Several months before the great visitor’s arrival his coming was heralded by his business agent, of whom Mrs. Fields wrote:—
August 14, 1867.—Mr. Dolby arrived today from England (Mr. Dickens’s agent), a good, healthy, kindly natured man of whom Dickens seems really fond, having followed him to the steamer in Liverpool from London to see that all things were comfortably arranged for him. He says Dickens has lamed one of his feet with too much walking of late. He is here to arrange for 100 nights, for which he hears he may receive $200,000; the readings to begin the first of December and to be chiefly given in New York City.
August 15, 1867.—Our day was quiet enough, but when J. came down, he held us quite spellbound and magnetized all the evening with his account of Dickens, which Mr. Dolby had given him. He says Dolby himself is a queer creature when he talks. He has a stutter which leads him to become suddenly stately in the middle of a homely phrase and to give a queer intonation to his voice, so that he did not dare look at Osgood (who was a listener also) lest they should both explode with laughter.
Dickens now has five dogs; for these the cook prepares daily five plates of dinner. One day the plates were all ready when a small pup stole in and polished off the five plates. He fainted away immediately, and in this condition was discovered by the cook, who put him under the pump and revived him; but he had been going about looking like the figure 8 ever since.
Dickens is a warm friend of Fechter. One day, returning from a reading tour, his man met him at the station saying, “The fifty-eight boxes have come, sir.” “What?” said Mr. Dickens. “The fifty-eight boxes have come, sir.” “I know nothing of fifty-eight boxes,” said the other. “Well, sir,” said the man, “they are all piled up outside the gate and we shall soon see, sir.” They proved to be a Swiss chalet complete, handles, blinds, not a bit wanting, which Fechter had sent him. It is put up in a grove near the house, where it presents a very picturesque effect.
Dickens allows nothing to escape his attention and gives “one small corner of the white of one eye” to his household concerns, though he seems not to observe. His daughter Mary has the governance of the servants, Miss Hogarth of the cellar and provisions. There is a system in everything with which he has to do. When he gives a reading, he is present in the hall at half-past six, although the reading does not begin until eight; for Dickens cannot go about as other people do, he must go when the people do not press upon him. On reaching the private room, his servant brings his evening dress, reading desk, screen, lamps, when he arranges the hall, examines the copper gas-tubes to see if in order, dresses himself and is ready to begin. In Liverpool the other night he had advertised to read “Sergeant Buzfuz,” instead of which by accident he read “Bleak House.” Mr. Dolby spoke to him as soon as he had finished, telling him the mistake he had made. He at once returned to the desk, and said, “My friends, it is half-past ten o’clock and you see how tired I am, but I will still read Sergeant Buzfuz’s speech if you expect it.” “No, no,” the crowd shouted; “you’re tired. No, no, this ought to do for tonight.” One tall man raised himself up in the gallery and said, “Look here, we came to hear Pickwick and we ought to hef it.” “Very well, my friend,” replied Dickens, immediately, “I will read Sergeant Buzfuz for your accommodation solely”; and thereat he did read it to a breathless and delighted audience.
“THE TWO CHARLES’S” (CHARLES DICKENS AND CHARLES FECHTER).
From a Humorous Drawing by Alfred Bryan, 1879.