[5] To the rabid bibliophile I here present another variation, which has hitherto escaped the bookseller. In the first edition, on p. 453, will be found the misprint “Mr.” (for “Sir”) Pitt and Lady Jane Crawley.
[6] It does not appear amongst the illustrations to the biographical edition, which are restricted to the full-page plates.
What was the reason for its sudden removal immediately after publication? As I have said above, it is commonly stated to have been in consequence of a threatened action for libel, of course on account of the undoubted likeness of the “Marquis of Steyne” to the third Marquis of Hertford. But how does this tally with facts? Lord Hertford had died in 1842, whilst the first number of Vanity Fair did not appear until 1847. Now every lawyer knows that you cannot libel a dead man. This was made clear some few years ago (I think) in the case of the Duke of Vallombrosa against a well-known English journalist. Therefore it is quite certain that, although legal proceedings might have been threatened, they would certainly have collapsed. {17} Further than that, those who knew the fourth Marquis are aware that he was the last man in the world to embark upon a lawsuit or court publicity in any way. And if any doubt upon the matter should still remain, I am able to state positively that no trace is to be discovered amongst the Hertford family papers of any action threatened or brought against Thackeray on any grounds whatsoever. I think, then, that we may dismiss once for all this aspect of the case.
At the same time it is not impossible that some hint may have reached the novelist’s ears that the illustration gave pain to persons then living, and that he promptly had it removed. But against this view there is a very strong presumption. If we turn the leaves of our original issue of Vanity Fair, we shall, on p. 421, find another wood engraving, and opposite p. 458 a full-page steel engraving, “The Triumph of Clytemnestra,” both containing portraits of “The Marquis of Steyne.” Now, considering that that nobleman’s august features are as recognisable in these as in the suppressed engraving, it seems unreasonable to suppose that the one would have been removed {18} without the others, in consequence of family representations.
Possibly the real truth of the matter is a very much simpler one. It may have been either that Thackeray was himself disgusted with the brutal frankness of the picture when he saw it printed, and insisted on its removal, or that the block met with some accident. Indeed, I am inclined to think, judging from my memory of the subject, that the idea of an action for libel is one that has only found expression in more modern booksellers’ catalogues. If I am not mistaken, the older booksellers used to speak of the engraving not as “suppressed,” but as “extremely rare,” and that it was supposed to have disappeared from later issues because it was broken before many impressions were taken. Of course, a threatened action for libel, on account of its striking likeness to a member of the aristocracy, added piquancy to the affair, and so redounded to the benefit of the vendor of the earliest issue of a first edition; and the identification of Lord Steyne’s prototype, in the letterpress, gave colour to the idea. Once set going, we may be certain that {19} the legend would not be allowed to lapse for lack of advertisement. To adapt what Dr. Johnson said of the “Countess,” “Sir,” said he to Boswell, “in the case of a (marquis) the imagination is more excited.”
The accompanying portraits of the third and fourth Marquises of Hertford give the reader an opportunity of forming his own opinion in the matter of identity. That of the third Marquis is from the engraving by William Holl of the painting by Sir Thomas Lawrence, and certainly seems to suggest, in the prime of life, the features and expression which Thackeray has portrayed in old age. The bald head, and the arrangement of the whiskers—which are allowed to approach the corners of the mouth—are incontestable points of resemblance; and if the old voluptuary is somewhat more battered than Lawrence’s rather spruce model, we must remember that his portrait was painted by the courtly President of the Royal Academy many years before the period of life at which he is introduced to us by the novelist. Certainly he is not an attractive object; and I was amused to receive a letter from a member of the family to whom I first showed the wood {20} engraving in which these words occur: “I find we have no portrait whatever of the Lord Hertford in question, and am not surprised at it if he at all resembled that of the Marquis in Vanity Fair!”[7]
As regards the fourth Marquis, it is a curious fact that, notwithstanding his vast wealth, and his tastes as an artist and connoisseur, no painted or engraved portrait of him is known. The photograph here reproduced is the only counterfeit presentment extant, and is enough, if further evidence were needed, to dispose for ever of the idea that he was the prototype of the Marquis of Steyne. It is hardly necessary to remind the reader that it is to him, through Sir Richard and Lady Wallace, that the nation owes a debt of gratitude for the splendid collection now housed in perpetuity in Hertford House.[8]
[7] This is the description of the Marquis in Coningsby: “Lord Monmouth was in height above the middle size, but somewhat portly and corpulent; his countenance was strongly marked: sagacity on the brow, sensuality in the mouth and jaw; his head was bald, but there were remains of the rich brown hair on which he once prided himself. His large, deep blue eye, madid, and yet piercing, showed that the secretions of his brain were apportioned half to voluptuousness, half to common sense.” This might well pass as a description of the Thackeray drawing.
[8] Just before Lady Wallace’s death, an examination of the Hertford House library failed to discover a first edition of Vanity Fair, in which I fancied some note might possibly have been found. This was probably due to the fact that a large number of the Hertford books were destroyed in the Pantechnicon fire.
