ife and 
 
 of 
 
 Charles 
 
 W 
 
 'Punch' 
 
The 
 
 Life and Letters 
 
 of 
 
 Charles Samuel Keene 
 
 by 
 
 George Somes Layard. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON & COMPANY, Limited. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 MACMILLAN AND COMPANY. 
 1892. 
 
CHISWICK PRESS: — C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, 
 CHANCERY LANE, LONDON. 
 
Co 
 
I cannot let this book go forth without acknowledging 
 the kindness of Mr. Henry Eddozves Keene in reading 
 through the manuscript with me for the purpose of 
 correcting any ewors of fact, as well as for the generous 
 way in which he has placed at my disposal original 
 sketches by his brother for reproduction in these pages. 
 I am also indebted, amongst others, to Mrs. Edwin 
 Edwards, Mrs. Macdonald, Miss Stewart, Miss Jean 
 Ingelozv, Mr. Henry Silver, Mr. Robert Dudley, Mr. 
 Farrar Ranson, Mr. Alexander Stevenson, Mr. John 
 Clayton, Mr. IV. P. Mills, Mr. J. Sands, Mr. 
 Holman Hunt, Mr. Tuer, Mr. Stacy Marks, R.A., 
 Mr. Swain, and last, but most of all, to Mr. Joseph 
 Crawhall,for letters, sketches, and notes, without which 
 my task ivould have been impossible. To Messrs. 
 Bradbury and Agnew, too, I would here offer my best 
 thanks for the unhesitating permission given to re- 
 
Vlll 
 
 preface. 
 
 produce the " Punch " pictures with which this book is 
 adorned. To Messrs. Macmillan and Co. also my 
 thanks are due for raising no objection to the reproduc- 
 tion of the original design for the Vignette of Mark 
 L emons "Jest Book," and to Messrs. Elliott and Fry 
 for their kind offer of the photograph of Charles Keene, 
 which forms the frontispiece to this volume. To the 
 publishers, too, I would tender my hearty thanks for 
 the generous way in which they have fallen in with 
 almost all my suggestions to make this volume, as far 
 as lay in their power, worthy of its subject. Any 
 suggestions of mine that they have not adopted I am 
 perfectly satisfied were wholly tmrcasonable. To Mr. 
 Stuart J. Reid and Mr. Creed, as well as to those clever 
 craftsmen and printers, whose names we do not learn, 
 but to whose skilful labour we are all so much indebted, 
 I must at least put on record a word of thanks for 
 their laborious co-operation. I do not hesitate to say 
 that, to those who have only had the opportunity of 
 studying Charles Keene 's work in the pages of "Punch" 
 or " Once a Week" the illustrations in this book will 
 be nothing short of a revelation. In some instances, of 
 course, pen-work, not done for the purpose of typo- 
 photographic reproduction, was bound, especially in the 
 shadows, to grow rotten and lose its character, but, 
 in others, fac similitude is so nearly attained, that, 
 even side by side, it is not at once possible to tell the 
 original from its imitation. 
 
 One word as to a very valuable suggestion made to 
 me by Mr. Pennell, but at so late a stage in the 
 production of this book that I have doubts of the 
 
preface* 
 
 ix 
 
 feasibility of carrying it out. Much has been written 
 and said of the loss sustained in the wood-cutting 
 by Keenes pen-and-ink drawings, and Mr. Pennell 
 suggests that the reprodiictions in this volume should 
 be faced by the woodcuts of the same pictures from 
 " Punch," for comparison, and thus opportunity be 
 afforded of judging to ivhat extent this has been the 
 case. If this can be done at this late period, it shall, 
 but, if not, it is of course still competent to all who 
 have access to a file of u Punch" to judge for them- 
 selves} 
 
 G. S. L. 
 
 68, Palace Gardens Terrace, W. 
 1892. 
 
 1 Since writing the above, the proprietors of 11 Punch " have again 
 ptd me under an obligation by most generously lending me an electro- 
 type of the beautiful woodcut " Forwards." I have particularly 
 requested the art manager to see that all possible pains be taken to 
 give this block its full value in the printing, and, by placing it and 
 the photogravure face to face, to afford the opportunity desired of justly 
 comparing their relative values. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 1823 — 1844. 
 
 Birth. — Father.— Mother.— The Sparrows.— School in Queen's 
 Road. — The Corboulds. — Truants. — Ipswich. — Grammar 
 School. — Old House in the Butter Market.—" The Sparrows' 
 Nest." — Mr. Farrar Ranson. — Professor Co well. — Major- 
 General Mercer. — Character. — First artistic leanings. — Death, 
 of father. — Great Coram Street. — Choice of profession. — Furni- 
 val's Inn. — Mr. Pilkington, architect. — Apprenticeship to the 
 Whympers. — "Robinson Crusoe." — Letter, 1842. — George 
 Ingelow. — Miss Ingelow. — Mr. Henry Silver. — Mr. W. L. 
 Thomas. — Mr. Swain. — First Studio. — Dr. Dulcken. — Scene- 
 painting with the late C. Marshall. — Smoking. — "Fairy 
 Pipes."— " Dottles." — Letter, 1844 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 1845— 1850. 
 
 Samuel Read. — " Illustrated London News." — Journalistic illus- 
 tration. — " Artists' Society," Clipstone Street. — Tenniel, 
 Lewis, Haag, Calderon, Poynter, Wells, etc.— Sketching Club. 
 — Lack of appreciation by early associates. — Modesty. — 
 " Graveur du XIX e SPede." — Hatred of interviewers. — 
 Poor estimate of his own critical faculty. — Ballad of the Royal 
 Academy. — Opinion of Franco-Prussian War .... 33 
 
xii 
 
 Contents* 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 1851— 1859. 
 
 'Punch" Staff, 185 1. — Louis Napoleon. — Coup d'etat. — "Patent 
 Street-Sweeping Machine." — Keene's first appearance in 
 " Punch." — Further Notes by Mr. Silver— First signed Draw- 
 ing. — Work for the Whympers. — " Book of German Songs." — 
 German influence. — Dr. Dulcken. — Menzel. — Only an outside 
 contributor to " Punch." — Tour in Brittany. — Leaves Strand 
 Studio. — Clipstone Street Studio. — " Once a Week." — " A 
 Good Fight." — " Evan Harrington." — Music. — ■ " Jermyn 
 Band." — " Leslie's Choir." — Mr. J. Heming. — Original sug- 
 gestion to Mr. Birket Foster. — An Enthusiast. — The Volun- 
 teer Movement. — " Drowning the Magazine " ... 44 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 i860— 1864. 
 
 First appearance at "The Table." — Mr. Spielmann's account of 
 "Punch" Dinner. — Mr. Tenniel's account. — "The Voyage 
 of the Constance." — " Sea Kings and Naval Heroes." — " The 
 Cambridge Grisette." — "Eyebright." — Camping out. — Sailing. 
 — Mr. Stacy Marks, R.A. — Position as artist now assured. — 
 Leaves Clipstone Street Studio. — 55, Baker Street. — Love of 
 exercise. — The Arts Club. — Dinner-party. — Death of Leech. 
 — Keene's unconventionalism. — Food peculiarities. — Bouilla- 
 baisse. — " Cornhill Magazine." — " Legends of Number Nip." — 
 Mark Lemon's " Jest Book."—" Tracks for Tourists." — 
 " Tempera " painting 72 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 1864— 1868. 
 
 Keene as letter-writer. — " Parson Wilbur." — Mr. and Mrs. Edwin 
 Edwards. — Nicknames. — Dunwich. — Letter, August 5, 1864. 
 — Tigbourne Cottage. — Christmas Carols. — Letter, Jan. 26, 
 1865.— "Caudle Lectures."— " Punch " Pocket-book.— His 
 Etchings.— The Junior Etching Club.— "The Etcher."— 
 "London Society." — Letter, Sep. 12, [867. — Letter, Sep. 13, 
 
Co n teats. 
 
 xiii 
 
 1867. — Letter, Sep. 20, 1867. — Drawing direct from Nature. 
 — His method. — Anecdote from Mrs. Edwards. — " La Chro- 
 nique des Arts." — The Sausage Machine. — The Type-writer 
 and Mr. Tuer.— "A Failure."— Mr. Heseltine's Porch.— Mr. 
 Stewart 91 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 1869— 1871. 
 
 Bagpipes.— Letter, Oct. 26, 1869.— Mr. J. Sands.— His Reminis- 
 cences of Keene. — Extracts from letter to Mr. Crawhall on 
 Bagpipes. The Practice-stick. — Breton Bagpipe. — Northum- 
 berland Pipe reeds. — The Beethoven of Bagpipers. — Dentistry 
 and mouthpieces. — Enthusiastic Piper in Hyde Park. — Dr. 
 Ellis, F.R.S.— Mr. A. J. Hipkins.— Experiments with Scheibler 
 Tonometer. — The Stockhorn. — His godson a Piper. — Bagpipes 
 at the Siamese Legation. — A Hoax. — Life at "Tig." — Letter, 
 Jan. 9, 1869 120 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 1872 — 1874. 
 
 Photography and wood-blocks. — How a " Punch " picture is pro- 
 duced. — Mr. Tenniel's practice. — "Formes." — "Overlays." — 
 Keene's inks. — Perplexities of his translators. — Mr. Swain. — 
 King James' sea-sickness. — Keene's hatred of pedantry. — n, 
 Queen's Road West. — Mr. F. Wilfrid Lawson. — An ordinary 
 working day. — Letter, October 3, 1873. — The Coquet. — Letter, 
 November 11, 1873. — Letter, December 19, 1873. — Chodo- 
 wiecki. — Menzel. — Letter, April 1874. — Letter, August 18, 
 1874. — Letter, circa 1874. — The Stockhorn .... 140 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AS HUMOURIST. 
 
 Exhibition at Fine Art Society, 1891. — A revelation. — Not a great 
 humourist. — A great artist. — Comparison with Rowlandson, 
 etc. — As raconteur. — Quaintness. — Mr. Birket Foster. — A good 
 listener. — Mr. Robert Dudley. — Dancing in black gloves. — 
 
xiv 
 
 Contents. 
 
 As an actor. — His humour good-humoured. — One exception. 
 — The Clergy. — Good stories. — Story of two curates. — Story 
 of British farmer. — -Story of Aberdonian. — Story of Mr. Oscar 
 Wilde and Mr. Whistler. — Story of well-brought up child. — 
 Earthworm joke. — Captain Robley, 91st Highlanders. — Appeal 
 for subjects. — Story of Archdeacon Bouverie. — Mr. Farrar 
 Ranson's story. — Mr. Stacy Mark's portrait by Keene in 
 " Punch." — Story of Scotchman and asparagus. — Story of be- 
 reaved husband. — Story of "spirits forward." — The schoolboy's 
 suggestion. — -Mr. Henry Silver. — Mr. Andrew Tuer. — Value of 
 original drawings. — Keene's carelessness. — A misunderstand- 
 ing. — Correspondence thereon. — A Bargain. — Fine quality of 
 friendship. — Editorial risks. — A " Chestnut." — " The Family 
 Herald." — Correspondence thereon. — An editorial shift. — 
 " Cause and Effect." — Mr. Joseph Crawhall. — Keene's in- 
 debtedness to him. — Description of his surroundings. — A 
 generous controversy. — The "Albums." — Mr. Crawhall's por- 
 trait in " Punch."- — Acknowledgments of help. — A revolver as 
 wedding present. — Mr. Crawhall's father. — The printer's devil. 
 — " Editorial sapience." — " Comminatory." — " 'Andicapped." 
 — Keene's humour 168 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 1874— 1878. 
 
