Dickensians! discussion

THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT - Fifth Thread: Chapters 44 - 54 (end)



- "Ruth Pinch Makes a Pudding" - Harold Copping - 1924 (colour lithography)

This thread will be for the final four installments, beginning with Chapter 45. It will be hosted by Jean.

The timetable and links for this thread are here:

[XVII]
10 Nov: Chapter 45
11 Nov: Chapter 46, part I
12 Nov: Chapter 46, part II
13 Nov: Chapter 47
---
14 Nov: Free day
---
[XVIII]
15 Nov: Chapter 48
16 Nov: Chapter 49
17 Nov: Chapter 50
---
18 Nov: Free day
---
[XIX–XX]
19 Nov: Chapter 51, part I
20 Nov: Chapter 51, part II
21 Nov: Chapter 52, part I

22 Nov: Chapter 52, part II
23 Nov: Chapter 53
24 Nov: Chapter 54

Installment 17:

Chapter 45: In Which Tom Pinch and His Sister Take a Little Pleasure; but Quite in a Domestic Way, and with No Ceremony About It

Tom and Ruth think about the incident at the wharf all day while they go about their respective work. They agree that Tom should always come out of the Temple the same way, past the fountain. Then when he comes through Fountain Court, if he glances down the steps leading into Garden Court, he will be able to see Ruth by the fountain, if she is able to meet Tom after work. They both look forward to this.

One day though, the narrator says perhaps Ruth is a little earlier or a little later than usual, because she sees Mr. Westlock instead. Blushing, she tries to run off:

“The brown hair that had fallen down beneath her bonnet, and had one impertinent imp of a false flower clinging to it, boastful of its licence before all men, that could not have been the cause, for it looked charming. Oh! foolish, panting, frightened little heart, why did she run away!”

but Mr. Westlock follows her and talks to her.



“Ruth and Westlock in Fountain Court” - Harry Furniss - 1910

Both are shyly happy, but Ruth is bashful in his company.



“John Westlock and Ruth Pinch” - Sol Eytinge, Jr. - 1867 (wood-engraving)

John Westlock, entranced by her, suggests they wait for Tom together. Ruth sees Tom appear:

“He was staring about him, as usual, in all directions but the right one; and was as obstinate in not looking towards them, as if he had intended it.”

When it is evident that Tom has not seen them and is about to walk home, John runs over to catch him, and Ruth follows. The narrator has several times described the fountain as reflecting Ruth’s youthful prettiness and joy, and here we read:

“Merrily the fountain plashed and plashed, until the dimples, merging into one another, swelled into a general smile, that covered the whole surface of the basin.”

Tom is astonished:

“‘What an extraordinary meeting!’ said Tom. ‘I should never have dreamed of seeing you two together here.’
‘Quite accidental,’ John was heard to murmur.“

Tom agrees, and is delighted.

“Merrily the fountain leaped and danced, and merrily the smiling dimples twinkled and expanded more and more, until they broke into a laugh against the basin’s rim, and vanished.”

John Westlock invites Tom and Ruth Pinch to dine with him, talking modestly about his bachelor apartment. But Tom tells his sister that it is not at all like that: “He is the most tremendous fellow, in his housekeeping, that I ever heard of, for a single man” and laughing, they agree to accept.

As they walk, John talks teasingly about Mary’s pudding from before, and it becomes evident that she had used the wrong ingredients. But it is all so amiable and pleasant. and John tries so hard to flatter Ruth, that they all get along very well indeed.

John’s rooms are very well appointed, and he has fresh flowers for Ruth to adorn herself with. The quality of the food, and the meals he has sent in and served are just as sumptuous as Tom had boasted of to his sister, and his servant is very educated and attentive.

During their meal, Tom tells John about what happened on the wharf, whereupon:

“his friend was very much surprised, and took such a great interest in the narrative as Tom could not quite understand … Tom had been sure of his taking some interest in the matter; but was not prepared for the strong interest he showed. It held John Westlock to the subject even after Ruth had left the room; and evidently made him anxious to pursue it further than as a mere subject of conversation.”

Tom says that he intends to ask their landlord about the letter, though he does not know whether he had been aware of its contents, and thinks it unlikely that the landlord will explain anything. He says that he also plans to visit Merry, and tell her how he came to be involved in the incident. John approves of this, as:

“‘whatever the business is, there is little good in it; … I would counsel you to see her husband, if you can, and wash your hands of it by a plain statement of the facts. I have a misgiving that there is something dark at work here, Tom. I will tell you why, at another time; when I have made an inquiry or two myself.’
All this sounded very mysterious to Tom Pinch.“

After dinner, Tom sits down at the piano and begins to play. John sits beside Ruth and seems besotted with her. Tom invites Ruth to sing, and John encourages her as well. Eventually they say goodnight and John says he will walk with them, despite Tom saying there is no need:

“Happy time, happy walk, happy parting, happy dreams! …
Busily the Temple fountain murmured in the moonlight, while Ruth lay sleeping, with her flowers beside her; and John Westlock sketched a portrait—whose?—from memory.“

Well if we were hoping to have some kind of resolution about Jonas, we might be disappointed here. But this is the sort of charming chapter Charles Dickens does so well. It’s a tribute to hearth and home, and good fellowship, as well as another eulogy to his much mourned sister-in-law Mary Hogarth, thinly disguised as Ruth Pinch. The writing is unashamedly sentimental, and designed to put a smile on the face of his Victorian readers (and perhaps us).

Dare I choose one of these as my favourite quotation? (Yes 🥰)

“Merrily the fountain plashed and plashed, until the dimples, merging into one another, swelled into a general smile, that covered the whole surface of the basin.”

