Part 2

Dr. Edgar Browne describes his father's indifference to the value of his work, or the time and labour bestowed upon it:--"He never understood the art of husbanding or developing his powers,--he never set to work to learn any technical process; when he had a little leisure from 'illustration' work, he used to start a picture 'to get his hand in'--generally taking some unimportant or trivial subject for this purpose. His facility of hand both in large and minute work was something marvellous. At one time, he produced a very remarkable series of sketches in chalk made during a tour in Ireland. They are scattered now, but are as fine as anything he did, and are certainly the best records of a people who have practically vanished. He was astonishingly careless about his work. Hundreds of original designs were thrown into the waste-paper basket; apart from their local interest similar sketches have found willing purchasers of late years."

Like many other artists whose pecuniary reward had not been commensurate with their ability,[G] he became the recipient of a pension. The kind instrumentality of a few Royal Academicians obtained for him an annual grant which had been previously enjoyed by the late GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

On the 8th of July, 1882, the death occurred of the famous "Phiz." At the quiet village of Hove, near Brighton, where the last few years of his life were spent, he succumbed in his sixty-seventh year to infirmity rather than old age. Almost forgotten as a man, his productions have remained in our memories, and will continue to do so as long as the works of DICKENS and LEVER are read and appreciated. His remains were interred at the extra-mural Cemetery, Brighton. The funeral was private, the only mourners present being the four sons of the deceased, Dr. Ambler, Mr. George Halse,[H] and Mr. Robert Harrison.

As admirers of his artistic ability we place this Memoir as a wreath upon his grave.

CORRESPONDENCE.

The following letters were addressed by the artist-humorist to his son, Mr. Walter Gr. Browne:--

BLENHEIM CRESCENT, _Sept., Saturday, 3 o'clk._ P.M., A.D. _1867_.

_My Dear Dr._,

I have nearly bursted my heart out, and proved, that my soul or soles (I have two) is'nt--or an't--immortal,--by wearing on 'em out running to and fro after yr. _Balmorals_--Bootless errands! The wretched slave (of awl) has but just brought them! I bristle with wrath! and could welt him!--but--no--I won't--he may want his calf's skin whole, to mend his own _Bad-morals_!!

* * * * *

I rush! I fly! to the Gt. W. R. Station!----!!!!

I sink--breathless into the arms of the astounded clerk--point to the boots----

_My-mouth_ faintly whispers "_Wey-mouth_ in his pen-adorned _Ear_!!" and--and--"Bless me! where am _I_?"--and, and--I wish--you may get 'em!

* * * * *

If you visit Portland again, make a note of any peculiarities of spot--convict dress, &c.--as I have a touching bit of horse-y sentiment (!) connected therewith, which will do for _Spg. Gazette_.--I should think you ought to find painty bits--within walking distance--say--right or left ten miles?

* * * * *

Yrs. affecty.,

DAD.

_Sunday._

Really, my dear Walter, I thought you _did_ know better than to disturb my devotional frame of mind on this blessed Sabbath morn by forwarding me such a thoroughly worldly and evil-thought-producing thing as a wretched milliner's bill!!!--The wretch must wait--he gorged L5 not long before I left home.--The greediness of some men!!

The Pic. Gall. circular I return--as you may like to enquire about it--the doz. others, "cheap bacon"--"patent teeth and everlasting gums," &c., &c., &c., &c., &c. I shall manure the grounds of Colyton with ----.

I think you might get some background material for coast scenes down here.

Yr. affec. Dad,

H. K. B.

* * * * *

69, BLENHEIM CRESCENT, NOTTING-HILL, _Saturday_.

MY DEAR DOCTOR,

I send the Tenpounder, may it reach you in safety!

The Commander has returned. I sent you a paper containing the important news, which, however, may _not_ have reached you, although I don't think it contained any remarks upon the "Hemperors personal appearance," &c., &c., &c.

Tom is in the bosom of the family for a few days.--His Pipe is tuned differently now to what it used to was, for he now declareth that St. John's is "a jolly school!" He seems to get on very well indeed, and has brought home what Dr. Lowe calls a "well-earned prize."