 Trip abroad. — Letter, Christmas Day, 1874. — His love of animals. 
 — The Royston Crow. — A surgical operation.— The cacoethes 
 colligendi. — -Flint implements. — A characteristic note. — Fifteen 
 shillings for an arrow-head. — A take-in. — A theorbo. — A 
 "curling-pin." — De Loutherbourg. — Letter, April 23, 1875. — 
 Letter, August 21, 1875. — A chess-player. — Problems. — Letter, 
 May 1876. — A disagreeable occurrence. — Loss of Tigbourne 
 Cottage. — Visits to Mr. Birket Foster. — The Macdonalds of 
 Kepplestone. — "Fly Leaves."— Letter, July 13, 1877.— Mr. 
 Stacy Marks' prophecy. — Letter, August 6, 1877. — Lawn 
 tennis. — Letter, August 27, 1877. — Bagpipe contest. — Letter, 
 October 6, 1877. — Letter, November 9, 1877. — Member of 
 "The Anti-Restoration Society." — Hatred of "quacksalvers." 
 ■ — Letter, undated. — Letter, March 30, 1878. — Mr. Crawhall's 
 
Contents 
 
 XV 
 
 "Pots." — An unfortunate mistake. — Letter, May 24, 1878. — 
 A Book-reader as well as Book-collector. — A Tory amongst 
 Whigs. — Mr. Anstey-Guthrie. — A pet scheme. — Letter, August 
 16, 1878. — Letter, August 20, 1878. — Keene as Cartoonist. 
 — Letter, September 28, 1878. — Letter, November 2, 1878. — 
 Letter, December 16, 1878 206 
 
 CHAPTER X, 
 1879— 1882. 
 
 Removal from Queen's Road to 239, King's Road, Chelsea. — Mr. 
 Dudley's account. — Letter, July 26, 1879. — Letter, November 
 23, 1879. — Letter, December 5, 1879. — Edition de Luxe of 
 Thackeray's Works. — Illustrations to " Roundabout Papers." 
 — Edward Fitzgerald. — Portraits of Thackeray. — "La Vie 
 Modeme" — Letter, May 16, 1880. — Letter, July 16, 1880. — 
 " Border Notes and Mixty-Maxty." — Death of Keene's mother. 
 — Letter, June 19, 188 1. — His love of young people. — A 
 useful hack-waltzer. — Fancy dress. — Letter, August 6, 1881. — 
 Keene's portrait by Sir George Reid. — Letter, October 20, 
 1881. — "Our People." — Undated letter to Mr. Tuer. — Miss 
 Jean Ingelovv's recollections.— Keene's appearance in later 
 years. — Mr. Mills. — "Just like a lord." — Letter, June 10, 1882. 
 — Letter, June 24, 1882. — Letter, October 12, 1882. . 287 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 1883— 1886. 
 
 Artistic approbation. — Bewick. — Haydon. — Whistler. — Menzel. — 
 Verestschagen. — Fantin — Millais. — Letter, April 13, 1883. — 
 Letter, July 14, 1883. — Letter, October 6, 1883. — Keene 
 and his editors. — A "Punch" picture rejected. — Golf. — - 
 Mr. Harral. — First symptoms of illness. — Charge of penu- 
 riousness. — His generosity. — The Southwold Ferryman. — Mr. 
 . G. H. Haydon. — Frugality. — "Robert." — Letter, August 2, 
 1884. — Letter, February 20, 1886. — Letter, February 27, 1886. 
 — Letter, April 4, 1886. — Letter, April 9, 1886. — Letter, April 
 25, 1886. — Keene and the Royal Academy. — Mrs. Langtry. — 
 At the R.A. dinner. — "Mr. Punch" has to explain a joke. — 
 
 b 
 
xvi 
 
 Contents 
 
 Mr. John Clayton and the 'bus conductor. — " What's the good 
 o' the W?" — Too good a joke for the public. — " Philological." 
 — " To Everybody." — "Punch" offers a prize. — Keene explains 
 to Mr. Tuer. — Mr. Tuer suggests an amendment. — " Punch " 
 brazens it out 342 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 1887 and 1888. 
 
 Mr. Tuer's note-paper. — Stipply appearance in "Punch " drawings. 
 — The "recorder" and penny whistle. — Royal Society of 
 British Artists. — Royal Society of Painters in Water-colours. — 
 " Leaves of Parnassus." — Letter, April 9, 1887. — Letter, June 
 11, 1887. — Letter, July 1, 1887— Letter, August 19, 1887. — 
 Letter, September 13, 1887. — Keene no sportsman. — -An 
 amusing dilemma. — Letter, September, 1887. — Letter, October 
 1, 1887. — Letter, October 22, 1887. — " King James's Wedding, 
 andotherRhymes." — Against the Tory grain. — Letter, February 
 18, 1888. — Letter, June 12, 1888. — Letterjune 14, 1888. 375 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 1889— 1 891. 
 
 Rheumatism and dyspepsia. — Horror of tobacco. — Courage under 
 suffering. — Gives up Chelsea studio. — His accumulated " Ket." 
 — " The Daily Graphic." — A ray of hope. — Letter, December 
 16, 1889. — Tobacco-phobia gone. — Letter, January 11, 1890. 
 —Letter, March 22, 1890. — "An ominous and disheartening 
 symptom." — Letter, August 8, 1890. — Letter, August 29, 
 
 1890. — Visits of friends. — A dozen black puddings. — Letter 
 (undated) to Sir John Millais. — Mr. Holman Hunt's account 
 of his visit. — "Excuse a dying man."— Letter, November 26, 
 
 1891. — "An unconscionable longtime a-dying " — ■" Smashing 
 attacks." — The last letter. — Death. — A solemn requiem. 404 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 LAST WORDS. 
 
 No apology needed. — Of biographers. — A biography, not a 
 memoir.— Its scope.— No complete bibliography.— Mr. W. 
 
Contents. 
 
 xvii 
 
 L. Thomas.— The illustrated annuals.— Mr. Holloway's letter 
 to "The Times."— " Round the table."— The sacrilege of 
 indecency.—" A bow be it."— Horror of shaking hands.— Bogus 
 plum-cake.— Stealing a march on Mr. Holman Hunt.— Estimate 
 of contemporaries.— Mr. TennieL— Sir F. Leighton.— "A 
 great but unknown artist."— Across the Channel, a chorus of 
 praise. — The end A , Q 
 
 APPENDICES. 
 Appendix A.— Tales, poems, etc., Illustrated by C. K. in " Once 
 
 Appendix R— List of Translations by Charles Keene of First 
 Thoughts and Original Sketches by Joseph Crawhall, with 
 Dates of their Appearance in the Pages of " Punch." . 446 
 
 Appendix C— From the "Journal of the Society of Arts," March 
 27, 1885, pp. 498-9. Dr. A. J. Ellis's Lecture "On the 
 Musical Scales of various Nations." 452 
 
 Index . 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Charles S. Keene. . . . . frontispiece 
 
 Headpiece to Preface . . vii 
 
 " Please, Parson, Mother wants some Soup " . . x 
 
 Tailpiece xviii 
 
 Tailpiece xxii 
 
 A Crossing Sweeper 3 
 
 Charles Keene, aged 9 7 
 
 Reproduction from a Proof of Mr. Cooper's 
 
 Wood Block for the "Robinson Crusoe" . . 11 
 
 Studies for Illustrations to "Robinson Crusoe" face 12 
 
 A Sleeping Man . .16 
 
 A Sleeping Man . . . . . . . 17 
 
 Keene's Studio in the Strand .... face 23 
 
 Fisher Boys . . ... . . . . 27 
 
 A Woman in a Mob Cap face 37 
 
 Tailpiece ......... 43 
 
 Stages of Development of a "Punch" Picture . 46 
 
 Study for the "Punch" Picture "Veneration" . 57 
 
 Front Door of the White Cottage . . . face 59 
 
 Study for a "Once a Week" Illustration . . 63 
 
 Particular to a Hair ....... 69 
 
 An Irish Jehu . . . . . . . 71 
 
 Sketches of Charles Keene- on board the 
 "William and Mary," by Mr. H. S. Marks, 
 
 RA. (i860) . face 78 
 
 A Rustic .88 
 
XX 
 
 3Uot of ^Illustrations 
 
 First Design for Vignette to Mark Lemon's 
 
 Jest Book . . . . . . face 
 
 Tailpiece 
 
 Study for Frontispiece to the "Caudle Lectures" 
 Sonning Bridge and Church .... face 
 Vide Letter to Mr. Tuer as to Typewriter 
 Sketch of Himself in lieu of Signature to a Letter 
 
 Tailpiece . . 
 
 Himself 
 
 betiveen pp. 142 and 
 . face 
 
 . face 
 
 Keene's Portrait of Himself in " Punch " 
 
 Picture face 
 
 A Shepherd . 
 A Village Hampden 
 Tailpiece, "Dies Ir;e " 
 Forwards. Two plates 
 Study for a " Punch " Picture 
 Study for a " Punch " Picture 
 A Lock . 
 An Outside Car . 
 More ''Revenge for the Union" .... 
 Charles Keene. From a photograph . . . face 
 Portrait of Mr. Stacy Marks, R.A., in "Punch" . 
 " A Treacherous Confederate " . . . . face 
 A " Suggestion " by Mr. Crawhall .... 
 
 " A Modern Athenian " 
 
 Lapsus Linguae . . . . . . ... 
 
 Tailpiece ......... 
 
 Study of Trees face 
 
 A Scavenger. In the City face 
 
 An Ostler ......... 
 
 A Seaside ......... 
 
 From the Oil Painting by Sir George Reid, P.R.S.A. 
 