We can regard this chapter as a filler if we like, to bridge the different strands of this wide-ranging novel, and give relief from the tense foreboding of installment 16. But it does move the plot on just a little, when we see how smitten Ruth and John are becoming with each other.

Also it’s interesting to see that although Tom and Ruth do not know Mrs. Gamp, we are reminded that John Westlock does. Moreover, he is suspicious that there are dark deeds connected with the scene on the wharf. Should we be too?

I look forward to your thoughts.

Do you know that Ruth's recipe was the source of a controversy of sorts? :) One of the readers noted the missing ingredient and wrote to Charles Dickens, which is probably why Dickens inserted this teasing by John in this later chapter. But the best part is that the following year, a cookbook was published that included the recipe for 'Ruth Pinch's celebrated pudding', or 'pudding à la Dickens' :)

This chapter was certainly sentimental, but did make for a wonderful bridge. I love the pudding recipe story, Plateresca!

And speaking of recipes, I was taken with something kind of silly, but I'll share it anyway. In the description of their dinner, one of the items was "innocent young potatoes." Is this a common description? I assume these are what I know as new potatoes, and I just loved the idea of calling them "innocent." 😊

It was good to read a gentle chapter. The meeting of John and Ruth was a perfect antidote to the hurly-burly of the previous couple of chapters.

Their meeting was kind and gentle and the location called ‘Garden Court’ very appropriate. For young lovers it was an ideal place. As Tom said ‘Such an out-of-the-way place for you to have met in … Such an unlikely spot.’ Who cannot smile when reading those lines?

Garden Court is very different than the sought after and then horribly disappointing place called Eden where Martin and Mark once found themselves. The awkward and blundering courtship attempt of Pecksniff towards Mary was very distressing as well.

Mark and Martin have escaped Eden and Mary has been able to continue to reject Pecksniff’s advances. Added to that is the fact Martin has returned and is now with Mary and Mark and Mrs. Lupin seem to be courting as well.

I can’t wait to find out what Dickens has in store for Pecksniff.

I absolutely adore these illustrations. The first is exactly how I would envision these two people, and I like this rendering of Tom so much, because it has personality. He is not handsome, but so appealing! You can sense kindness and contentment in how he is relaxed in the chair and just watching her chatter to him.

I found the description of the “innocent potatoes” quite unusual like Kathleen! And one other word I’ve noticed several instances that was unfamiliar to me when they were laughing and then “there were divers compliments from John Westlock.

I am happy to be caught up and am nervous to know what is to become of Montague and Jonas. Well, at least very much wondering how Disckens is going to resolve Jonas’ losing his mind.

These sentimental chapters are my favorite.

I enjoyed this chapter too. Loved the way Johnhad devised a way to "unexpectedly" meet Ruth and then Tom and then invite them to dinner.

My one question, who was "the fiery-faced matron in the crunched bonnet" that Ruth reports rebuffed her attempts at conversation? Was this a housekeeper?

Sue wrote: "My one question, who was "the fiery-faced matron in the crunched bonnet" that Ruth reports rebuffed her attempts at conversation? Was this a housekeeper?"

I'm taking her as a paid employee (housekeeper? Victorian equivalent of a caterer?) whose services will no longer be needed if John Westlock acquires a housewife. Hmmm...

I'm in agreement with everyone enjoying this pleasant break of a scene.

I hope I don't ruin it by drawing attention to this extremely odd comparison. Here's Tom laughing over the pudding on his walk to John's, and John and Ruth, as they are walking:

left him to have his laugh out by himself; which he had, and then came dodging across the crowded street to them, with such sweet temper and tenderness (it was quite a tender joke of Tom’s) beaming in his face, God bless it, that it might have purified the air, though Temple Bar had been, as in the golden days gone by, embellished with a row of rotting human heads.

What an incongruously jolting analogy! But In a way maybe it is fitting, since Tom and Ruth in chapters like these purify the air, even though we know, as John comments later, that something bad is up.

That's a lovely story about the pudding, thanks Plateresca.

Kathleen - yes another amazing example of personification by Mr. D. I can quite see those “innocent” potatoes as a sort of cartoon in my mind’s eye (they look wide-eyed and have haloes!) 😆

Peter - Great contrast between Garden Court and Eden! Our ideas of Nature tamed, and Nature at its most ugly and threatening.

I love Harold Copping’s water-colours too, Sara. We can see why he was drawn to Biblical illustrations I think. He only produced 3 for Martin Chuzzlewit in fact, and I think the first two (both used as covers for these threads) are just perfect. The next one I’ll share in a day or so.

Those potatoes seem to have tickled several people’s fancy Lori 🤣. Though I think that particular use of divers was just the archaic spelling of “diverse” - meaning that John was paying various different compliments to Ruth.

Sue - I agree with Julie about the matron - though who knows what their domestic arrangements might be if they marry. Mostly at this time food was sent in, as not many people had their own ovens (see our side read of The Victorian City: Everyday Life in Dickens' London by Judith Flanders).

And Julie - that is an excellent point about the foreshadowing of something bad. I feel sure Charles Dickens deliberately used this historical image to instil a sense of doom.

In historical London, the heads of executed traitors were publicly displayed on spikes primarily on top of the In historical London, the heads of executed traitors were publicly displayed on (or spikes) primarily on top of the gatehouse on London Bridge. This gruesome practice was a stark warning to anyone entering the city about the consequences of treason against the crown.

