter from Dickens—strangely enough in black ink and not the blue which he employed in later days.
“Devonshire Terrace,
Fifth February, 1841.