 A Pleasant Prospect face 
 
 The News. From the original water-colour . . face 
 A Fireside Reverie . . . . . face 
 Preliminary Study for " A Fireside Reverie " . 
 Grief face 
 
 89 
 90 
 
 03 
 10 
 16 
 18 
 19 
 
 24 
 
 3i 
 
 34 
 39 
 43 
 52- 
 57 
 63 
 67 
 70 
 
 75 
 81 
 
 87 
 94 
 95 
 99 
 205 
 208 
 220 
 228 
 
 2 33 
 238 
 
 2 45 
 2 53 
 261 
 261 
 271 
 

 
 XXI 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Girl's Head ........ 
 
 face 
 
 279 
 
 A Rustic Suitor 
 
 
 288 
 
 Study of Heads 
 
 face 
 
 2 95 
 
 Study for one of the Portraits of Thackeray 
 
 
 
 in the " Edition de Luxe " of the Novelist's 
 
 
 
 Works . . . . 
 
 face 
 
 3°5 
 
 A North Briton 
 
 
 312 
 
 " Between Two Shoeblacks we Fall," &c. . 
 
 face 
 
 323 
 
 A Crying Child 
 
 
 335 
 
 A Rejected Contribution to " Punch " 
 
 face 
 
 35i 
 
 Portrait of the old Southwold Pensioner . 
 
 face 
 
 354 
 
 Portrait of Himself, in lieu of Letter to Mr. Mills 
 
 356 
 
 A Letter Writer ....... 
 
 face 
 
 366 
 
 Tailpiece . ... 
 
 
 374 
 
 A Hunter 
 
 
 377 
 
 Bumble 
 
 face 
 
 384 
 
 Irish Ingenuity ....... 
 
 
 395 
 
 Tailpiece ........ 
 
 
 403 
 
 Study of a Tree 
 
 
 4°5 
 
 'Arry on the Boulevards 
 
 face 
 
 418 
 
 A Countryman 
 
 face 
 
 429 
 
 Carriage Horses ..... . 
 
 
 433 
 
 A Doze . . . . . . 
 
 
 441 
 
 Tailpiece ...... . 
 
 
 444 
 
 Tailpiece ........ 
 
 
 456 
 
 Headpiece to Index ...... 
 
 
 457 
 
 Tailpiece 
 
 
 463 
 
THE LIFE AND LETTERS OF 
 
 Charles Samuel Mttnt. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 1823— 1844. 
 
 Birth.— Father.— Mother.— The Sparrows.— School in Queen's 
 Road.— The Corboulds. — Truants.— Ipswich.— Grammar School. 
 —Old House in the Butter Market.— "The Sparrows' Nest."— 
 Mr. Farrar Ranson. — Professor Cowell. — Major-General Mercer. 
 —Character.— First artistic leanings.— Death of father.— Great 
 Coram Street. — Choice of profession. — Fumival's Inn. — Mr. Pil- 
 kington, architect. — Apprenticeship to the Whympers. — " Robin- 
 son Crusoe."— Letter, 1842.— George Ingelow.— Miss Ingelow. 
 
 Mr. Henry Silver.— Mr. W. L. Thomas.— Mr. Swain.— First 
 Studio. — Dr. Dulcken. — Scene-painting with the late C. Marshall. 
 —Smoking.— "Fairy Pipes."— " Dottles."— Letter, 1844. 
 
 HARLES SAMUEL KEENE was 
 born in Duval's Lane, Hornsey, on 
 August 10, 1823. His father, Samuel 
 Browne Keene, solicitor, of Furnival's 
 Inn, was the second son of a lawyer, and succeeded 
 to the paternal business. The elder brother, William 
 Charles Lever Keene, was called to the bar, and 
 reached some eminence in his profession. Keene's 
 
 B 
 
2 
 
 Cljarleg I&eene 
 
 grandfather would seem to have been a man of con- 
 siderable means, having educated both his sons at 
 Eton. His father died on January 3, 1838, and was 
 buried in St. Lawrence's Church, Ipswich. 
 
 His mother was Mary Sparrow, daughter of John 
 Sparrow, of the Butter Market, Ipswich. She was 
 the youngest of a family of two sons and four 
 daughters, "one," as Mr. Farrar Ranson writes, " I 
 remember, of a very handsome set of sisters." The 
 Sparrows, or Sparrowes, as they formerly spelled 
 their name, were, for over three hundred years, a 
 leading family of the old town. From the year 1567 
 they inhabited the grand old mansion in the Butter 
 Market, now a bookseller's shop, and one of the 
 greatest architectural curiosities in the country. 
 
 Samuel and Mary Keene had, besides Charles 
 Samuel, one son, Henry Eddowes Keene, and three 
 daughters, Mary Grace Keene (now Mrs. Alfred 
 Corbould), Anne Sparrow Keene, and Kate Lever 
 Keene. Soon after the birth of Charles, their eldest, 
 they removed from Hornsey, then a rural suburb of 
 London, to a house in Margaret Street, Cavendish 
 Square, W., and subsequently to Great Coram 
 Street, a neighbourhood remarkable as having 
 housed the three greatest of " Punch's" contributors — 
 Thackeray, Leech, and the subject of this memoir. 
 Of Charles's early years there is little to be recorded. 
 About the year 1830 he, with his younger brother, 
 was put to a boarding-school in the Queen's Road, 
 Bayswater, then as much in the country as it is now 
 in the town. This school was kept by two old 
 
3 
 
 ladies named Johnson, known respectively as " the 
 big" and " the little," the former coming in, it is re- 
 corded, for considerable ridicule behind her back, for 
 
 A CROSSING SWEEPER. 
 
 the extraordinary turban which she was in the habit 
 of wearing. Here it was that a friendship was com- 
 menced between the Keenes and Alfred and Henry 
 Corbould, the former of whom was destined in 1848 
 
4 
 
 Cljarleg Beene 
 
 to marry the eldest Miss Keene. These two boys 
 were sons of Henry Corbould, who held an appoint- 
 ment in the Artistic Department of the British 
 Museum. The head of the educational establish- 
 ment, where this friendship was first struck up, would 
 seem to have resorted to all the time-honoured 
 means of catching scholars in flagrant delict — as, for 
 example, departure from the room and down the 
 stairs with heavy and perceptible footsteps, followed 
 on the instant by a tip-toe unperceived return to the 
 hinder side of the door. " I say," it would be 
 whispered, " now Old Johnson's gone, let's do this,, 
 that, or the other," to which there would come the 
 startling and chilling response — "But supposing 
 ' Old Johnson ' has come back again ? " and it would 
 become evident that the turban had that time scored 
 a point. But even her vigilance was on occasion 
 evaded. There are vivid recollections of three 
 small runaway boys — Charles, Henry, and their 
 friend Alfred — escaped from school for one whole 
 glorious day, with pocket-money lavished on a 
 dinner of steak and vinegar, and a whip of workable 
 proportions. Communication affected at once by the 
 lady-principal with the parents in Great Coram Street, 
 but without result, until a voluntary return was made 
 towards evening ; and then the glory of a day 
 quenched in tears, as one by one they discovered 
 the very workable proportions of their own lash — 
 
 " For 'tis the sport to have the engineer 
 Hoist with his own petard." 
 
 Shortly before the death of Keene's father the 
 
%\Zz at IpStoi'cl) 
 
 5 
 
 family removed to Ipswich, and Charles and Henry 
 were sent to the Grammar School, then under the 
 head-mastership of the Rev. J. Ebden. The school 
 was in those days situated in Foundation Street, and 
 was carried on in the ancient refectory of the Black 
 Friars, a very different structure to the smart modern 
 buildings in the Henley Road. Tradition still sur- 
 vives of a great pugilistic battle between Charles 
 and a schoolfellow, in which, I am glad to say, justice 
 does not compel me to admit that our hero was 
 worsted. At this time it was, no doubt, surrounded 
 by Suffolk relations, and having the run of the 
 beautiful old family house in the Butter Market, 
 about which clung the traditions of three hundred 
 years of unbroken residence— the old house with the 
 secret room, ingeniously concealed by a sliding 
 panel, which had been fitted up as a private chapel or 
 oratory, and in which it is handed down that Charles 
 II. was concealed after the battle of Worcester — that 
 his namesake first imbibed that love of ancientry — 
 not, I think, of the snobbish sort — and, more espe- 
 cially, that love of all things East Anglian, which made 
 him always bitterly regret that he had been born in 
 suburban Hornsey. He always considered, and in- 
 deed spoke of himself, as an Eastern Counties man, 
 and nothing pleased him less than to be writ down 
 cockney with Hogarth and Cruikshank. A picture 
 of this beautiful old house, engraved after a drawing 
 by Mr. William Sparrow, 1 may be seen in "The 
 History and Description of the Town and Borough 
 1 An uncle of the subject of this memoir. 
 
Cfjarlesf J&zznz 
 
 of Ipswich," printed and published at Ipswich by 
 S. Piper, about the year 1830; and another very 
 beautiful one in " Excursions through Suffolk," 
 published in the year 1818. 
 
 In those days the house was full of family portraits, 
 and the vault in the church of St. Lawrence, in 
 which parish it was situated, was full of Sparrows 
 dead and gone. Nidus Passerum, " The Sparrows' 
 Nest," is the charming conceit inscribed over this 
 their last resting-place ; and the same name is 
 borne by an old mansion in the parish of Whitton, 
 built by a Sparrowe in the beginning of the seven- 
 teenth century, the name naturally lending itself to 
 humorous application. There are indeed those still 
 living who can recollect a spiteful sermon being 
 preached at a member of the family from the text 
 " Ye are of more value than many sparrows ! " 
 
 Mr. Farrar Ranson, late Mayor of Norwich, well 
 remembers the Keenes at this period — both most 
 gentlemanly lads, Charles always quiet and thought- 
 ful. Many a holiday ramble these three boys took 
 together ; different from all other boys in the 
 town, in that they wore " shiny black leather- 
 topped caps with peaks." Young Ranson would 
 bring his pony on which to ride and tye, and 
 vivid is his recollection of the Keenes' long legs 
 dangling down, sometimes two, sometimes all four 
 at once, from the pony's devoted back. 
 
 As to Charles's appearance, Professor Cowell, who 
 was a Grammar School boy with the Keenes, writes : 
 " I have a distinct remembrance of his striking face, 
 
^ccgonal appearance 
 
 7 
 
 almost girlish at that time in its extreme delicacy of 
 feature." This description supports the tradition 
 that his nickname amongst his schoolfellows was 
 " Miss Keene." And further, his sister tells me of 
 Charles and a boy cousin, both slim, delicate-featured 
 lads, dressing up as maid-servants, and applying to 
 Mrs. Keene for a do- 
 mestic situation, with the 
 result that one of them 
 — which, history does 
 not relate — was actually 
 engaged for the place ! 
 Major- General Mercer 
 also writes to me : 
 " Charles Keene and I 
 were in the same class 
 at the Grammar School 
 at Ipswich in 1836-7, 
 and the friendship which 
 was there formed lasted CHA rles keene, aged 9. 
 
 for many years. He From a Drawing by S. Read. 
 
 was always of a gentle 
 
 disposition, and even as a boy affected the little 
 refinements and courtesies of society, which he 
 derived from a graceful and highly cultivated 
 mother. Her tender heart, and tall, dignified figure, 
 left an impression on my youthful mind which was 
 never effaced." 
 