So now let’s see what’s happening with a few more characters …

Chapter 46: In Which Miss Pecksniff Makes Love, Mr. Jonas Makes Wrath, Mrs. Gamp Makes Tea, and Mr. Chuffey Makes Business ((i) to “They don’t tell me either; but I’ll watch. I’ll watch. Don’t be frightened”)

Tom wants to walk to Mrs. Todgers’s boarding house to see if Merry is there, and asks Ruth to go with him. He tells her that he knows she will be a comfort to Merry. On the way they happen to meet Charity and her fiancé, Mr. Moddle, who are window shopping for furniture, and Tom points them out to Ruth:

“‘Why does he look as if he was going to be buried, Tom?’ inquired his little sister.
‘Why, he is naturally a dismal young gentleman, I believe,’ said Tom ‘but he is very civil and inoffensive.’“

Tom thinks it best not to embarrass the couple, as:

“Miss Pecksniff had quite the air of having taken the unhappy Moddle captive, and brought him up to the contemplation of the furniture like a lamb to the altar.”

and Mr. Moddle certainly does look melancholy, with a large tear standing in his eye.



“Mr. Moddle is Led to the Contemplation of his Destiny” - Hablot K. Browne (Phiz) - May 1844

He is directed to go and ask the price of something, and when he returns Charity turns and becomes aware of Tom, standing there with his sister. She is deliberately cordial to them - especially Ruth - in her triumph at being discovered thus with a fiancé. In an arch aside, she says:

“My dear girl! … I never was so ashamed in my life.”

Charity asks Tom Pinch which way he is going, and on being told, says that Merry is not at Mrs. Todgers’s, as they have just left there. She will be at at her own home. Charity says that they are headed there for tea now, and asks Tom and Ruth to join them. Tom hesitates, but Charity reassures him that he will not be there, so they need not be concerned.

As they walk along arm in arm, Charity insists on knowing what Ruth thinks of her intended. When Ruth feels obliged to admit that he seems “rather low”, Charity claims that it is because he had proposed to her three times and she had rejected him, although:

“I always liked him. I felt that he was not to me what the crowd of young men who had made proposals had been, but something very different.”

Charity continues her flight of fancy, saying she had driven Augustus to distraction, adding another dreadful thought, that if she had continued in this way, she might have:

“goaded him to suicide, and it had got into the papers!”

And carries on describing all the details of their upcoming nuptials.

Meanwhile Tom and Mr. Moddle are also walking on, arm in arm, and Tom is having great difficulty in selecting a topic which feels innocuous. So he comments that it is surprising in such crowded streets, that people on foot are not run over more often. But even this is the cause of gloom for Augustus Moddle:

“’there are some men,’ interrupted Moddle, with a hollow laugh, ‘who can’t get run over. They live a charmed life.”



“Mr. Moddle, with a dark look, replied: ”The drivers won’t do it.” - Fred Barnard - 1872

So Tom makes sure he keeps a very tight hold indeed on Mr. Moddle, until they reach Mrs. Todger’s.

When they arrive, Tom hesitates on the threshold, not sure of his welcome. He does not want to go in, but Charity insists, and leads the way with Ruth. She opens the door of the sitting-room and enters, bestowing her acid smile and a greeting on Mrs. Todgers, Mrs. Gamp, and Mr. Chuffey, who are all sitting with Merry. She then introduces her “sweet child” and fiancé, Mr. Moddle.

Mrs. Gamp is ecstatic to see more young lovers, having:

“a general desire to establish a large and profitable connection.”

She rambles on happily for a while, making sure she mentions everyone in her addresses, and curtseys several times. She then crosses the room to Mr. Chuffey, who is seated in his regular corner, and shakes him by the shoulder. Mr. Chuffey immediately apologises for whatever it is he might have done, and Merry goes over to him to reassure him. She looks up at Tom significantly, to show him that now she realises what is it like to be a loyal dependant.

Mr. Chuffey also seems to ramble in his speech, saying: “He’ll die one day” and talking of “his son”. Mrs. Gamp is bitter, sarcastic and hostile towards him. As she calms down at last, she ensures that the maid serves her some toast and eggs, continuing to prattle on with good humour and affability.



“Mrs. Gamp Makes Tea” - Hablot K. Browne (Phiz) - May 1844

She is the only one who speaks, the others remaining silent, especially Mr. Chuffey. But then he becomes agitated, as:

"some struggling recollection of the last approach to revelry he had witnessed, suggested a strange question to his mind. He looked round upon a sudden, and said:
‘Who’s lying dead upstairs?’“

Merry reassures him kindly, reminding him that his master Anthony Chuzzlewit had died a while ago. Mr. Chuffey puts his face in his hands, and after a while repeats his question. Then a third time he repeats the same question:

“with an eagerness that had a peculiar terror in it.
‘There’s some one dead,’ he said, ‘or dying; and I want to knows who it is. Go see, go see! Where’s Jonas?’“

Merry tells him he is in the country, but Mr. Chuffey goes upstairs to check, whispering as he goes, “Foul play!”

He then comes downstairs more calmly, and he tells Merry that he will protect her:

“‘They don’t tell you,’ he said to Merry in his quavering voice, as he sat down again, and patted her upon the head. ‘They don’t tell me either; but I’ll watch, I’ll watch. They shall not hurt you; don’t be frightened.’”

What do we make of Mr. Moddle? From Charity’s perspective, when she first moved in with Mrs. Todgers, he certainly seemed interested in marrying her. However, this seemed to me just because she reminded him of Merry, whose memory he probably still loves.

Charity seem to regard him as a trophy because he will be rich, and by comparison with the brutish Jonas, is a perfect gentleman. Does it all come down to sisterly rivalry then? She certainly made sure he proposed to her by saying that otherwise people would gossip, as they were so much in each other’s company.

