A subsequent and more complete Drawing of this subject is included in the Duchess of St. Albans' Collection.
Lent by Mr. J. F. Dexter.
In many of the drawings (admirably engraved by S. Williams, Landells, Gray, and Vasey) Browne hardly did himself justice, their exaggerated grotesqueness tending to deprive these little pictorial compositions of much of their artistic value. Observe, for example, the repulsive features of Kit, his mother, and the child in the tenth chapter of "The Old Curiosity Shop," and note how positively diabolical are his representations of Sampson Brass and his sister, and of Dick Swiveller. It is difficult to believe that the terrible-looking creature intended for the Marchioness, in the fifty-seventh and sixty-fifth chapters, would ever have developed into a "good-looking" girl, as she really did, according to the text. It is probably such unpleasing illustrations as these which induced Mr. Frederic Harrison in The Forum to condemn, with exceeding severity, the artist's propensity for caricature; "the grins, the grimaces, the contortions, the dwarfs, the idiots, the monstrosities of these wonderful sketches could not be found in human beings constructed on any known anatomy." Other woodcuts are of course excellent, especially those in which Mr. Pickwick and the Wellers are resuscitated. One of the most striking, however, is the weird water-scape showing the corpse of Quilp washed ashore—a vista of riparian scenery which, for the sense of desolate breadth and loneliness it suggests, it would be difficult to excel. An illustration deserving special examination is the tailpiece for the chapter immediately following the end of "The Old Curiosity Shop," where the artist has depicted Master Humphrey in his arm-chair, surrounded by Lilliputian figures, among which may be recognised some of the principal actors in the story.
A careful comparison of the illustrations with the text of "The Old Curiosity Shop" reveals certain slight inaccuracies on the part of the artist. For example, in the twenty-seventh chapter we read that Quilp leant upon his stick as he beckoned to the boy carrying his trunk, whereas "Phiz" depicts him raising the stick. In the woodcut portraying Kit and his party at Astley's Theatre, the umbrella should be held by Barbara's mother, and not Kit's. Again, in a subsequent chapter, we are told that Sampson Brass's hat was "grievously crushed," but "Phiz" has represented it with the crown suspended by a single thread,—a striking instance of his tendency to exaggeration. The careful reader will also note (in the seventeenth chapter) that the stilt on the right leg of the "young gentleman" in "Grinder's lot" is at least twelve inches shorter than its fellow, and that Mrs. Jarley's horse (in the twenty-sixth chapter) is considerably out of proportion with its surroundings; the caravan, too, is incorrectly drawn, and Mrs. Jarley with the drum should have been placed upon the platform of the van. The inherent humour of "Phiz" was often àpropos, an amusing instance being discoverable in the illustration of Miss Monflathers and her young ladies (in the thirty-first chapter), where the inscription on the board above the wall reads, "Take notice—Man traps."
Although the designs in "Barnaby Rudge" are not entirely exempt from the charge of exaggeration, they are, on the whole, more pleasing. The artist seems to have fairly revelled in the scenes depicting the rioters, and, while failing in his conception of Sir John Chester, he successfully realised the more picturesque figures of Barnaby and Maypole Hugh, the latter being admirably limned. Professor Ruskin, however, in his "Ariadne Florentina," denounces these woodcuts in language more caustic even than that of Mr. Frederic Harrison: "Take up," he says, "for an average specimen of modern illustrated works, the volume of Dickens's 'Master Humphrey's Clock' containing 'Barnaby Rudge.'... The cheap popular Art cannot draw for you beauty, sense, or honesty; and for Dolly Varden, or the locksmith, you will look through the vignettes in vain. But every species of distorted folly or vice ... are pictured for your honourable pleasure on every page, with clumsy caricature, struggling to render its dulness tolerable by insisting on defect." The drawing of Barnaby and the Raven (the final illustration in the second volume) is one of the few the author of this pungent criticism can bring himself to admire. "The raven," he observes, "like all Dickens's animals, is perfect; and I am the more angry with the rest because I have every now and then to open the book to look for him." Respecting these woodcuts, it may be pointed out that Dickens omitted to mention which arm Joe Willet was deprived of "in the defence of the Salwanners." Curiously enough, "Phiz" similarly fails to assist us in deciding the point, as, in the illustrations depicting him after the war, he is seen minus the right arm in four instances, while in another woodcut it is the left which has disappeared.
The frontispieces designed by Browne for the second and third volumes are both elaborate and fanciful. In the first is seen an enormous hour-glass containing a crowd composed of some of the minor characters in the story, while surrounding it are representations of the more prominent persons. It was originally intended that George Cattermole should execute this drawing, but, being prevented by illness, it fell into the hands of "Phiz," who thereupon wrote to the novelist:—
"Sunday Morning.
"My Dear Dickens,—Will you give me some notion of what sort of design you wish for the Frontispiece for second volume of Clock? Cattermole being put hors de combat—Chapman with a careworn face (if you can picture that) brings me the block at the eleventh hour and requires it finished by Wednesday. Now, as I have two others to complete in the meantime, something nice and light would be best adapted to my palette, and prevent an excess of perspiration in the relays of wood-cutters. You shall have the others to criticise on Tuesday.—Yours very truly,
Hablôt K. Browne."
In the frontispiece to the third volume is portrayed an ornamental clock, at the summit of which is seated Master Humphrey, while on either side and at the base are introduced the presentments of Barnaby with his raven and other individuals in the tale. "Phiz" was also responsible for the elaborate design on the wrapper of the weekly numbers.
The following amusing epistle, having reference to the initial letter drawn by "Phiz" for the sixty-fifth chapter, was addressed by Dickens to a member of his publishing firm, Edward Chapman, the "precipice" here mentioned being a humorous allusion to the latter's approaching marriage:—