 At this period he seems to have shown a distinct 
 inclination towards that art which was destined to 
 render his name famous, although it must be con- 
 
8 
 
 Cfjarleg Beene 
 
 fessed that the idle embellishments of his school- 
 books show no traces of any precocious talent. 
 H owever, the disposition was there shown in his 
 Odyssey towards the pictorial representation of 
 H omeric deeds ; and, as Professor Cowell writes 
 further : " I well remember he was passionately fond 
 of drawing. He used to astonish me by the charm- 
 ing pencil and pen-and-ink sketches which he could 
 dash off in a moment — girls' heads, farm scenes, or 
 caricatures." The reserve which characterized 
 K eene in after life was remarkable also in his youth. 
 It was from the first an inherent peculiarity, and not, 
 as is so often the case, the result of an impaired 
 or disordered constitution. Notwithstanding this 
 characteristic however, which was probably the out- 
 come of modesty, certainly not of sullenness, we 
 find in boyish years as well as in manhood an ever- 
 ready inclination for a bit of fun. There are visions 
 now of a long-legged schoolboy executing a waltz 
 with servant Susan in the Ipswich nursery, to the 
 uncertain accompaniment of a hand-organ turned 
 with might and main by the baby sister, perched 
 upon the summit of an old press. 
 
 In 1838 Charles's father died, and in the autumn 
 of 1839 the widow returned to London to the house 
 in Great Coram Street. This move was prompted 
 by the desire to carry out her husband's express wish 
 that Charles should be placed with his late partner 
 in Furnival's Inn, with a view to his taking up law 
 as his profession in life. A letter written by Mrs. 
 Keene about this period makes the following allusion 
 
9 
 
 to his character : " I hope you will come," she writes, 
 " and see us. You will find your friends much 
 grown, and my dear Charles, tho' a very steady 
 youth, as addicted to fun as ever." 
 
 In 1840 he entered the office, but from the first, 
 tradition says, he showed far more industry in the 
 illustration of his blotting-pad than in his study of 
 legal precedents. Indeed, now in his seventeenth 
 year, so evident was the direction in which his taste 
 lay, that his mother, with an unusual wisdom, deter- 
 mined to seize the very first opportunity of finding 
 him more congenial occupation. An opportunity 
 soon presented itself, and he was removed from 
 Furnival's Inn and placed in the office of a Mr. 
 Pilkington, an architect, carrying on business in 
 Scotland Yard. Here he became a great favourite, 
 and found the work somewhat more congenial, but 
 still it was only a step in the right direction. He 
 had not yet got on to the track which he was to tread 
 with such unerring certainty to an undying fame. 
 
 Out of office hours he occupied himself with figure 
 drawing, executing mainly small subjects of an 
 historical or nautical description in water-colour. 
 For these his mother showed great appreciation, and 
 declared that they had a saleable value ; but he, like 
 Fred Walker, modest almost to diffidence when his 
 work was in question, pooh-poohed as absurd the idea 
 of seeking a market. His mother, however, not to be 
 turned from her opinion, carefully collected these 
 unconsidered trifles, and, as Charles would take no 
 steps in the matter, boldly took them off herself to 
 
IO 
 
 Cljarleg l&eene 
 
 try what fortune might await them in Paternoster 
 Row. At first her efforts were unsuccessful, but 
 she, strong in the strength of a mother's admiration, 
 and with an energy which characterized her through 
 life, persisted, and was at last rewarded by the dis- 
 covery of a purchaser, who requested that any further 
 productions might be submitted to him, as he was 
 disposed to treat for more. The price of course was 
 small enough, but we can imagine with what a glow 
 of pride and triumph at her heart Mrs. Keene 
 returned, and handed over to her son the first few 
 coins that he had himself earned for pocket-money. 
 Stimulated to further exertion by his success, Charles 
 continued some time to turn out a regular supply ; 
 and well it was that he did so, for it was through 
 them that he got his foot upon the ladder which was 
 to raise him to be the supreme English exponent of 
 Black-and-White Art; and, like many another man, 
 he had to thank a good mother for the start he got. 
 
 A stranger was seated in the dealer's shop one day 
 when a batch of the drawings was brought in. He 
 turned them over carelessly, then with more attention, 
 and finally closely examined them. Finding them 
 much to his liking, he made inquiries as to the artist. 
 This led to Charles's introduction to one of the 
 Whympers, a member of the well-known Lambeth 
 firm of wood-engravers, who proposed that he 
 should throw up his work at Scotland Yard and be 
 bound to them as apprentice. This was finally 
 agreed to, and under them it was that Charles 
 Keene, like Fred Walker, acquired his knowledge 
 
iFt'csft clxLtootiaitcf 
 
 of the technique of wood-engraving. The Whym- 
 pers were two brothers whose business consisted in 
 the illustration of books sent by publishers to them 
 for that purpose. They employed a large number 
 
 REPRODUCTION FROM A PROOF OF MR. COOPER'S WOOD BLOCK 
 FOR THE "ROBINSON CRUSOE.'' 
 
 of apprentices to draw designs upon the wood, and 
 Charles Keene was bound to them for live years in 
 this capacity, as " the inimitable George" and H. K. 
 Browne had been before him to William Finden. 
 During three years much work must have been 
 
12 
 
 Cljacleg l&eene 
 
 done of which no record is to be found, — work 
 probably more or less of a perfunctory and irksome 
 character, but work which strengthened his capacity 
 for taking infinite pains, which in after years so 
 essentially characterized his genius. He early 
 learned the supreme lesson that the only royal 
 road to proficiency is laborious and painful exertion. 
 Fortunately for us a specimen of his work at this 
 period is preserved in the shape of several studies for 
 an illustrated edition of " Robinson Crusoe," and a 
 proof of one of the completed woodcuts is now in 
 the possession of his brother. This block bears the 
 signature " C. Keene," cut on the margin. Whether 
 these illustrations were ever published I have been 
 unable to discover, although there can, I think, be 
 little doubt about it, but no trace of the edition has 
 been found in the British Museum. 
 
 The following letter, written in 1842, will be read 
 with interest, as being the earliest epistolary pro- 
 duction which has come to hand. It cannot, how- 
 ever, be said to give much promise of the delightful 
 style which was developed in later years. 
 
 To T. W. Mercer, Esq} 
 
 " [1842.] " Sunday evening. 
 
 " My dear Mercer, 
 
 " I cannot express in words how far it is from 
 my wishes to damp or slight in any way the kind feel- 
 ings of my friends, and how near the desire is to my 
 
 1 Now General Mercer. 
 
Settee to (General 9$mzz 
 
 13 
 
 heart of retaining the esteem of yourself, and the few 
 others, firm, enduring, and lasting for ever and aye, 
 but I am afraid I do not go the right way to work, 
 and that there is in my constitution such a tendency 
 to carelessness and inactivity, as to render this latter 
 feeling suspicious and equivocal to those to whom I 
 should the least wish it to be so. Having said this, 
 might I, encouraged by the mild tenour of your 
 expostulation, ask you not again to doubt the fidelity 
 of my friendship from an occasional delay of letters 
 {mirabantur impudentiam suam). It is a modest 
 request certainly, and I hope it is not one you 
 will ever be required to grant. I have in fact 
 been so busy lately, that weeks have flown away 
 most marvellously, and, when I think of the arrears 
 I have to make up of correspondence to my friends, 
 I am very nearly appalled, and I have to summon 
 all my strength of mind to look my difficulties calmly 
 in the face. I wish you were here to spend the day 
 with me, for a day's absence from business is such an 
 unusual thing with me, I scarcely know what to do 
 with myself. I have been on the sick list lately, but 
 am quite recovered at last, and, on the strength of 
 my medical man's telling me he thought I worked 
 too hard, I mean to relax a little for a short time and 
 to be as jolly as I can. Dick Mayhew is coming up 
 in a week or so, and I anticipate having some sprees 
 with him. I am going to Drury Lane Theatre some 
 night this week, to see Macready personate Macbeth, 
 and which he performs splendidly. Lady Mac. is 
 taken by Mrs. Warner, whom perhaps you have 
 
Cljarleg Tkmu 
 
 heard of. She is a first-rate actress, and the above 
 is her best character. I wish you were in town to 
 go with me. I hope you will be able to go to the 
 Royal Academy Exhibition with me. You know, 
 amongst us artists, this is an event always anxiously 
 looked for. Did you hear of the Buckhounds 
 running the stag into the Regent's Park the other 
 day ? It created quite a sensation in the romantic 
 districts of Tottenham Court and the New Road. 
 What shocking accounts from India! The regiment 
 of Rifles that suffered I think young Harry Lumley 
 belongs to. There is going to be an increase of the 
 army and other terrible preparations to ' serve out ' 
 those niggers withal. That Shah Soojah seems 
 to be a queer customer. Did not he once put his 
 wife's eyes out ? I dreamed a dream the other 
 night. I was wandering about the fields, shady lanes, 
 with yourself and a host of females, ladies. We were 
 somehow or other characters in one of Shakespeare's 
 plays, I do not know which. It was a magnificent 
 illusion. I have not been to a dance for a long time ; 
 no doubt you have been enjoying yourself. What a 
 shocking thing that suicide of the Earl of Munster ! 
 I hope you will excuse this stupid scrawl, but I have 
 so little to say that can be comfortably said in 
 a letter, that I am unable to write a decent letter to 
 any body. Do write and tell me when you are 
 coming up. I hope we shall be able to pass more 
 time together than we hitherto have done, and there- 
 fore, dear Nick, don't call me too many names if I 
 conclude now, but if I can find anything to say I will 
 
15 
 
 write you again. Will you remember me to your 
 circle at home, and believe me ever, 
 
 " Yours truly, 
 
 " Charles Keene. 
 
 " P. S. — Excuse all bad spellings, blots, and 
 erasures. Have you done with the comic Latin 
 Grammar ? Vale" 
 
 During the first years of work in the Whympers' 
 studio Keene was living in the old home, No. 7, 
 Great Coram Street ; but a year or two before his 
 apprenticeship was served, his mother removed with 
 the rest of her children to Lewisham, and he went 
 into lodgings in Great Ormond Street. These 
 rooms were shared with an old Ipswich schoolfellow, 
 the late George Ingelow, himself an accomplished 
 artist, and brother of the well-known poetess. They 
 resided together until 1845, when the latter obtained 
 an appointment in India. Of their subsequent in- 
 timacy Miss Ingelow writes: "After my brother 
 went to India, they used to correspond. . . . Charles 
 Keene used for some time to illustrate those letters 
 all over, both inside and out, but that had afterwards 
 to be given up, for it was found that some of them 
 were stolen in the post for the sake of these illustra- 
 tions and characteristic sketches." 1 
 
 His term of apprenticeship to the Whympers over, 
 Keene, finding it necessary to have a regular studio 
 
 1 Some of Mr. Ingelow's Indian sketches were, at Keene's 
 instigation, reproduced in the " Illustrated London News." It 
 is grievous to relate that C. K.'s letters above mentioned were 
 destroyed. 
 
