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Thackery’s "Esmond"
by
Mr. Eyre Crowe, A.R.A., who accompanied Thackeray to the United States, and had for some time previously been acting as his “factotum and amanuensis,” has recorded several interesting details with regard to the writing of Esmond, To most readers it will be matter of surprise, and it is certainly a noteworthy testimony to the author’s powers, that this attempt to revive the language and atmosphere of a vanished era was in great part dictated. It has even been said that, like Pendennis, it was all dictated; but this it seems is a mistake, for, as we shall see presently, part of the manuscript was prepared by the author himself. As he warmed to his work, however, he often reverted to the method of oral composition which had always been most congenial to him, and which explains the easy colloquialism of his style. Much of the “copy” was taken down by Mr. Crowe in a first-floor bedroom of No. 16 Young Street, Kensington, the still-existent house where Vanity Fair had been written; at the Bedford Hotel in Covent Garden; at the round table in the Athenasum library, and elsewhere. “I write better anywhere than at home,”–Thackeray told Elwin,–“and I write less at home than anywhere.” Sometimes author and scribe would betake themselves to the British Museum, to look up points in connection with Marlborough’s battles, or to rummage Jacob Tonson’s Gazettes for the official accounts of Wynendael and Oudenarde. The British Museum, indeed, was another of Esmond’s birthplaces. By favour of Sir Antonio Panizzi, Thackeray and his assistant, surrounded by their authorities, were accommodated in one of the secluded galleries. “I sat down,”–says Mr. Crowe–“and wrote to dictation the scathing sentences about the great Marlborough, the denouncing of Cadogan, etc., etc. As a curious instance of literary contagion, it may be here stated that I got quite bitten, with the expressed anger at their misdeeds against General Webb, Thackeray’s kinsman and ancestor; and that I then looked upon Secretary Cardonnel’s conduct with perfect loathing. I was quite delighted to find his meannesses justly pilloried in Esmond’s pages.” What rendered the situation more piquant,–Mr. Crowe adds,–all this took place on the site of old Montague House, where, as Steele’s “Prue” says to St. John in the novel,” you wretches go and fight duels.”[2]
Note:
[2] With Thackeray in America, 1893, p. 4.
Those who are willing to make a pilgrimage to Cambridge, may, if they please, inspect the very passages which aroused the enthusiam of Thackeray’s secretary. In a special case in the Library of Trinity College, not far from those which enclose the manuscripts of Tennyson and Milton, is the original and only manuscript of Esmond, being in fact the identical “copy” which was despatched to the press of Messrs. Bradbury and Evans at Whitefriars. It makes two large quarto volumes, and was presented to the College (Esmond’s College!) in 1888 by the author’s son-in-law, the late Sir Leslie Stephen. It still bears in pencil the names of the different compositors who set up the type. Much of it is in Thackeray’s own small, slightly-slanted, but oftener upright hand, and many pages have hardly any corrections.[3] His custom was to write on half-sheets of a rather large notepaper, and some idea may be gathered of the neat, minute, and regular script, when it is added that the lines usually contain twelve to fifteen words, and that there are frequently as many as thirty-three of these lines to a page. Some of the rest of the “copy” is in the handwriting of the author’s daughter, now Lady Ritchie; but a considerable portion was penned by Mr. Eyre Crowe. The oft-quoted passage in book ii. chap. vi. about “bringing your sheaves with you,” was written by Thackeray himself almost as it stands; so was the sham Spectator, hereafter mentioned, and most of the chapter headed “General Webb wins the Battle of Wynendael.” But the splendid closing scene,–“August 1st, 1714,”–is almost wholly in the hand of Mr. Crowe. It is certainly a remarkable fact that work at this level should have been thus improvised, and that nothing, as we are credibly informed, should have been before committed to paper.[4]