He laments daily over the supposed loss of 4_d_ invested in a letter to you--from school--as it was directed, he says,--21, Rue _Mussel wine_--I express doubts of its having reached you--and he groans aloud over the Bull's eyes it _would_ have bought!----

I am (at _present_) _on_ a Sporting Paper--supported by some high and mighty Turf Nobs, but, I fear, like everything I have to do with, now-a-days, it will collapse--for--some of the Proprietors of the Paper are also Shareholders, &c., &c., in the Graphotype Co., so they want to work the two together.--I hate the process--it takes quite four times as long as wood--and I cannot draw and express myself with a nasty little finiking brush, and the result when printed seems to alternate between something all as black as my hat--or as hazy and faint as a worn-out plate.--If on wood, I should like it well enough--as it is--it spoils 4 days a week--leaving little time for anything else. O! I'm a'weary, I'm a'weary! of this illustration business.----

Tom is just off to the R.A., as it is not likely I shall go much before it's close. I will get him to write you a critical description of all the wonderful works in Turps, Varnish, and "Hile."

Yr. affectionate Dad,

H. K. B.

_Monday Morning, 25 m. 40 s. p. 11_ A.M.

MY DEAR WALTER,

There is a man playing "Home, sweet home" upon the key bugle--it is too much for me--my heart yearneth--I feel I must write just a line or two--especially as it is raining hard--and I don't exactly know what to be at.

* * * * *

Splendid effects yesterday evening--sun-set, twilight, crescent moon--stormy clouds,--tide out--reflections--dark fishing-craft--very good--quite the thing for you.

There are no people here at present--decidedly nothing Belgravian--chiefly masculines--from the Saturday to the Monday sort--it striketh me--a few I think have strayed here from Southend--I saw this sort of thing [_see page 29_] on the Grand Promenade--which looks like it.----

There was a great wind yesterday--Boreas had been taking concentrated essence of ginger--It fairly took me off my legs once as I was walking along the cliffs to Broadstairs, luckily for me it blew _off_ the sea--and I was brought up short by some railings in this wise--[_see page 22_] _otherwise_ I should (_no doubt_) have been carried across a 5 acre field of _Cloveria Trifolia Browniensis_.--I am glad to say I was also of service to humanity yesterday--I heard the shrill shrieks of a child and a woman's cry for help behind me--I turned--and saw there was not a moment to lose, the wind had caught a poor child--'s hat (and woman's too) and bore it rapidly to the edge of the cliff--with my usual agility I bounded over the rails fencing the cliff--and saved--yes, saved the child--'s--'at!--another puff and it would have been in the deep, deep sea--the blue, the fresh, &c.--Stout mama thanked me politely, and turning to her husband (who, of course, had come up too late to be of any use--those husbands _always_ do)--she remarked "That the vind had blown both her and her child's 'at hoff and if she'd know'd it--she wouldn't have brought the young-un hout."

I dare say humanity is amusing here when the place is full--there seems a good deal of "os" exercise--and basket-carriage driving on Sundays--which is good to behold--this gentleman [_see page 25_] was driving with supreme self-content--having one rein all snug and tight under his pony's tail--luckily the beast did not seem to have any kick in him--so _perhaps_ he got safe back to Margate.

* * * * *

Yr. affec. Dad,

H. K. B.

* * * * *

_29th Sept. 1868._

MY DEAR DOCTOR,

I have sent you a couple of canvasses--if you put little Clara's head on one of them, you will immortalize her and yourself too.

Also therewith you will find a Surplice, and if you will only "hold forth," next Sunday, in the Grande Place of Colyton--I will guarantee to say that the simplicity of yr. vestment and the flowing eloquence of yr. tongue will draw out--(as irresistibly as the Piper did the children) the congregations of the "High" Church and the Conventicles which will--one and all--rush forth for to see and to hear, and admiringly surround you!--If windy, you might take this for yr. text--"What went ye forth for to see?--" A reed shaken by the wind? &c., &c.