[6 
 
 in which he could work more conveniently, hired the 
 attic floor of an old house in the Strand, a ramshackle 
 place to which he became much attached, and stuck 
 
 A SLEEPING MAN. 
 
 to until it became even too dirty and dilapidated for 
 him — for we shall find that Keene, all through his 
 life, was very much at peace with dust and cobwebs. 
 
fetcanti Studio 
 
 17 
 
 The exact period during which he occupied this 
 room is not discoverable, but it is certain that he was 
 there in the latter part of 1852, for his sisters well 
 
 A SLEEPING MAN. 
 
 remember witnessing the funeral procession of the 
 Duke of Wellington from its windows. At that time 
 it must have been in a very ricketty condition, for 
 
 c 
 
i8 
 
 Cljarleg I&eene 
 
 there was much alarm lest the inmates of the Holy- 
 well Street houses, who had scaled, and established 
 themselves on, the roof, should become involuntary 
 and sudden visitors through the treacherous rafters. 
 It was approached by a decaying" staircase wholly 
 without light, and only those who were thoroughly 
 familiar with its twists and turnings could hope 
 to arrive with unbroken heads or shins at their 
 destination. The only safe way was to whistle 
 loudly at the bottom for Keene to open his door, 
 from which a faint light would issue. A favourite 
 resort of his friends, many now look back over forty 
 years regretfully at the never-to-be-repeated chatting 
 and singing and smoking in those romantic Bohemian 
 surroundings. It now stands but the corpse of a 
 house in a winding-sheet of advertisements, only 
 waiting its removal for the widening of the Strand. 
 
 It was about this time that he made the acquaint- 
 ance of one whose friendship was destined to have 
 a marked influence upon his future, a gentleman 
 through whose instrumentality he was to become 
 first associated with " Punch." I cannot do better 
 than give, although at the risk of slightly anticipating, 
 the early history of their acquaintance in Mr. Henry 
 Silver's own words : " My friendship with Charles 
 Keene began before the ' Fifties,' and ceased only 
 at his death. It lasted more than forty years, and 
 I cannot recollect that it was ever interrupted. He 
 was far too good a fellow to give or take offence, 
 or break off an old friendship. We first met at my 
 brother's rooms, with whom I came to live, and who 
 
"properties)" 
 
 19 
 
 had been Keene's schoolfellow. I was new to town 
 life then, although in my boyhood I had spent six 
 years at Charterhouse. Soon after our first meeting, 
 when my brother was away, Keene very kindly let me 
 live with him a while, as I was feeling lonely, know- 
 ing few people in London. He lodged in the small 
 passage leading from Southampton Row into Queen's 
 Square ; but he also rented a sky-parlour in the 
 Strand, not far from the office of the ' Illustrated 
 London News,' for which he then was working. 
 This served him for a studio and museum of quaint 
 properties ; and here he chiefly used to sit, amid a 
 chaos of old costumes, armour, proof-sheets, books, 
 and crockery, and all manner of artistic waifs and 
 strays and odds and ends, with a battered old lay 
 figure for his personal companionship. A sort of 
 ship's stove served for fireplace, and further nautical 
 appearance was afforded by a hammock, which was 
 slung for actual use as well as picturesqueness. 
 Here, whatever was the temperature, and in spite 
 of the ship's stove, he often worked in a pea-jacket. 
 There was always a warm welcome for any friend 
 who chose to mount the attic heights. Keene was a 
 great smoker, and 'Have a pipe ?' were usually the 
 first words of his greeting. There were pipes meet 
 for all comers, but for himself he always smoked a 
 short, old-fashioned little clay, dating very possibly 
 from the days when good King James put forth his 
 famous ' Counterblast.' If not between his lips, his 
 pet was seldom far away from them, and, being small 
 of bowl, it needed frequent filling. A flint and steel 
 
20 
 
 Cfjarleg I&eene 
 
 and coil of tinder served instead of match-box ; and 
 the use of this machinery, as well as the care taken 
 in knocking out the ashes and replenishing the pipe, 
 made smoking seem in such wise a laborious occu- 
 pation. I think he did not relish much his work 
 upon the ' News,' though it was doubtless good 
 apprenticeship, and afforded him fair scope fcr 
 making figure sketches. But bazaars and public 
 meetings were little to his taste, nor had he any 
 relish for ship-launches and marriages, and State or 
 civic ceremonies. Especially he disliked to draw a 
 public dinner or dance attendance at a ball, to sketch 
 the guests assembled there. I can call to mind, 
 however, an exceptional occurrence, when he came 
 home rather late from a fashionable party, where, he 
 confessed frankly, he had been well entertained, 
 though not by the fair hostess ; for, while sketching 
 in the vestibule, he was suddenly addressed by a 
 Society reporter, who was noting down the names- 
 and titles of the company. ' Delightful party, ain't 
 it ? ' said the loquacious gentleman to Keene, finding 
 no one else to talk to. ' I always like her lady- 
 ship's,' he added, with a smile of benignant self- 
 complacence. ' Y'see, one meets such charming 
 people,' he obligingly explained, as he jotted down a 
 duchess who swept serenely past him. 
 
 " Excepting, perhaps, in the matter of tobacco, 
 Keene was always most abstemious, caring nought 
 for wine, and dining chiefly at a chop-house. When 
 I lived with him he always had a bit of bacon for 
 his breakfast, and for his mental diet some old well- 
 
2 1 
 
 thumbed volume, propped up by the toast-rack for 
 convenience in reading. A newspaper he rarely- 
 read, nor many new books either ; but for old books, 
 such as Froissart, he had a special fondness, and 
 he was exceedingly well versed in quaint old English 
 literature. This taste of his explains in some degree 
 the rapid way in which his intimacy ripened, though 
 begun quite late in life, with his friend Edward 
 Fitzgerald, who lived chiefly in the past and hated 
 modern literature. Some while before they met, 
 Fitzgerald had been the hero of a drawing which I 
 wanted Keene to do, but which he thought Mark 
 Lemon might decline as being ' cruel,' for Mark 
 always had a horror of printing what might possibly 
 be thought a painful subject, however humorous the 
 Avriter or the artist might imagine it. While yacht- 
 ing one day with my brother and myself, Fitzgerald 
 was jerked overboard by a sudden 'jibe,' a mishap 
 which he had been warned might very likely happen. 
 He was calmly reading a Greek play at the time, 
 and when we fished him inboard the book was held 
 still in his hand, and he quietly resumed his reading. 
 I fear I may have hinted that reading a Greek play 
 was deemed rather dry work, but was hardly so in 
 his case ; and I remember he declined a proffered 
 change of clothes, saying no harm could be done by 
 a ducking in salt water. 
 
 " Keene cared little for the theatre in those early 
 days of ours, when we were often thrown together. 
 He would, however, sometimes join a party to go to 
 the French plays, and see Regnier or Rachel ; but 
 
22 
 
 Cljacless beetle 
 
 it was mostly at the bidding of our good friend ' the 
 Doctor,' now Sir Alfred Garrod, who very often 
 went with us. Charles certainly loved Shakespeare,, 
 but less upon the stage than in the study or the 
 folio. I remember his once joining in a rural read- 
 ing of the " Midsummer Night's Dream," and the 
 force which, as Lysander, he threw into his abuse of 
 Hermia — 
 
 ' Hang off, thou cat, thou bur, vile thing, let loose, 
 Or I will shake thee from me like a serpent ' — 
 
 seemed so to frighten the young lady, that he suddenly 
 stopped short, and said very gravely, ' I'm sure I 
 beg your pardon, but it's really in the play, you 
 know.' 
 
 " Though he went rarely to the opera, Keene 
 was very fond of music, and mostly of old vocal 
 music. His tuning-fork was always ready to his 
 hand, and when he chanced to pick up any frag- 
 ment of old minstrelsy he would often begirt to hum 
 it over while he breakfasted. He had a fine bass 
 voice, and sung for some years in the chorus of 
 the Handel Festival, where I happened to sit near 
 him. He likewise was a member of the Henry 
 Leslie Choir, and of the merry Moray Minstrels ; 
 and, although he very seldom cared to sing a solo, his 
 ' Three Ravens ' proved delightful, both for quality of 
 tone and for pathos of expression. The quaintness 
 of his taste was shown by his election, rather late in 
 life, to play upon the bagpipes. How far he suc- 
 ceeded in mastering that wondrous instrument I 
 candidly confess myself incompetent to judge. The 
 
23 
 
 practice must have pleased him, or he surely would 
 have stopped it sooner than he did. 
 
 " Yet so good an ear for music must assuredly, one 
 may think, have suffered torture the most exquisite 
 in the first few score of trials at ' skirling ' on the 
 pipes." 
 
 As will be seen from the foregoing notes of Mr. 
 Silver, it was some time during the " Forties" that 
 Keene began to work in his garret in the Strand. 
 The following reminiscences of this his first studio 
 have been kindly revived for me by Mr. W. L. 
 Thomas, of the " Graphic." 
 
 " I recollect him well when he had an attic in the 
 Strand, opposite Norfolk Street — a gabled house, 
 with his room projecting, and the floor sloping in an 
 alarming manner over the street. One had to climb 
 a dark, ricketty staircase, and, after fumbling among 
 some old woodwork, you found the door. You then 
 had to make your way by dodging and stooping your 
 head amone clothes-lines drawn across the room, 
 carrying all sorts of old costumes and properties, 
 until, on gaining the light, the tall figure of our friend 
 would slowly rise from his work and greet you with 
 that peculiarly pleasant (but somehow somewhat 
 sad) smile. The short Cromwellian clay-pipe was 
 instantly filled — it only held a thimbleful of tobacco — 
 and a dilapidated chair or stool was drawn up to the 
 hearth. A few coals taken out of the corner of the 
 room, where they had been deposited, were put on 
 the fire, and the friendly chat began. A large hand- 
 some cheval glass, looking peculiarly out of place, was 
 
2 4 
 
 CljarlejS I&eene 
 
 a conspicuous object, and was used largely by Keene 
 to reflect his own figure, as the most useful and in- 
 expensive model, and always at hand. You can 
 easily trace the result of using this mirror in his 
 drawings. At this period the figures portrayed were 
 always tall, with long legs and large feet. By the 
 way, I saw at the exhibition of his works a careful 
 study of this room, but it must have been consider- 
 ably tidied up before sitting for its portrait." 
 
 The study here referred to is in water-colour, and 
 had been made during these early years, and given 
 to his friend, the late Mr. J. M. Stewart, and finally, 
 many years afterwards, bought by Keene himself at 
 a sale of that gentleman's collection at Christie's. It 
 is interesting to notice the pre-Raphaelite character 
 of this drawing. There is no doubt that Keene was 
 at one time much influenced by the movement of 
 Holman Hunt and his associates. 
 
 Of this room, too, Mr. Swain, the eminent wood- 
 engraver, sends me the following account : — 
 
 " Many years ago, when Mr. Keene was making 
 his early drawings for ' Punch,' I paid him a visit, at 
 his studio in an old house in the Strand. 
 