But Augustus Moddle is in such a low state. It’s possible that his nature is just depressed and moping, and that he has always been like this. But do we think he will really go through with the marriage?

Mr. Chuffey is an enigma; he certainly seems to know something. When he asks “Who’s lying dead upstairs?” the implications seem more ominous than that he is just remembering Anthony’s death. 🤔

Mr. Chuffey also tells Merry “They don’t tell you. They don’t tell me either; but I’ll watch, I’ll watch. They shall not hurt you; don’t be frightened.” Who are “they” and what could this mean? Mr. Chuffey seems to sense that Merry is in danger, and he clearly knows something about Jonas that is incriminating. Again, this does not seem to be entirely explained by the fact that we know Merry is a victim of domestic abuse from Jonas.

Can it be connected with Jonas’s shushing of Mr. Chuffey at the funeral, and to Jonas’s general dislike of Mr. Chuffey’s talking?

So many questions flitting through our minds …

Oh, and have you noticed that Hablot Knight Browne produced two engravings for this one chapter alone? That's almost unheard of. Usually he just produced one illustration per installment i.e. every 3 or 4 chapters.

I have not finished Chapter 46, but I did notice that it does have two engravings. It seems to be one of the longer chapters. I had never really noticed the average for the engravings.

"Augustus spoke to nobody, but sighed for every one, and occasionally gave himself such a sounding slap upon the forehead as would make Mrs. Todgers, who was rather nervous, start up in her chair with an involuntary exclamation." 🤣

It seems like Mr. Moddle would rather be dead than go through with this marriage. But it also seems like he does not have the will to try and get out of it. From other works I've read, I think at that time it would be dishonorable to break an engagement. However, I think Mr. Moddle should do it anyway before it is too late for him.

I think Charity wants to have a husband because that is what most young women wanted at that time. But I also think she was spurred on by jealousy of her sister to find one fast and to not be picky. Mr. Moddle, being still upset over her sister's marriage, was easy prey. Also, he is someone her sister could have married, but chose Jonas instead.

We see Mrs. Gamp as a musical instrument:

Mrs. Gamp was a lady of that happy temperament which can be ecstatic without any other stimulating cause than a general desire to establish a large and profitable connection. She added daily so many strings to her bow, that she made a perfect harp of it; and upon that instrument she now began to perform an extemporaneous concerto.

The Phiz illustration of Mrs Gamp’s tea party is quite the collection of curious and quirky individuals. I can’t help but compare this tea party to that of the Mad Hatters in ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’.

There is such a breadth of the novel’s characters in this illustration. By bringing so many characters together it feels like Dickens is beginning to draw our novel to a close. The sisters’ Pecksniff are either unhappily married or soon to be unhappily married. How wildly different are Moddle and Jonas! Tom and Ruth, on the other hand, continue to be drawn closer and closer by Dickens.

Chuffey is aware of, or senses that something is wrong and his feeling of misadventure keep the reader on edge. Meanwhile we have Mrs Gamp presiding over the tea. She seems to greatly enjoy presiding over the group. Then again, she likes to preside over both births and deaths. And where is Mrs Harris?

In the illustration we have two plants that are straggly and near death and in the foreground we see a cat playing with a ball of yarn.

There is something unsettling about this illustration even though, on the surface, it projects a humourous tone.

Jodi wrote: ""Augustus spoke to nobody, but sighed for every one, and occasionally gave himself such a sounding slap upon the forehead as would make Mrs. Todgers, who was rather nervous, start up in her chair w..."

I laughed out loud at this! I could just picture it in my head. The sound of that dramatic slap in the quiet! :)

Bionic Jean wrote: "Mr. Chuffey is an enigma; he certainly seems to know something. When he asks “Who’s lying dead upstairs?” the implications seem more ominous than that he is just remembering Anthony’s death. 🤔...."

It felt more like a premonition, as though his loosened grasp on reality has made him sensitive to spiritual impressions. Or it could be motivated by knowledge that he has forgotten but is still lingering in his subconscious.

Great comments everyone. Indeed Peter, where is Mrs. Gamp? And why has no illustrator ever drawn her likeness? That’s a serious omission, surely. I loved the various quotations picked out. And I’ve just realised that my post yesterday got truncated somehow, so I’ll complete it now.

(edited - Mrs. Harris, of course!)

My favourite quotation today has to be from Mrs. Gamp’s vast stock of phrases. Her wandering tongue reminds me so much of Nicholas’s mother, Mrs. Nickleby. We know she was based on Charles Dickens’s own mother, but Mrs. Gamp’s malapropisms and mode of speech are all her own! Sometimes I find her a little tiresome, as Charles Dickens is quite self-indulgent in these passages, but at other times her speech seems a hoot. And perhaps more seriously, did you catch the bit where we see that she herself was subject to a violent husband (so she will know what Merry is suffering):

“in consequence of tender teeth, and not too many of ‘em; which Gamp himself, Mrs Chuzzlewit, at one blow, being in liquor, struck out four, two single, and two double,”

It is described here with such humour that the ghastly episode referred to makes us smile! She carries on immediately about her imaginary friend Mrs. Harris, saying the tooth:

“was took by Mrs Harris for a keepsake, and is carried in her pocket at this present hour, along with two cramp-bones, a bit o’ ginger, and a grater like a blessed infant’s shoe, in tin, with a little heel to put the nutmeg in; as many times I’ve seen and said, and used for candle when required, within the month.”