There must have been a splendid _Sea on_ at _Sea-ton_, these last few days,--_tons_ of _sea_, eh? As "I took my walk abroad" this morning--I saw the Serpentine in all its grandeur--and observed several vessels in distress--some clipper yachts on their beam ends--the waves were prodigious--great rollers--two especially--one a six horse fellow--t'other a steamer--crunching and grinding--levelling and sweeping all before them!

Have you seen the Doge of Colyton yet? or any of the Dog-es?

By all means cultivate the acquaintance of the Doge's kinswoman. Miss P---- (pray give my love to her)--fac-similed on the stage or in a novel, she would be a "tremendous hit."

I hope you are not belying the _good_ character I have given of you to the boys--and are doing Elephant, Tiger, and Rhinoceros[I] to their perfect satisfaction--though, considering yr. predecessor--it will test your utmost powers, not to be a wretched failure, possibly--much the same sort of thing--as your attempting to sing a comic song immediately after the Great Vance!!! Good Night,

Yr. affectionate Dad,

H. K. B.

The following notes have been selected from the unpublished correspondence of "Phiz" with CHARLES DICKENS:--

MY DEAR DICKENS,

I have just got one boot on, intending to come round to you, but you have done me out of a capital excuse to myself for idling away this fine morning.--I quite forgot to answer your note, and Mr. Macrone's book has not been very vividly present to my memory for some time past. I think by the beginning of next (week) or the middle (_certain_) I shall have done the plates, but in the scraps of copy that I have I can see but _one good_ subject, so if you know of another pray send it me. I should like "Malcolm" again, if you can spare him.

Believe me,

Yours very truly,

HABLOT K. BROWNE.

Charles Dickens, Esq.

_Sunday, Sept._

MY DEAR DICKENS,

Can you conveniently send me the subject or subjects for next week by Thursday or Friday? as I wish, if practicable, to start for Brussels by the Sunday's boat--a word in reply will oblige,

Yours truly,

HABLOT K. BROWNE.

Charles Dickens, Esq.

P.S.--Upon second thoughts I send you the enclosed epistle--(if you read it, you will find out why)--the writer thereof is "Harry Lorrequer," alias "Charles O'Malley"--to whose house I am going.

H. K. B.

P.S. Second--A fortnight's furlough would suit me better than a week, if it could be managed, as I should like to return by Holland.

MY DEAR DICKENS,

I am sorry I cannot have a touch at battledore with you to-day, being already booked for this evening--but I will give you a call to-morrow _after church_, and take my chance of finding you at home.

Yours very sincerely,

HABLOT K. BROWNE.

Charles Dickens, Esq.

33, HOWLAND STREET.

MY DEAR DICKENS,

I shall be most happy to remember not to forget the 10th April, and, let me express a _dis_interested wish, that having completed and established one "Shop"[J] in an "extensive line of business," you will go on increasing and multiplying such like establishments in number and prosperity till you become a Dick Whittington of a merchant, with pockets distended to most Brobdignag dimensions.

Believe me,

Yours very truly,

HABLOT K. BROWNE.

Charles Dickens, Esq.

I return you the Riots with many thanks.

_Sunday Morning._

MY DEAR DICKENS,

Will you give me some notion of the sort of design you wish for the frontispiece to second vol. of _Clock_?[K] Cattermole being put _hors de combat_--Chapman with a careworn face (if you can picture that) brings me the block at the eleventh hour, and requires it finished by Wednesday. Now as I have two others to complete in the meantime--something nice and _light_ would be best adapted to my _palette_, and prevent an excess of perspiration in the relays of wood-cutters. You shall have the others to criticise on Tuesday.

Yours very truly,

HABLOT K. BROWNE.

Charles Dickens, Esq.

How are Mrs. Dickens and the "Infant?"

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Pronounced _Hab-lo_, after a Monsieur Hablot, a captain in the French army, and a friend of the family.

[B] It was Buss who illustrated Mrs. Trollope's Serial Story, _The Widow Married_, which was published in _The New Monthly Magazine_, 1840.

[C] See _Dombey and Son_, Vol. I, p. 113--"Doctor Blimber's Young Gentlemen."

[D] Leigh Hunt.