 " I found him in a big room at the top of the house. 
 He was seated at table at work, and there was 
 just space to walk up to him, the room being full of 
 odds and ends such as an artist delights in — old 
 costumes hanging about, old books, old hats, etc. I 
 was struck with a row of boots and shoes, some 
 of them covered with dust, those at one end of 
 the room having apparently been recently in use r 
 
25 
 
 while those at the other end had seemingly been 
 discarded. I believe Mr. Keene had a very strong 
 objection to any woman entering the room to put it 
 tidy." 
 
 An amusing commentary upon these last words of 
 Mr. Swain's description will be found upon page 120 
 of "Punch" for September 20, 1856, in part iii. of 
 "Englishmen in Brittany." Here we have Keene 
 drawn by himself, holiday-beard and all, returned to 
 his studio only to find the dreaded laundress " Mis- 
 tress of the situation." Most of us know the horror 
 of having the harmonious discord of our dens or 
 study tables disturbed by unseasonable putting in 
 order. Keene's reconciliation to this delightful 
 state of jumble and confusion would seem to have 
 continued to, and become intensified in, his latest 
 years. We find him writing in 1889, "I have been 
 all day digging out fossil numbers of ■ Punch' from 
 all sorts of superincumbent strata in my den, bed- 
 room," etc. 
 
 Of his appearance at this time Dr. Dulcken, the 
 translator of " German Songs from the Sixteenth 
 to the Nineteenth Century," which was one of the 
 earliest books illustrated by Keene, and of which 
 more particular mention will be found anon, sends 
 me the following account : — 
 
 " I remember him a very grave, saturnine-looking 
 young fellow, with a face like a young Don 
 Quixote, — shy even to awkwardness with strangers, 
 but lighting up immensely among friends. He 
 had a quiet, humorous way with him, and was 
 
26 
 
 Cljacletf l&eene 
 
 very popular already then among men of his 
 own age. He lived at that time in a street off 
 Holborn, and I have reminiscences of pleasant 
 evenings there with some friends of his, especially 
 a Mr. Stewart, to whom he seemed much at- 
 tached. He had at that time the queerest of 
 Bohemian studios, in the top floor of an old- 
 fashioned house in the narrow part of the Strand 
 on the north side, a few doors from David Mill's, 
 the bookseller's. Here were accumulated heaps of 
 artistic 'properties,' which would have done honour 
 to the study of Scott's Antiquary, Mr. Jonathan 
 Oldbuck — old illustrated books and soldiers' ac- 
 coutrements — photographic apparatus (a novelty in 
 those days) and ' Guy Fawkes ' lanterns — and over 
 all, the strongest of suspicions of ' cut Cavendish ' 
 tobacco, ' not unconnected,' as a reporter would say, 
 with ocular evidence in the shape of short clay pipes 
 with blackened bowls and stems. He took a great 
 fancy at that time to some German woodcuts in 
 Menzel's ' Frederick the Great and his Soldiers,' 
 and indeed the German style of drawing for book 
 illustrations considerably influenced him at that 
 time. You may notice this in such cuts as ' The 
 old Soldier to his Cloak,' ' The Hostess' Daughter,' 
 the 'Soldier Song,' etc., in the book of 'German 
 Songs.' By the way, the sapient ' Saturday Review,' 
 in a tolerably favourable notice of the book, recom- 
 mended that these illustrations should be omitted 
 in a subsequent edition, as ' tasteless and stupid in 
 the last degree.' Later times did not endorse the 
 
28 
 
 Cljarleg I&eene 
 
 ' Saturday's ' verdict as to the value of Charles 
 Keene's work." 
 
 It was during his tenancy of the Strand studio 
 that Keene was often the occupant of a seat in the 
 gallery of the Royal Italian Opera, 1 and revelled 
 in the performances of Grisi, Mario, Lablache, 
 Fornisari, and Persiani. Those were, however, 
 red-letter nights. As often as not he would hear 
 the opera, without seeing the performers, through 
 the opening above the huge centre chandelier, for in 
 those days he was engaged by the late C. Marshall 
 to assist him in scene-painting, and the " atelier " 
 was situated immediately over the centre of the 
 auditorium. 
 
 All through his work-a-day life Keene was an 
 inveterate smoker. For many years he smoked 
 nothing but the little clay "plague pipes," about 
 which so much has been written of late years, and 
 which he declared had a sweetness of their own 
 unequalled by any of modern manufacture. 2 These 
 were procured for him from time to time in large 
 quantities by many of his friends. Their antiquity 
 and quaintness were a source of delight to him, and 
 
 1 This was of course the old house, which was subsequently 
 burnt down. 
 
 2 A roar of laughter went up from a group of Keene's friends 
 at the Arts Club a short time since, when one of their number 
 read out from an evening paper a description of " his curious 
 little metal pipe (which seemed to have come from Japan, though 
 it did not)." Surely the ways of the penny-a-liner are wonderful. 
 What an infinite source of " copy " this negative treatment of 
 subjects must prove. 
 
"fair? $fpeg" 
 
 29 
 
 often he would make presents of a more than 
 usually perfect specimen to a favoured familiar. 
 One of these in later years he had mounted in silver 
 and presented to Sir John Millais, whose well- 
 known artistic signature Keene had engraved with 
 his own hand upon the bowl. Another he offered 
 to his friend Mr. Robert Dudley, emphasizing the 
 store he set by it with the proviso, " at least I will 
 if you promise to use it for smoking, because I have 
 only two or three now, and I shouldn't like it wasted 
 as a mere curiosity." 
 
 Amongst his papers was found a pamphlet dealing 
 with these pipes, believed by many to have been 
 used for smoking medicinally such herbs as coltsfoot, 
 yarrow, mouse-ear, long before tobacco was dreamt 
 of. From this pamphlet, "A few Words on Fairy 
 Pipes," by Llewellyn Jewett, F.S.A., etc., reprinted 
 from the "Reliquary" for January, 1863, I take the 
 following description, interesting to those who are 
 not familiar with the subject : — 
 
 "From the smallness of size of these early pipes 
 has, I presume, arisen their common name of ' Fairy 
 Pipes,' varied sometimes with 1 Elfin Pipes,' ' Mab 
 Pipes,' ' Danes' Pipes,' and I have heard them de- 
 signated by the characteristic name of ' Carls' Pipes,' 
 a name indicative of a belief in their ancient origin. 
 In Ireland they are believed to have belonged to 
 the Cluricanes, a kind of wild, mischievous fairy- 
 demon, and when found are at once broken up by 
 the superstitious 'pisantry.' In England they are 
 said to have belonged to the fairies, or 'old men'; 
 
3Q 
 
 Cljarle^ Beene 
 
 but, unlike their Irish brethren, our peasantry usually 
 preserve them, and in some districts believe that a 
 certain amount of good luck attends their possession. 
 I have known one of these pipes carried about the 
 person for years, and have heard its owner — a Peak- 
 man — declare in his native dialect, on being asked 
 to part with it, ' Nay, a'd part wi' a towth sowner ! ' 
 A quantity of these ' fairy pipes ' were found in the 
 parish of Old Swinford, Worcestershire, some few 
 years ago, and the country folks there had a tradi- 
 tion that it was a favourite spot for the resort of 
 Queen Mab and her Court, and that, among other 
 appendages of royalty, was a fairy pipe manufactory, 
 of which these were the remains." 
 
 Mr. J. P. Heseltine tells me that he provided his 
 friend with a large number, obtained from excava- 
 tions in the City. 
 
 The following quotation from a letter of later 
 years to his friend Mr. Crawhall further delightfully 
 illustrates the great store he set by them, as well as 
 the great " gust " for eclectic collecting which, as we 
 shall find, was destined to become one of his most 
 marked characteristics : — 
 
 " I'm sending you a couple of practicable ancient 
 tobacco pipes, I mean that you can smoke if you 
 are a smoker. I would not have sent them as curio- 
 sities. They make a very good cigar or cigarette 
 tube when mounted. The great ' find ' for them 
 here is the mud at the bottom of the Thames. I 
 believe these to have been found in digging the 
 foundations for the new Law Courts. I have 
 
"3Dottle0 " 
 
 31 
 
 found several myself between high and low water 
 at Richmond, when the steamers used to ply 
 there ! I very often dream that I'm by a river 
 with sandy banks, and picking up these pipes by 
 hundreds ! " 
 
 These pipes he always lighted with an old- 
 fashioned flint and steel, and his tobacco he carried 
 in a curious antique brass box. 
 
 Such tiny pipes wanted constantly clearing out 
 and refilling, and it was his habit to treasure up 
 the little plugs of black tobacco, so saturated with 
 nicotine that they would burn no longer, in an old 
 sardine-box kept for that purpose. When asked 
 what these curiosites were, he would say — 
 
 " Oh, those .'—those are ' dottles.' When I do a 
 drawing I think really so good as to deserve a 
 reward, I smoke a pipeful of ' dottles.' That's what 
 I keep them for." 
 
 Th ese plugs when dried formed a pipe-charge 
 strong enough to have poisoned a bargee. To- 
 wards the close of his life he discovered that he had 
 smoked too much, and entered into a compact with 
 a friend to abstain for a time. " When the six 
 months is over," he wrote, " I vote we have a whole 
 day's smoke, even if we keep on with the abstention 
 afterwards." 
 
 The following letter, written to a young lady 
 about the year 1844, will here be read with interest, 
 although it must make us bitterly regret that no 
 other letter of Keene's is forthcoming for the twenty 
 long struggling years which succeeded : — 
 
3^ 
 
 Cljfliletf l&eene 
 
 i l Saturday Morning, 
 " The Tunnel. 
 
 " Dear Rosa, 
 
 " I don't think I should like to hear the names 
 you called me this morning. Though I am never 
 on very good terms with Dame Fortune, that she 
 should have played me false in this case I call the 
 most unkindest cut of all. I woke in a great hurry 
 as the clock struck eight, dressed myself as if at my 
 soul's peril. I was to do it before Old Nick could 
 count twenty. I rushed off. I was persuaded to 
 fancy myself in luck by catching a 'bus in Holborn, 
 but it was of no avail. Your train had started five 
 minutes. However, I went to Blackwall. I thought 
 the boat might have been delayed by some chance, 
 and I might have time to kiss my hand and shy the 
 book on board ; but alas ! I have not time to en- 
 large on my ill luck, that you may get this this 
 evening. Oh ! I was intensely savage — not loud, 
 but deep — and thought of the trouble you perhaps 
 had with the five-and-twenty bandboxes ; but I hope 
 you had not, so on my defence I hope for free 
 pardon. 1 The quality of mercy is not strained.' 
 Hem ! So farewell. 
 
 " I remain — 
 
 ' : By Jove ! if you had seen the pace at which I 
 went over the ground between Chepe and the ter- 
 minus, you could not say I was not 
 " Your most 
 
 " Obedient and devoted slave, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 I 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 1845— 1850. 
 
 Samuel Read.—" Illustrated London News."— Journalistic illus- 
 tration.— " Artists' Society," Clipstone Street.— Tenniel, Lewis, 
 Haag, Calderon, Poynter, Wells, etc.— Sketching Club.— Lack of 
 appreciation by early associates. — Modesty. — " Graveur du XIX e 
 Sihle" — Hatred of interviewers.— Poor estimate of his own criti- 
 cal faculty. — Ballad of the Royal Academy. — Opinion of Franco- 
 Prussian War. 
 