Surely this tin is a memory? It sounds so specific and unusual, that next time I go to the Dickens museum and look at all his knick-knacks, I think I’ll see if I can find it and let you know!

So now let's complete this chapter, where the mood is about to swiftly change ...

Chapter 46: In Which Miss Pecksniff Makes Love, Mr. Jonas Makes Wrath, Mrs. Gamp Makes Tea, and Mr. Chuffey Makes Business ((ii) from “They don’t tell me either; but I’ll watch. I’ll watch. Don’t be frightened” to end)

Mrs. Gamp, having finished her tea, starts to chastise Mr. Chuffey again:

“Who’s dead, indeed! It wouldn’t be no grievous loss if some one was, I think!”

and taking him by the scruff of the neck, shakes him roughly backwards and forwards until he is “so giddy and addle-headed, that he could say nothing more; which Mrs Gamp regarded as the triumph of her art.”



“Mrs. Gamp favours the company with an exhibition of professional skill - Rough Nursing” - Fred Barnard - 1872

Charity takes this opportunity to tell Tom that it is her sister’s fault for marrying such a “Wretch”, thus entailing having Chuffey in the house. Moreover she says, she is glad that she is marrying a gentleman herself, and not a brute like Jonas. She is so pointedly unpleasant at the expense of her sister, that Tom “despised the base motives that were working in her breast”, and decides that it is time for him and Ruth to leave.

He tells Merry that he plans to write a letter to Jonas, explaining that he wasn’t involved with whatever business the letter was connected to, but was just its messenger. Merry thanks him, but before they can leave, Jonas comes home, and says “in a surly tone:
‘I didn’t know you’d got a party.’“

Charity immediately becomes very sarcastic, despite Merry imploring her not to. Jonas then reminds Charity of their previous relationship, Augustus Moddle “mak[es] some faint and sickly demonstration of shaking his fist”, and they leave.

Jonas then notices Tom and Ruth and is incensed:

“Jonas got up from his chair, and swearing a great oath, caught it in his grasp, as if he would have felled Tom to the ground with it.”

When Tom tries to explain about the letter, Jonas keeps insulting him. Then he becomes even more violent and and attempts to attack him. Merry runs between them, crying out to Tom to leave the house, and Mrs. Gamp throws her weight against Tom, thereby forcing both Tom and Ruth down the stairs and out of the house. Tom has not had the chance to mention Nadgett. The narrator tells us that:

“If the name could have passed his lips; … if Jonas could have learned, … through Tom’s means, what unsuspected spy there was upon him; he would have been saved from the commission of a Guilty Deed, then drawing on towards its black accomplishment.”

But that Jonas’s nature is so vile, that he is responsible for all that is to befall him.

Once the others are gone, Jonas turns on Mercy and accuses her of plotting with Tom. She says she has only met with Tom in London twice before this, but corrects herself, which makes Jonas sneer and says he does not believe her, calling her a:

“lying jade’
As he made an angry motion with his hand, she shrunk down hastily. A suggestive action! Full of a cruel truth!“

He is interrupted by the clock striking, which seems to remind him of something. Jonas drags Merry from the floor and tells her that if he finds Tom in the house again, or if she pries at all into his affairs, she will regret it. He tells her that he has lost some money in business that day, and wants to sleep it off. Merry say she will not question him, and pleads that:

“if you will tell me what you wish, I will be obedient and will try to please you. I make no merit of that, for I have no friend in my father or my sister, but am quite alone. I am very humble and submissive. You told me you would break my spirit, and you have done so. Do not break my heart too!”

But: “the whole mean, abject, sordid, pitiful soul of the man, looked at her, for the moment, through his wicked eyes.”

Jonas tells her to make up the truckle bed on the ground floor, at the back of the house, and not disturb him. He plans to sleep all night and possibly through the next day as well. But he must on no account be disturbed. Merry goes to do as Jonas instructs, and:

“When she had withdrawn he paced up and down the room several times; but always with his right hand clenched, as if it held something; which it did not, being empty.”

Mrs. Gamp enters the room. She tells Jonas what Chuffey said earlier:

“when Mr Chuffey comes to ask who’s lyin’ dead upstairs, and—’
‘Who’s lying dead upstairs!’ repeated Jonas, standing aghast …‘Why, the old fool’s mad!’ cried Jonas, much disturbed“

whereupon:

“Mrs Gamp rubbed her hands, and smiled, and shook her head, and sniffed expressively, as scenting a job.”

Jonas then asks Mrs. Gamp if she can take care of Mr. Chuffey in a different room, and keep him in there. Mrs. Gamp replies that between them, she and a friend can watch him around the clock. After giving Mrs. Gamp her work, Jonas goes down to the little room that was prepared for him. He comments to himself that it is strange that Mr. Chuffey should start talking like this now, and also utters some threats about getting even with him:

“for anything I know, he may have been carrying on the same game all along. Old dog! He shall be gagged!”

Jonas falls on his food ravenously, and then paces the room, preoccupied with his dark thoughts. It had been converted into an office years ago, but now:

“It was a blotched, stained, mouldering room, like a vault; and there were water-pipes running through it, which at unexpected times in the night, when other things were quiet, clicked and gurgled suddenly, as if they were choking.”

There is a door to the passage outside, which has not been used for years, but he works on the lock with oil, until it opens freely. He changes into country clothes, which he has already prepared in a portmanteau, and sits by the back door, waiting for all the bells and sounds in the street to cease. Two men pass by talking about a skeleton:

“supposed to be that of a murdered man. ‘So murder is not always found out, you see,’ they said to one another as they turned the corner.”