[E] Mr. R. Young, who also undertook the precarious task of "biting in" his plates.

[F] Water-colour white.

[G] Publishers frequently availed themselves of his facile pencil, and would instruct him to furnish illustrations for books already in the press, for which he was often inadequately paid.

[H] The Sculptor, and an old coadjutor on _Once a Week_. He is also the author of _A Salad of Stray Leaves_ now in the press, which contains a frontispiece by "Phiz," the last design from his pencil. This he executed under some difficulties, for owing to an attack of rheumatism in his hands, the design--teeming with fancy--had to be made on a large scale, and afterwards reduced by the process of photography.

[I] A favourite game with the children.

[J] _The Old Curiosity Shop._

[K] _Master Humphrey's Clock._

A LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL WORKS ILLUSTRATED BY "PHIZ."

To enumerate all the works illustrated by "Phiz" would be a next to impossible task, for "their name is legion." No artist was so popular or so prolific as a book-illustrator, with the exception, perhaps, of George Cruikshank. It may fairly be questioned whether the works of Charles Dickens, with which the name of "Phiz" is most intimately associated in our minds, would have achieved such notoriety without the aid of the etching needle so ably wielded. Mr. John Hollingshead, in his essay on Dickens, says:--

"The greater the value of a book as a literary production, the more will the circle of its influence usually be narrowed. The very shape, aspect, and garments of the ideal creatures who move through its pages, even when drawn by the pen of the first master of fiction in the land, will be faint and confused to the blunter perception of the general reader, unless aided by the attendant pencil of the illustrative artist. For the sharp, clear images of Mr. Pickwick, with the spectacles, gaiters, and low crowned hat--of Sam Weller, with the striped waistcoat and the artful leer--of Mr. Winkle, with the sporting costume and the foolish expression--more persons are indebted to the caricaturist, than to the faultless descriptive passages of the great creative mind that called the amusing puppets into existence."

It was not the fame of Dickens only that was enhanced by "Phiz," for the numerous illustrations in the works of Charles Lever, Harrison Ainsworth, the brothers Mayhew, and a host of minor novelists were executed by his unwearied hand. It was Dickens, however, who introduced him to public notice, in a pamphlet, now very scarce, entitled _Sunday under Three Heads_, embellished with four delicately executed engravings drawn by "H. K. B."

It was his succession to Seymour as the illustrator of the _Pickwick Papers_, that really excited public interest in the youthful artist, who created, pictorially, the second hero in the work, the inimitable Samuel Weller. Those who are familiar with the original edition of the _Pickwick Papers_ will remember with some amusement, the artist's introduction of the indefatigable "Boots," as represented in the yard of the "White Hart" Inn, Borough. The identical Inn exists at the present day. "Mr. Pickwick in the Pound" is another amusing plate, where the laughing, jeering crowd of spectators crowned by a jubilant and juvenile chimney sweeper, the braying of a jackass in the ears of the astonished hero, who sits somewhat uncomfortably in a wheelbarrow, are incidents so cleverly depicted as to excite unqualified admiration. "Mr. Pickwick Slides" is another truly artistic production. The delicate execution of the extreme distance where is seen a manor house of the olden time nestling amongst the trees, and a farmyard hard by, leaves nothing to be desired. Mr. Sala somewhat harshly criticises the illustrations in this work, which, he says, "were exceedingly humorous, but vilely drawn. The amazing success of his author seems, however, to have spurred the artist to sedulous study, and to have conduced in a remarkable degree towards the development of his faculties. A surprising improvement was visible in the frontispieces to the completed volumes[L] of _Pickwick_." Undoubtedly faults exist, but to characterize the illustrations as "vile," seems too severe a term, for after all, the exaggerated types of face, form, and feature, do but harmonize with the somewhat exaggerated descriptions of them by the author. This defect, if such it can be called, was remedied considerably in his later productions.