 LTHOUGH Keene's term of appren- 
 ticeship to the Whympers was over, 
 and he had commenced work on his 
 own account, he still continued to do 
 commissions for them as required. 
 
 At this time his chief friend and associate in 
 artistic matters was the late Samuel Read, an old 
 Ipswich acquaintance, and, like Keene, engaged in 
 drawing on the wood for engravers. This was the 
 Samuel Read who afterwards became a very suc- 
 cessful water-colour painter, and a member of the 
 " Old Society." 
 
 He and Keene in these early years were much 
 together, and in company tried their fortune, sending 
 casual drawings to early numbers of the " Illustrated 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 Cfcaclegf l&etne 
 
 London News." These were accepted, and in the 
 course of time Read became manager of the Art 
 Department of that journal, which post he occupied 
 until his death a few years ago. 
 
 By degrees Keene dropped into a regular course 
 of journalistic illustration, and was required to dance 
 attendance — a class of work always distasteful to 
 him — at political meetings, ministerial receptions, 
 soirees, and such like, to make sketches of the rooms 
 and company. As time went on, and he found 
 himself able to do without pot-boiling work of that 
 kind, he gave it up, and confined himself to drawing 
 subjects for the Christmas numbers and any special 
 occasions. But this, of course, is anticipating. 
 
 In these years of which I write he was struggling 
 to earn enough to live upon, and was thankful to do 
 any work that was to be had. Definite dates of this 
 period are not to be got at. The first which can be 
 fixed upon with any degree of certainty is that on 
 which he entered upon the only definite artistic 
 training — if, indeed, self-discipline can in any proper 
 sense be so called — which he can ever be said to have 
 undergone. This was at the " Artists' Society," 
 then situated in Clipstone Street, Fitzroy Square, 
 but afterwards removed to the Langham Studios. 
 Keene became a member between the years 1848 
 and 1850. This society has been wrongly spoken 
 of as a life school. It was no such thing, as there 
 was no one there to teach. The living model, in 
 alternate weeks nude and costumed, was used by 
 men not in the student time, but by professional 
 
35 
 
 artists at work in their calling. It was managed by 
 a committee, the members of which by turn arranged 
 the model for the week, and the artists worked as 
 they pleased. By degrees, too, the society accumu- 
 lated a library of books on Art and a wardrobe of 
 costumes, which were lent to the members under 
 certain regulations. The present secretary, Mr. 
 Charles Cattermole, writes : " The society then only 
 occupied a large shed, or series of sheds, in a stone- 
 mason's yard, and there was no upper story ; it 
 was all on the ground floor." 
 
 Keene subsequently rented a part of this as a 
 studio after he removed from his attic in the- Strand. 
 It was at the meetings of this society that he fore- 
 gathered with many whose names have since become 
 famous, and some who were to be numbered amongst 
 his most intimate associates until the day of his death. 
 There was John Tenniel, who writes to me of Keene 
 as one of his oldest and dearest friends, and with 
 whom he was to work on " Punch " for nearly forty 
 years. There were the Brothers Dalziel, who were to 
 engrave the drawings for the first book that Keene 
 ever illustrated, so to speak, off his own bat. There 
 was Arthur Lewis, the originator of the "Jermyn 
 Band," in which Keene's deep voice was destined to 
 be heard, through all its vicissitudes, for over twenty 
 years. There was Carl Haag, destined so soon 1 
 to write R.W.S. after his name. There was John 
 Clayton, who in after years was to play so prominent 
 a part in the renaissance of the art of glass-painting, 
 
 1 In 1850. 
 
36 
 
 Cljarletf Beene 
 
 and whose friendship with Keene was only to come 
 to an end with life. There were Calderon, Poynter, 
 and H. T. Wells, now R. A.'s. There were the four 
 Williams', whose methods were so much alike that 
 they agreed to work under four different names 
 to prevent confusion, viz., Williams, Bodding- 
 ton, Percy, and Gilbert. There was E. Duncan, 
 father of the living artists of that name, and amongst 
 others were F. Smallfield, J. D. Wingfield, J. J. 
 Jenkins, F. W. Topham, H. C. Pidgeon, J. H. 
 Mole, W. W. Deane, and last, not least, Fred 
 Walker. 1 Much of Keene's work here from the 
 model was done working with the dry-point on 
 copper. On Friday nights the members formed 
 themselves into a sketching club. On these occasions 
 subjects were fixed upon, and two hours allowed 
 for their execution ; the results were then handed 
 round and good-naturedly criticised. To this he 
 belonged until 1856. It is curious and interesting 
 to discover that Keene's work at the society and the 
 club met with but little appreciation from his fellow- 
 members. Indeed, it probably never entered into 
 the head of any one of them that the grave, bashful, 
 long-legged fellow of twenty-seven, always smoking, 
 and talking but little, was ever likely to make any 
 mark in the world at all ; it certainly never occurred 
 to them that Nature had hall-marked him "genius,'' 
 and that at his death the century was to lose perhaps 
 
 1 Mr. H. Keene tells me he remembers Walker in those days 
 offering him a pile of his now almost priceless water-colours for a 
 sovereign or two. 
 
37 
 
 the greatest exponent of the Art of Black-and-White 
 that it had seen. 1 Such however, seems to have 
 been the fact, and it is certain that Keene was the 
 last person in the world to recognize this exceptional 
 potentiality in himself; and we may be sure that 
 if he had, modest and unassuming as he was, almost 
 to a fault, he was never going to claim for himself a 
 recognition from others that was not spontaneously 
 given. 
 
 Years afterwards said one of his French admirers, 
 astonished at a reticence almost inconceivable to a 
 citizen of that volatile nation, " On se sentait vrai- 
 ment en presence de quelqu'un qui ignorait sa 
 valeur." 
 
 And so it was all through his life. He never 
 seemed to realize that he was anything more than a 
 hard-working pot-boiler, doing his work certainly as 
 best he could, but not a high soaring genius to 
 be feted, puffed, and written about. 
 
 In 1888 his beautiful etchings, which he set so 
 little store by that he never had them published, 
 having received a proper recognition in the French 
 capital, and application having been made to him for 
 particulars of his career, he wrote to his friend Mrs. 
 Edwards : — 
 
 1 This allegation is not altogether borne out, by the fact that 
 from early times the club has possessed one of his drawings, 
 claimed by the members as of exceptional merit. However, 
 so definitely was I again assured on my visit to the Sketching 
 Club, when I supped with the members at the invitation of 
 Mr. Cattermole, that this lack of recognition could not be denied, 
 that the text must be allowed to stand for what it is worth. 
 
33 
 
 Cfjarle£ l&tene 
 
 " I am amused at the idea of putting me down 
 as a ' Graveur du XIX e Siecle ' ! I have only 
 scratched a few studies of sketches, not more than 
 a dozen all told, I should think — the merest experi- 
 ments ! Titles they have not. To save my life 
 I couldn't tell the dates — and as to writing my life ! 
 ' Story, God bless you, sir, I've none to tell' A 
 quotation to that effect. ' The most stirring incidents 
 in my life are a visit to the dentist (date forgotten) 
 and certain experiences of the last few days.' Try to 
 choke the French biographer off." 
 
 About the same time a friend wished to inscribe a 
 book of poems to him, and sent a poetical dedication, 
 asking if he had any objection to his printing it with 
 the rest. " I tore my hair ! " he writes, " and figura- 
 tively wrote to him ' on my knees ' to spare me this. 
 What a fluster I was in ! I've been relieved ever 
 since, as he has written giving way to my whim. I 
 breathe again ! " 
 
 All through his life he deprecated the discussion 
 of his own work, and, although quick to acknow- 
 ledge excellence where he distinguished it in others, 
 showed a habitual dislike to canvass the demerits of 
 those whose work he did not admire. " His ways," 
 writes Mr. Tenniel, " were always so simple and 
 retiring, his life so entirely uneventful, so far as I 
 know it, and he was, moreover, so reserved in all 
 matters concerning himself, especially in connection 
 with his art." 
 
 Towards the close of his life he was approached 
 by interviewers, a class, as may be imagined, not at all 
 
3ntetiJtetoei# 
 
 39 
 
 to his liking. " I wish," he wrote, " you had seen the 
 ' Interview ' with in the . It made me shud- 
 der. I enclose you a note I have had since from the 
 journalist. I was very short with the snob in my 
 answer. I was as polite as I could be, but it was 
 difficult." And again to another friend : " Did you 
 read those ' Revelations ' in the ? I'm not sur- 
 prised at , but I cannot understand falling 
 
 in so complaisantly with these snobs of penny-a-liners. 
 I had to choke the fellow off, which I did as politely 
 as I could, but this is difficult." And again : " I have 
 never, that I know of, met or heard of your Art critic 
 friend with the Highland name. Does he live in 
 London ? I am very shy of these fellows ; they are 
 so ready to pump you, and you find your name in a 
 penny-paper paragraph in no time." 
 
 Another phase of his modesty was the poor esti- 
 mate in which he held his own critical faculty. He 
 was in the world to do his best as a maker of pictures. 
 It was distasteful to, and, moreover, he felt it out of 
 place for, him to sit in judgment on the work of his 
 contemporaries. 
 
 Asked by a publisher to allow his private opinion, 
 contained in a letter, of the original work of a mutual 
 friend to be publicly quoted, he wrote : " I have 
 always had, and have, a very strong objection to 
 putting myself before the ' Public ' as a critic or any 
 sort of authority (even sideways, as in this letter you 
 wish to quote), or in any way whatever except as a 
 
 working artist. I am sure C would understand 
 
 this scruple of mine (and I hope you will) and excuse 
 
40 
 
 Cljacleg T&tmt 
 
 me. Entre nous, I believe that his capital original 
 work will take by its own merits, and does not want 
 testimonials from anybody. I suppose you have not 
 said anything to him of this idea of my letter, so I 
 shall not say a word to him about it. 
 
 " So I must ask you not to quote me publicly as a 
 critic or authority in your prospectus. 
 
 " Yours sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 " P.S. — I certainly do not dub myself' of" Punch." 
 In any case this might compromise me with the 
 proprietary of that journal." 
 
 Whilst, however, refusing to be publicly quoted as 
 a critic, that he did not refrain from giving his 
 opinions to his friends in private upon contemporary 
 art we find from time to time in his letters. 
 
 With evident gusto he quotes, on one occasion, 
 some verses which appeared in 1854 in one of the 
 numerous penny " Comics " started — unsuccessfully, 
 as we all know — with the main object of pulverizing 
 " Punch." I can only give two verses, as there are 
 references in the others to persons now living which 
 would hardly be acceptable. 
 
 " The indignant and contemptuous Ballad of the Royal Academy, 
 as appointed to be sung in the presence of R.A.'s, A.R.A.'s, 
 and eminent painters generally, with a view to their extreme 
 annoyance. 
 
