As I poured forth a string of enthusiastic suggestions the dear old gentleman listened calmly and quietly, gazing through his gold spectacles in wonderment at my volubility.
“Not a bad idea,” he remarked.
Several interviews were the result, and not long afterwards the Pension Fund of the Society of Authors was formed, under the able Chairmanship of Mr. Anthony Hope. On the Original Committees of which I served, and still serve.
Besant was a real practical help to young writers. Quaint, old-fashioned, and prim, he addressed even his best friends as “Madam.” The following letter is in connection with a further pension for Mrs. Riddell, which I was then endeavouring to procure from the Civil List, and did afterwards succeed in obtaining from Mr. Balfour:
“Dear Madam,
“The way to get a (Civil List) pension is to ask for it. You must draw up a petition setting forth the exact circumstances of the case, and get this signed by as many people of name and position as you can, or—what is perhaps better—get it signed by a few whose names command attention. If your friend is a member of our society, I will undertake the petition and the signatures of a good many known names. Remember that W. H. Smith, in administering these pensions, is under the fixed belief that novelists are an extravagant race who spend in luxury the enormous sums their publishers allow them. Word your petition, therefore, so as to show that your friend was never in receipt of his imaginary fabulous income.
“I remain, dear madam,
“Very sincerely yours,
“Walter Besant.”
No man did more for writers than Walter Besant. He raised their status, he demanded more pay for their products, he attempted to make a copyright with America; and the present-day position of authors, unsatisfactory though it is, is a thousand times better than it was before Sir Walter Besant took the matter up and maintained that literary wares were property, and as such should be treated legally. I merely quote this letter to show the kindness of heart of the man, and how even the busiest people find time to do a good deed. He wrote:
“Dear Mrs. Tweedie,
“Your little book looks very nice. I hope it will go. Publishers work by a regular method. Their travellers offer the book to booksellers, who take at first what they think they can sell. Then reviews—nature of the subject—the reputation which a book quickly gets—cause or do not cause—a demand, and so the book succeeds or fails. I hate to discourage people, but I have always entreated you not to expect too much. This only on the general principle that most books fail.