In 1837, "Phiz" accompanied Dickens into Yorkshire, there to gather material for _Nicholas Nickleby_, a work which exposes the tyranny practised by some schoolmasters on their helpless pupils. In this book, published in 1839, is presented to us the despicable "Squeers," which type of brute in human form was so successfully realized by both Author and Artist, that the indignation of innumerable Yorkshire pedagogues was raised to threats of legal proceedings, for traducing their characters, one of them actually stating that "he remembered being waited on last January twelvemonth by two gentlemen, one of whom held him in conversation while the other took his likeness." The most familiar representation of "Squeers" is seen in the second plate, where he stands sharpening his pen, and is timorously approached by the stout father of two wizen-faced boys who are about to become his pupils. The face of the schoolmaster, in which are combined hypocrisy and cruelty, and the expression of sympathy for the new comers exhibited by the boy on the trunk, are worthy of the closest inspection. The effect of the school treatment at Dotheboy's Hall is visible in the illustration where "The Internal Economy" is depicted. Here we see the starveling lads during and after the "internal" application of superabundant doses of brimstone and treacle, administered by Squeers' worthy partner. The eighth plate happily depicts the wild excitement of the pupils when "Nicholas astonishes Mr. Squeers and family" by making a furious attack on the former with the cane; as well as "The breaking-up at Dotheboy's Hall," where the boys revenge themselves on their former tormentors. There are two more etchings in this volume especially remarkable as artistic productions, viz., "Mr. and Mrs. Mantalini in Ralph Nickleby's Office," where the expression of an intent listener on the face of Ralph, and of horror on that of Mantalini, is capitally rendered; and the plate entitled "The Recognition," which shows poor Smike in the act of rising from a couch of sickness as he recognizes "Broker," who had conveyed him as a child to school.

_Master Humphrey's Clock_, written in 1840-1, includes the stories of the _Old Curiosity Shop_ and _Barnaby Rudge_ which have been happily termed "two unequalled twin fictions upon one stem." The illustrations were drawn on wood by H. K. Browne and George Cattermole, and the former created, pictorially, Little Nell, Mrs. Jarley, Quilp, Dick Swiveller, the Marchioness, Sally Brass, and her brother Sampson. "Phiz" revelled in wild fun in the vignettes relating to the devilries of Mr. Daniel Quilp and the humours of Codlin and Short, and of Mrs. Jarley's waxwork show. His "Marchioness" was a distinct comic creation; but in the weird waterscape, showing the corpse of Quilp washed ashore, he sketched a vista of riparian scenery which, in its desolate breadth and loneliness, has not since, perhaps, been equalled, save in the amazing suggestive Thames etchings of Mr. James Whistler. To be sure, Hablot Browne was stimulated to excellence during the continuance of the _Old Curiosity Shop_ by the friendly rivalry of the famous water-colour painter, George Cattermole, who drew the charming vignettes of the quaint old cottages and school-house and church of the village where "Little Nell" died. In _Barnaby Rudge_, however, Hablot Browne had things graphic his own way, and again towards the close he manifested genuine tragic power. His "Barnaby with the Raven" is lovely in its picturesque grace.[M] When the first cheap series of this work was published, plates by H. K. Browne were issued, which are now so scarce, that they are often catalogued at eight or ten times their original price.

Two years after the visit of Dickens to America in 1842, _Martin Chuzzlewit_ was published, the illustrations to which excel in vigour all the previous efforts of "Phiz." Here we are brought face to face, in a pictorial sense, with the hypocrite, Mr. Pecksniff, the _abstemious_ Mrs. Gamp and her bosom friend, Betsy Prig, simple Tom Pinch and his charming sister, Ruth. The frontispiece is a most ambitious work, but none the less successful, for "Phiz" has represented, in the space of a few square inches, all the leading events, humorous and pathetic, described in the novel. In the illustration where Mark Tapley is seen starting from his native village for London, "Phiz" exhibits his sense of the picturesque in the old gables and dormers of the cottages which form the background. The plate, "Mr. Pecksniff on his Mission," is full of interest, and gives us an insight into the character of Kingsgate Street, Holborn, at that time. The female neighbours of Mrs. Gamp, the midwife, flock round Pecksniff, commiserating with him on his supposed domestic cares, and advising him to "knock at the winder, Sir; knock at the winder. Lord bless you, don't lose no more time than you can help--knock at the winder!"