Volume Ii Part 42 (2/2)

This is the time of year when the theatres do best, there being still numbers of people who make it a sort of religion to see Christmas pantomimes. Having my annual houseful, I have, as yet, seen nothing.

Fechter has neither pantomime nor burlesque, but is doing a new version of the old ”Trente Ans de la Vie d'un Joueur.” I am afraid he will not find his account in it. On the whole, the theatres, except in the articles of scenery and pictorial effect, are poor enough. But in some of the smaller houses there are actors who, if there were any dramatic head-quarters as a school, might become very good. The most hopeless feature is, that they have the smallest possible idea of an effective and harmonious whole, each ”going in” for himself or herself. The music-halls attract an immense public, and don't refine the general taste. But such things as they do are well done of their kind, and always briskly and punctually.

The American yacht race is the last sensation. I hope the general interest felt in it on this side will have a wholesome interest on that.

It will be a woeful day when John and Jonathan throw their caps into the ring. The French Emperor is indubitably in a dangerous state. His Parisian popularity wanes, and his army are discontented with him. I hear on high authority that his secret police are always making discoveries that render him desperately uneasy.

You know how we have been swindling in these parts. But perhaps you don't know that Mr. ----, the ”eminent” contractor, before he fell into difficulties settled _one million of money_ on his wife. Such a good and devoted husband!

My daughter Katie has been very ill of nervous fever. On the 27th of December she was in a condition to be brought down here (old high road and post-horses), and has been steadily getting better ever since. Her husband is here too, and is on the whole as well as he ever is or ever will be, I fear.

We played forfeit-games here, last night, and then pool. For a billiard-room has been added to the house since you were here. Come and play a match with me.

Always affectionately.

[Sidenote: Miss Hogarth.]

ADELPHI HOTEL, LIVERPOOL, _Monday, Jan. 21st, 1867._

MY DEAREST GEORGY,

First I send you my most affectionate wishes for many, many happy returns of your birthday. That done, from my heart of hearts, I go on to my small report of myself.

The readings have produced such an immense effect here that we are coming back for two more in the middle of February. ”Marigold” and the ”Trial,” on Friday night, and the ”Carol,” on Sat.u.r.day afternoon, were a perfect furore; and the surprise about ”Barbox” has been amusingly great. It is a most extraordinary thing, after the enormous sale of that Christmas number, that the provincial public seems to have combined to believe that it _won't_ make a reading. From Wolverhampton and Leeds we have exactly the same expression of feelings _beforehand_. Exactly as I made ”Copperfield”--always to the poorest houses I had with Headland, and against that luminary's entreaty--so I should have to make this, if I hadn't ”Marigold” always in demand.

It being next to impossible for people to come out at night with horses, we have felt the weather in the stalls, and expect to do so through this week. The half-crown and s.h.i.+lling publics have crushed to their places most splendidly. The enthusiasm has been unbounded. On Friday night I quite astonished myself; but I was taken so faint afterwards that they laid me on a sofa at the hall for half an hour. I attribute it to my distressing inability to sleep at night, and to nothing worse.

Scott does very well indeed. As a dresser he is perfect. In a quarter of an hour after I go into the retiring-room, where all my clothes are airing and everything is set out neatly in its own allotted s.p.a.ce, I am ready; and he then goes softly out, and sits outside the door. In the morning he is equally punctual, quiet, and quick. He has his needles and thread, b.u.t.tons, and so forth, always at hand; and in travelling he is very systematic with the luggage. What with Dolby and what with this skilful valet, everything is made as easy to me as it possibly _can_ be, and Dolby would do anything to lighten the work, and does everything.

There is great distress here among the poor (four thousand people relieved last Sat.u.r.day at one workhouse), and there is great anxiety concerning _seven mail-steamers some days overdue_. Such a circ.u.mstance as this last has never been known. It is supposed that some great revolving storm has whirled them all out of their course. One of these missing s.h.i.+ps is an American mail, another an Australian mail.

_Same Afternoon._

We have been out for four hours in the bitter east wind, and walking on the sea-sh.o.r.e, where there is a broad strip of great blocks of ice. My hands are so rigid that I write with great difficulty.

We have been constantly talking of the terrible Regent's Park accident.

I hope and believe that nearly the worst of it is now known.

[Sidenote: Miss d.i.c.kens.]

CHESTER, _Tuesday, Jan. 22nd, 1867._

MY DEAREST MAMIE,

We came over here from Liverpool at eleven this forenoon. There was a heavy swell in the Mersey breaking over the boat; the cold was nipping, and all the roads we saw as we came along were wretched. We find a very moderate let here; but I am myself rather surprised to know that a hundred and twenty stalls have made up their minds to the undertaking of getting to the hall. This seems to be a very nice hotel, but it is an extraordinarily cold one. Our reading for to-night is ”Marigold” and ”Trial.” With amazing perversity the local agent said to Dolby: ”They hoped that Mr. d.i.c.kens _might_ have given them 'The Boy at Mugby.'”

Barton, the gasman who succeeded the man who sprained his leg, sprained _his_ leg yesterday!! And that, not at his work, but in running downstairs at the hotel. However, he has hobbled through it so far, and I hope will hobble on, for he knows his work.

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