In Thackeray’s “Newcomes,” the writer had some reminiscences of a place like Eatanswill, for we are told of the rival newspapers, “The Newcome Independent” and “The Newcome Sentinel,” the former being edited by one Potts. These journals assailed each other like their brethren in “Pickwick.” “Is there any man in Newcome except, perhaps, our twaddling old contemporary, the Sentinel,” &c. Doyle’s picture of the election is surely a reminiscence of Phiz’s. There is the same fight between the bandsmen—the drum which someone is kicking a hole in, the brass instrument used, placards, flags, and general mêlée.
Doyle could sketch Forster admirably. Witness the drawing of the travelling party in a carriage, given by Mr. Kitton in his wonderful collection, “Dickens, by pen and pencil,” where he has caught Forster’s “magisterial” air to the life. The picture, “F. B.,” Fred Bayham in the story, is certainly the figure of Forster (vol. ii., pp. 55 and 116.) F. B. is shown both as a critic and pressman, though he has nothing of J. F.’s domineering ways. Again, the waiter, speaking of Lord Highgate, said he was a most harbitrary gent. This refers to the memorable story of Forster being summoned by the cabman who said he did so because “he were such a harbitrary cove.” The truth was, Forster knew the distance to a yard, and would tender the cabman his exact fare and no more. Once, dining with Forster at a hotel in the country where he had rooms, we lit our cigars after dinner, on which the waiter remonstrated, saying it was not allowed. Then I knew the meaning of a “Harbitrary Cove.” How the irate Forster blew him up, roared at him, and drove him out, terrified! It was, indeed, Dowler threatening the coach proprietor.
Thackeray would of course have known the story; he meant a sort of veiled allusion which had or had not a reference. We have the key to this sort of thing in the strange, uncomplimentary reference to Catherine Hayes, the murderess, but which was at once applied to an interesting and celebrated Irish singer of the same name. The author must have anticipated this, and, perhaps, chuckled over the public ignorance, but the allusion was far-fetched. In the same fashion a dramatist once chose to dub one of his characters by my own rather unusual name, on which he protested that he never dreamt of it, that others bore it; still he, however, was obliged to remove it.
Again, on p. 55 we have this passage: “I was thirsty, having walked from “Jack Straw’s Castle,” at Hampstead, where poor Kiteley and I had been taking a chop.” This was written in 1855, only a few years after Forster’s admirable performance of Kiteley with the other amateurs in “Every man in his humour.” “Jack Straw’s Castle,” too, was a regular haunt of Forster and Dickens. It is as certain as anything can be that this allusion was not an accidental one.
III.—Tupman
Tupman’s relations to Mr. Pickwick were somewhat peculiar; he was elderly—about Mr. Pickwick’s age—whereas Winkle and Snodgrass were young fellows under Mr. Pickwick’s guardianship. Over them he could exercise despotic authority; which he did, and secured obedience. It was difficult to do this in the case of his contemporary, Tupman, who naturally resented being “sat upon.” In the incident of the Fête at Mrs. Leo Hunter’s, and the Brigand’s dress—“the two-inch tail,” Mr. Pickwick was rather insulting and injudicious, gibing at and ridiculing his friend on the exhibition of his corpulence, so that Tupman, stung to fury, was about to assault him. Mr. Pickwick had to apologise, but it is clear the insult rankled; and it would appear that Tupman was never afterwards much in the confidence of his leader, and, for that matter, in the confidence of his author. Boz, either consciously or unconsciously, felt this. Tupman, too, never seems to have got over the figure he “cut” in the spinster aunt business, and the loss of general respect.
Still he submitted to be taken about under Mr. Pickwick’s
patronage, but soon the mutual irritation broke out. The occasion was the latter’s putting on speckled stockings for the dance at Manor Farm. “You in silk stockings,” exclaimed Tupman, jocosely; a most natural, harmless remark, considering that Mr. Pickwick invariably wore his gaiters at evening parties. But the remark was hotly resented, and challenged. “You see nothing extraordinary in the stockings as stockings, I trust, sir?” Of course his friend said “No, certainly not,” which was the truth, but Mr. Pickwick put aside the obvious meaning. Mr. Tupman “walked away,” wishing to avoid another altercation, afraid to trust himself; and Mr. Pickwick, proud of having once more “put him down,” assumed his “customary benign expression.” This did not promise well.
In all the Manor Farm jollity, we hear little or nothing of Tupman, who seems to have been thought a cypher. No doubt he felt that the girls could never look at him without a smile—thinking of the spinster aunt. In the picture of the scene, we find this “old Buck” in the foreground, on one knee, trying to pickup a pocket handkerchief and holding a young lady by the hand. Snodgrass and his lady are behind; Winkle and his Arabella on the other side; Trundle and his lady at the fire. Then who was Tupman’s young woman? She is not mentioned in the text, yet is evidently a prominent personage—one of the family. At Ipswich, he was crammed into the sedan chair with his leader—two very stout gentlemen—which could not have increased their good humour, though Tupman assisted him from within to stand up and address the mob. We are told that “all Mr. Tupman’s entreaties to have the lid of the vehicle closed” were unattended to. He felt the ridicule of his position—a sedan chair carried along, and a stout man speaking. This must have produced friction. Then there was the sense of injustice in being charged with aiding and abetting his leader, which Mr. Pickwick did not attempt to clear him from. When Mr. Pickwick fell through the ice, Tupman, instead of rendering help, ran off to Manor Farm with the news of the accident.
Then the whole party went down to Bath and, during their stay there, we have not a word of Tupman. He came to see his friend in the