At last all falls quiet, and Jonas flees into the night.

What a sense of foreboding is conjured up here. Did you notice a hint of some dark terror to come: with “the commission of a Guilty Deed, then drawing on towards its black accomplishment”? Perhaps as Cindy wondered, it was not so much a memory as a premonition. But then Jonas is so crazed by now that it could all be mixed up in his mind.

And what of those two men at the end … is this also foreshadowing some terrible crime?

I have two favourite quotations today, both about Jonas:

“But the fatality was of his own working; the pit was of his own digging; the gloom that gathered round him was the shadow of his own life.”

My goodness these are powerful, doom-laden words! Whatever can be going to happen next? And these, from near the end of the chapter:

“It was now growing dark. As the gloom of evening, deepening into night, came on, another dark shade emerging from within him seemed to overspread his face, and slowly change it. Slowly, slowly; darker and darker; more and more haggard; creeping over him by little and little, until it was black night within him and without.”

A marvellous image, where Jonas seems subsumed into the black night. I will barely have the courage to open my book tomorrow!

Over to you.

Bionic Jean wrote: "Great comments everyone. Indeed Peter, where is Mrs. Gamp? And why has no illustrator ever drawn her likeness? That’s a serious omission, surely. I loved the various quotations picked out. And I’ve..."

No illustrator has ever done a likeness of Gamp? That is a fascinating and large omission.

Well, Gamp is so retiring and tends to fade into the wallpaper, so she probably fails to stir the imagination of illustrators enough to warrant an image.

Today's reading found me thinking of Mr. Carker in Dombey and Sons and Rigaud of Little Dorrit. Jonas now conjures that same kind of dark cloud and sense of moral decay. I put nothing past him and he has some nefarious scheme that he has carefully planned out. I hope Tom steers very clear of him! And, poor Chuffey. I hope he lives to tell.

Mrs. Gamp is such a double-edged sword. I think if she were not so humorous I would find that I fully dislike her. I try to remember that so much of what she is is a product of the life she has been dealt. When she was shaking Chuffey, I wanted to shake her, and I wonder if she will listen to him more carefully when they are alone and get closer to the truth, or just be in her liquor bottle and oblivious.

Oh yes, Mrs. Gamp. I have to admit I do not enjoy her. I generally love all sides of Dickens (and there are so many!), but what I like most is when he slows down and gives us an image like your second favorite quote, Jean, which was mine. You can just picture Jonas melding into the gloom of the night. Great stuff, and a wonderful balance to Mrs. Gamp's hysteria!

Jonas is an odious man, and it appears that he has physically abused Merry as well as submitted her to verbal abuse. This part of the chapter strongly suggests he has more evil on his mind.

Rumpling the bed but not sleeping in it, oiling the lock so as to gain and exit (and probably an entry later) and Dickens talking about skeletons all add up to what I believe will be a post Halloween horror.

Did anyone else pick up yet another feeling of ‘Macbeth’ in this part of the chapter. The transformation of his character into evil, the deception of his intentions, the miasma of death that seems to follow his every action and every word.

With his changing of clothes I think Dickens is signalling a further change and decent of his character. Shades of the dual characters of Dr Jeckyll and Mr Hyde also seem to emerge here. Could it be that Jonas was in any way an inspiration for Stephenson?

Odious! "through his wicked eyes"

If Tom had mentioned Nadgett's name then Jonas would have learned "what unsuspected spy there was upon him; he would have been saved from the commission of a Guilty Deed, then drawing on towards its black accomplishment". If I am reading this right, Tigg is in a heap of trouble.....however, I can hope that Tigg is prepared and gets to Jonas first, while he is "walking alone" ? unlikely?
Pg: 671 & 669

John wrote: "Bionic Jean wrote: "Great comments everyone. Indeed Peter, where is Mrs. Gamp? ..."

Eeek - what am I thinking! Lots of illustrators have created images of Mrs. Gamp, quite a few of which we've shared. I meant of course, Mrs HARRIS! 😆

(Note to self - do not post before your first coffee of the day! Especially an attempt at a sly joke) 🙄

Thanks to Peter, I'm learning to look more closely at the illustrations. And I know I shouldn't laugh, but Barnard's illustration of Mr. Moddle in Jean's message 28 was just the icing on the cake of all the melancholy illustrations of Moddle being taken as a lamb to the slaughter. Poor man!

I don't know why Mrs. Gamp has taken such a strong dislike for Mr. Chuffey, who appears to be coming out of his torpor just to be on the lookout to protect Merry. He does not deserve to be abused and violently shaken.

In relation to that, my favorite quote was where "Mrs. Gamp took him by the collar of his coat, and gave him some dozen or two of hearty shakes backward and forward in his chair; that exercise being considered by the disciples of the Prig school of nursing (who are very numerous among professional ladies) as exceedingly conductive to repose, and highly beneficial to the performance of the nervous functions.

I'm so proud of Tom. It's like watching a caterpillar turning into a beautiful butterfly. He is showing so much strength of character in this chapter. He is both gentle and strong. Like Julie expressed earlier, I also worried that Dickens had not created a woman that Tom could pair up with. Well, the way Jonas is going, Merry may soon find herself a widow, and her suffering at the hands of Jonas has now shaped her to truly fall in love with the man that Tom is.

Regarding Jonas, I really love what Dickens wrote about Jonas at the end, making the readers understand that, for Jonas, there was no turning back from his evil ways:

"It was now growing dark. As the gloom of evening, deepening into night, came on, another dark shade emerging from within him seemed to overspread his face, and slowly change it. Slowly, slowly; darker and darker; more and more haggard; creeping over him by little and little; until it was black night within him and without."

My favorite quote came from the discussion of Mrs. Gamp's rough and ready methods when those present did not seem to agree with them:

"For such is the rash boldness of the uninitiated, that they will frequently set up some monstrous abstract principle, such as humanity, or tenderness, or the like idle folly, in obstinate defiance of all precedent and usage; and will even venture to maintain the same against the persons who have made the precedents and established the usage, and who must therefore be the best and most impartial judges of the subject" (666).

I love Dickens' sarcasm!

Bionic Jean wrote: "John wrote: "Bionic Jean wrote: "Great comments everyone. Indeed Peter, where is Mrs. Gamp? ..."

Eeek - what am I thinking! Lots of illustrators have created images of Mrs. Gamp, quite a few of wh..."

That’s so funny. I thought I had recalled her likeness, but I must admit my first reaction — and perhaps wish — was a concerted effort to keep her only as an individual reader would imagine her.

John wrote: "She added daily so many strings to her bow, that she made a perfect harp of it"

What a great line.

Shirley (stampartiste) wrote: "Like Julie expressed earlier, I also worried that Dickens had not created a woman that Tom could pair up with. Well, the way Jonas is going, Merry may soon find herself a widow, and her suffering at the hands of Jonas has now shaped her to truly fall in love with the man that Tom is."

This has crossed my mind, too!

I was thinking more about this when I read this section:

‘My goodness, Tom!’ his sister interposed. ‘You ought to fall in love
immediately.’

Tom put this observation off good humouredly, but somewhat gravely too

I had a momentary spasm of "BUT TOM, there are more fish in the sea than Mary! You can have another chance!" and then of being angry that when people in Dickens fall in love, they fall in love forever and can't move on, barring a death. Vs. people I know from my own life, who get more than one shot at happiness if the first round doesn't work out. I don't really see the point of Tom hankering after Mary for the rest of his days. Maybe it won't happen.

Julie wrote: "I had a momentary spasm of "BUT TOM, there are more fish in the sea than Mary! You can have another chance!" and then of being angry that when people in Dickens fall in love, they fall in love forever and can't move on, barring a death. Vs. people I know from my own life, who get more than one shot at happiness if the first round doesn't work out. I don't really see the point of Tom hankering after Mary for the rest of his days. Maybe it won't happen.."

So very true, Julie. Right now, Tom can probably only see Merry as Jonas' wife, but I bet that, if she becomes a widow, Tom will be there to console her. And they will both have an opportunity to realize what a gift they have found in each other. *fingers crossed*

I like that potential match-making, ladies. I have been thinking he needs to look elsewhere. It’s fortunate for him that he’s in London, away from Mary, even though he continues to yearn for her. I can see an end, a bad end, to Jonas, leaving Merry free and not really grieving over her marriage. Once Tom sees the changes in Martin, I think that will make the situation easier for him to accept.

The last couple of lines of this chapter were certainly foreboding. The blackness inside and out of Jonas…apparently whatever shred of goodness or humanity that remained in him before was now gone. The comparison to Stevenson’s creation is good.

Jean I thought you were saying it tongue in cheek, so I had a good laugh.

Sue I so agree, the quotation regarding Jonas in which he disappears into the darkness is a sign of his being beyond any redemption.

The only problem I have with comparing him to Jekyll and Hyde is that Jekyll was good half the time and Jonas is not good at all.

What about Charity in this chapter? She is so overbearing and commanding always calling poor Augustus, “child” and telling him what to do and not do. He is so in over his head that it’s just sad. Men like him hardly ever get a say so in anything. Charity is so head strong that he’ll never find happiness because I think he will actually fear her. In a way, this is a form of mental and emotional abuse. And I can see Charity has many of her father’s qualities - selfish, lacking emotion and moral superiority. She’s only interested in her social climbing and Augustus’ money. There is nothing genuinely kind about Charity and I don’t really think she even likes Augustus. So, he’s in for a rough life if he actually goes through with it.

Lori wrote: "There is nothing genuinely kind about Charity and I don’t really think she even likes Augustus. So, he’s in for a rough life if he actually goes through with it..."

Hmmm . . . if Tom cannot be allowed to change his allegiance to Mary, mayhaps a man who gave his heart to Merry before her marriage might be the one to pick up the pieces after Jonas exits stage left (hopefully pursued by a bear!). If Merry is freed from her abusive marriage before Charity can haul Augustus up the aisle, maybe he will find the wherewithal to break his bonds and pursue his dream girl!

Lori, I agree completely about Charity. There is absolute irony in Dickens choice of names for these girls. There is nothing charitable about Charity and Merry is not likely to ever be merry again. Your parallels between Charity and Pecksniff are spot on. She is definitely her father's daughter. Run, Augustus, Run!

Wow - fantastic comments again! But I want to get on to what we can see from the title will be some devastating conclusion, so will just highlight a couple of your thoughts here:

Lori - "I can see Charity has many of her father’s qualities - selfish, lacking emotion and moral superiority. She’s only interested in her social climbing and Augustus’ money."

I totally agree and can see no chink of kindness in Charity. She's one of those characters who is thoroughly unpleasant. Although she may not perform any devilish action, she sneakily causes so much hurt and pain to others in her daily life. As Sara sums up "There is absolute irony in Dickens choice of names for these girls" especially now that Mercy became referred to as "Merry" pretty early on.

The second is your aside of "hopefully [Exit], pursued by a bear" Cindy, which made me laugh so much. I actually saw a performance of The Winter's Tale at Shakespeare's Globe theatre in London, and it was fun to see how the Elizabethans staged this bit (yes, there actually was an "hairy bear"!)

So no more putting off the drama, here we go ...

Chapter 47: Conclusion of the Enterprise of Mr. Jonas and His Friend

“Did no men passing through the dim streets shrink without knowing why, when he came stealing up behind them?”

He walks and sometimes takes coaches or post chaises, bribing the driver to take him to wherever he is going. Sometimes he runs cross-country:

“When he looked back, across his shoulder, was it to see if his quick footsteps still fell dry upon the dusty pavement, or were already moist and clogged with the red mire that stained the naked feet of Cain!”

At last he comes across a slow night-coach, which had stopped for a break at a public-house, while the guard and coachman ate and drank within.



“Jonas at the Alehouse” - Harry Furniss -1910

He bargains for a seat outside this coach, and sleeps. But his dreams are not untroubled. In one nightmare he dreams about Judgment Day, where he is pointed out and denounced by someone in a crowd.

“As he strove to free the hand in which he held a club, and strike the blow he had so often thought of, he started to the knowledge of his waking purpose and the rising of the sun.”

He wakes:

“The sun was welcome to him. There were life and motion, and a world astir, to divide the attention of Day. It was the eye of Night—of wakeful, watchful, silent, and attentive Night, with so much leisure for the observation of his wicked thoughts—that he dreaded most.”

He asks the driver to let him off there, surly with the driver, who points out that it is before the town. But the driver is insulting back, and when Jonas thinks about this, he realises that he has been mistaken for a rough, common country fellow; and congratulates himself that this is proof that he is well disguised.

He waits by the road all day long:

“The day passed on. Noon, afternoon, evening. Sunset.”

until finally he sees a carriage go by containing Mr. Pecksniff and Mr. Montague. Jonas knows their plans. He had hung around the inn the night before, and listened to their conversation. He knows that Mr. Montague will be heading home today, along a pleasant track. Mr. Pecksniff will show him the route, through some fields.

The pair are chatting noisily and cheerfully, and Mr. Pecksniff shows Mr. Montague where to get out of the carriage, and which direction to then follow the footpath, to find the little wood. Mr. Montague gets down and waves until the carriage is out of sight. Then he sits down, to all appearance looking as if he has aged ten years. The pretence is no longer necessary. His scheme has succeeded, but he is too fatigued to show any triumph. Or perhaps it might be, the narrator suggests:

“that a shadowy veil was dropping round him, closing out all thoughts but the presentiment and vague foreknowledge of impending doom.”

Montague feels so cold, although the air is warm, that he gets up shivering from his seat, and resumes his walk, deciding to take the path he has been recommended. He has walked through an idyllic pastoral scene as the sun sets:

“but before going down into a hollow place, he looked round, once, upon the evening prospect, sorrowfully. Then he went down, down, down, into the dell.”

It is profoundly silent, like the ruin of a church open to the sky, where:

“gnarled trunks, and twisted boughs, and ivy-covered stems, and trembling leaves, and bark-stripped bodies of old trees stretched out at length, were faintly seen in beautiful confusion.”

He walks on and on, as the sunlight dies away.

“Then, he was seen or heard no more”

except by one man, alone. But:

“What had he left within the wood, that he sprang out of it as if it were a hell!
The body of a murdered man.“

The doer of this deed leaves the woods quickly. He is not sorry for the murder, but he is frightened and anxious, and:

“his fears were now diverted, strangely, to the dark room he had left shut up at home. He had a greater horror, infinitely greater, of that room than of the wood … His hideous secret was shut up in the room, and all its terrors were there; to his thinking it was not in the wood at all.”

He walks ten miles before he stops to catch a coach into London. He stops in a pub to wait for the coach, becoming increasingly worried that someone will realise he is not at home in bed. He imagines people knocking on his bedroom door, and the knocking in his imagination will not stop.

“Still he was not sorry. No. He had hated the man too much, and had been bent, too desperately and too long, on setting himself free. If the thing could have come over again, he would have done it again. His malignant and revengeful passions were not so easily laid”

but he was full of dread and fear.

The coach comes and he returns to London, frightened lest his fellow travellers on the coach should know about the murder, although he knows that it is not possible, yet. It is 5 o’clock when gets off and enters the London streets and cautiously makes his way back to his house.

“The passage-way was empty when his murderer’s face looked into it. He stole on, to the door on tiptoe, as if he dreaded to disturb his own imaginary rest.”

A monstrous fear overwhelms him, that the murdered man might be in the room, and he looks round fearfully. Then he ties his clothing in a bundle intending to dispose of it in the river when possible, and stows it in a cupboard.

Looking in the mirror, he worries that his deed is written in his face, so he lies down and buries himself under the blankets. But still he heard his own heart beating “Murder, Murder, Murder”, in the bed.

Jonas tries to sleep but he is too thirsty, too nervous, and too consumed with his fear. He hears footsteps and asks who’s there. Merry replies, and Jonas asks whether someone had knocked at his door the day before. Merry says no one did; that Mr. Nadgett had come to see him, but when she said Jonas was sleeping he had said it wasn’t important. She saw him again in the street early that morning.

Jonas becomes nervous that Mr. Nadgett might have seen him come in. He avoids his household for a while, unable to face them, because of his tell-tale face. When he does come out, he thinks that the family is very quiet.

“And whatsoever guard he kept upon himself, he could not help listening, and showing that he listened … as if a spell were on him, into eager listening. For he knew it must come. And his present punishment, and torture and distraction, were, to listen for its coming.”

This is the end of installment 17. Installment 18 begins on Saturday with chapter 48.