 " Tune, 'How happy could I be? 
 
 " I've been to the Royal Academy, 
 Paid 'em a bob at the door, 
 
Ballad 
 
 41 
 
 But never a shilling was had o' me 
 
 Half so regretted before. 
 Of all the collections atrocious ! — 
 
 Of all the absurdities vile ! — 
 Enough to make angels ferocious, 
 
 Or lay up a saint with the bile. 
 Sing Pickersgill, Landseer, and Cooper, 
 
 Tol de rol tol de rol lay, 
 I've scarcely recovered the stupor 
 
 I brought from their pictures away. 
 
 " By Hunt is the sole gem pictorial 
 
 (Who gave us those wonderful sheep) ; 
 But here I the style editorial 
 
 Must drop, as I'm going to sleep, 
 A want of politeness too bad o' me, 
 
 Still you can well understand why 
 If you've been to the Royal Academy, 
 
 If not, I advise you to try. 
 Sing Morphia, Mandragora, Poppies, 
 
 Tol de rol tol de rol lay, 
 The Square of Trafalgar 1 the shop is 
 
 For opiates to last you the day." 
 
 In speaking of his unobtrusive and diffident 
 nature, it is curious to note how not only was he 
 " backward in coming forward," but he even went 
 out of his way actually to conceal himself where he 
 might unchallenged have claimed a foremost place. 
 Look at page 5 of " Punch's " Jubilee number, pub- 
 lished just six months after his death. There we 
 have a republished picture bearing the signature 
 C. K., representing " Mr. Punch " seated on the drum- 
 head of a capstan fiddling away all he knows, whilst 
 his contributors work away manfully at the "bars" 
 
 1 The Royal Academy held its exhibition then at the National 
 Gallery. 
 
42 
 
 CljacUjS I&eene 
 
 to keep him going. Every one of the faces is a 
 likeness that can be recognized, but in vain do we 
 look for the familiar features of " our Carlo." At 
 last we discover, from the subscribed names, that he, 
 the greatest of them all, has assumed the privilege 
 of hiding himself behind the burly form of Mark 
 Lemon, and has only favoured us with the back part 
 of his head. 
 
 Bumptiousness he had none of himself, and he 
 abhorred it in others. Just see with what a relish 
 he goes about to pillory the gallant nation, the 
 remembrance of whose fatuity, one would have 
 thought, seventeen years was enough to dim. But 
 Keene had a terribly long and sure memory for 
 things that he despised, and in 1889 we find him 
 writing to Mr. Crawhall : " I know that book you 
 speak of in the postcard, but it will keep. The 
 photos {carte de visile size) I have, are those of the 
 old King of Prussia, afterwards made Emperor, 
 Von Moltke, Von Roon, Von Horn, Von Stulpnagel, 
 and Von Loewenfeld. I want a few more of these 
 generals to frame, with a legend on the frame, 'A 
 Berlin] the bumptious war cry of the French when 
 they declared war. How well I remember the in- 
 terest I took . in that romantic campaign ! I can see 
 the startling headings in the daily papers of the 
 time, ' Capture of Sedan ! ' etc. — my sympathies were 
 entirely with the Germans." 
 
 But this is again anticipating. 
 
 In 1848 there was, we may be sure, no one who 
 saw in the struggling artist's opinion a good adver- 
 
f caitco#t;u£stian Mav 
 
 43 
 
 tisement for a book ; no one who wanted to " inter- 
 view" and exploit him at so much per line of 
 "copy"; but it is characteristic of the man's simple 
 nature that this bashful modesty became, if anything, 
 intensified rather than modified as he srew older 
 and more successful. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 1851 — 1859. 
 
 "Punch "Staff, 185 1. — Louis Napoleon.— Coup d'etat. — "Patent 
 Street-Sweeping Machine." — Keene's first appearance in " Punch." 
 — Further Notes by Mr. Silver. — First signed Drawing. — Work for 
 the Whympers. — "Book of German Songs."- — German influence. — 
 Dr. Dulcken. — Menzel. — Only an outside contributor to " Punch." 
 —Tour in Brittany. — Leaves Strand Studio. — Clipstone Street 
 Studio.— "Once a Week."— "A Good Fight."— " Evan Harring- 
 ton."— Music— " Jermyn Band."— " Leslie's Choir." — Mr. J. 
 Heming. — Original suggestion to Mr. Birket Foster. — An 
 Enthusiast. — The Volunteer Movement. — " Drowning the Maga- 
 zine." 
 
 E now come to the great turning-point 
 in Keene's career. 
 
 In July, 185 1, "Punch" was ten 
 years old, and had just secured the 
 services of John Tenniel, 11 the cartoonist" par ex- 
 cellence, in the place of Richard Doyle, who had 
 voluntarily withdrawn from the Table, owing to 
 certain religious scruples not wholly unconnected 
 with the subject of his successor's first " Big Cut." 1 
 Besides the proprietors and the editor, Mark 
 
 1 Vide "Punch's" Jubilee number, p. 4, July 18, 1891. 
 
ifirgt "$tmcfj" picture 
 
 45 
 
 Lemon, the men who sat round the " Mahogany 
 Tree" at this time were Thackeray, John Leech, 
 Percival Leigh, Gilbert a. Beckett, Douglas Jerrold, 
 Tom Taylor, Shirley Brooks, and Horace Mayhew. 
 
 These were stirring times for Europe, and Louis 
 Napoleon was little less than a godsend to the 
 journalistic enterprise of those days. 
 
 In 1848 he had been elected to the French pre- 
 sidency by an overwhelming majority of his country- 
 men's votes; 1849 witnessed the commencement of 
 those violent political struggles which were the 
 forerunners of internal conspiracies; and 1851 
 saw this practical anarchy summarily put a stop 
 to by the famous, or infamous, coup d'etat of 
 December 2nd. 
 
 Towards the end of that month a very modest 
 woodcut, bearing the legend, " Sketch of the Patent 
 Street - sweeping Machines lately introduced at 
 Paris," appeared on p. 264 of "Mr. Punch's "journal. 
 It represented a couple of cannon, drawn with the 
 waviest of outlines, and the letter "A" marked 
 upon the ground directly in their line of fire. A 
 further legend explained that their portraits had 
 been "taken on the spot (A, the spot) by one of 
 our own Special Artists (who, being naturally rather 
 a nervous man, confesses that the peculiarity of his 
 position certainly did make him feel a little shakey ; 
 and, looking at his sketch, we think our readers will 
 not be disinclined to believe him)." 
 
 This was the first appearance of Keene's pencil in 
 the pages which he was "destined to adorn with in- 
 
46 
 
 Cfjarlcss I&cenc 
 
 only at the urgent request of his friend Mr. Silver, 
 in whose brain the notion had originated, that the 
 drawing was made, the artist bluntly expressing his 
 
SDratomg; mcoijtuto 
 
 47 
 
 opinion that the joke was a mighty poor one. The 
 following further notes from Mr. Silver's pen will 
 here be read with interest. 
 
 "It may seem a little strange that Keene at first 
 showed some reluctance to let his name be known, 
 where it was finally so famous. Still, it is the fact 
 that, while his earliest ' Punch ' drawings were of 
 my devising, he steadily declined to own himself the 
 doer of them. I was writing then for ' Punch ' as an 
 outsider, 1 but my ambition was to draw, and for this 
 I had no talent. As for working on the wood, I 
 soon ' cut ' it in despair, and, like a baffled tyrant, I 
 knew not how to bring my subjects to the block. 
 Keene very kindly undertook the labour for me, 
 and the first design he executed was 'A Sketch 
 of the New Paris Street-sweeping Machines ' — a 
 couple of cannon, namely — which was published in 
 December, 1851, immediately after the bloody coup 
 cTStat. His next two drawings illustrate an article 
 of mine, and appear upon the second page of the 
 next volume. His fourth, a far more finished draw- 
 ing, like these, saw the light in 1852, and may be 
 found in vol. xxiii., p. 257. It shows a gentleman 
 engaged in fishing in his kitchen, and is entitled 
 ' The Advantage of an Inundation,' the autumn of 
 that year being very wet. Mark Lemon wrote to 
 me commending it, and asking me to try and draw 
 a little more for him. I showed Charles the letter, 
 and said that now, of course, his name must be 
 
 1 I joined the staff soon after the death of Douglas Jerrold, 
 and Keene a little later. 
 
4 8 
 
 Cljarlctf Heene 
 
 divulged, for I clearly was obtaining kudos under 
 false pretences. However, he deferred the dis- 
 closure for a while, and it was not until the spring 
 of 1854 that his 'C. K.' first appeared {vide Initial 
 ' G,' vol. xxvi. p. T28) — a modest little monogram, 
 quite unlike his later and so well-known signature. 
 In the interim he marked his drawings with a mask, 
 which was a device of mine for hiding his identity. 1 
 After the 'C. K.' appeared the mask was used but 
 twice (see vol. xxvi., pp. 256 and 266). But, although 
 he dropped the mask, his initials were not always 
 visible in place of it. The index of that volume is 
 undoubtedly his work ; indeed, the rough sketch 
 which he made for it is hanging in my billiard-room. 
 It is, however, left unsigned, as is his first attempt 
 at a cartoon — ' Austria defies Russia ' (vol. xxvii., 
 p. 153), which, for cleverness of attitude, was clearly 
 well worth owning. 
 
 " Keene had a great faculty for catching a good 
 likeness, and the faces of his friends appear in many 
 a ' Punch ' drawing. The earliest, I think, is the 
 enthusiastic artist (vol. xxvi., p. 104), who is de- 
 claiming to a more prosaic friend the stirring lines 
 from ' I vry ' — 
 
 ' Charge by the golden lilies ! upon them with the lance ! 
 
 A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, 
 
 A thousand knights are pressing close behind ' — - 
 
 and who is cut short by the criticism, ' Why, hang 
 it, that is only one spur a-piece ! ' 
 
 1 e.g. "Not a bad customer," vol. xxiv., p. 107 (1852). 
 
Portraits of Ijtmgelf 
 
 49 
 
 " Another early instance, with a sketch of the 
 Strand studio, may be found (vol. xxxi., p. 48) in 
 the artist who rejoices that his ' Cavalier in a Coal- 
 hole,' being sold by auction, went for ' nearly a 
 pound ! ' I myself appear a little later (vol. xxxvi., 
 p. 188), giving my cousin's lapdog a little gentle 
 exercise by tossing him in a blanket ; while at p. 2 1 
 of the same volume there is a better instance still, 
 in the man who coolly asks the waiter, ' Now, what's 
 the smallest sum I can give you without being con- 
 sidered mean ? ' 
 
 " Though merely done from memory, these were all 
 drawn to the life, as, indeed, was many a later por- 
 trait which appeared among the rank and file of his 
 delightful Volunteers. A likeness of himself may 
 also frequently be recognized, one of the best being 
 in the ' Highland friend McClanky,' who wants to 
 give his host ' a chune ' upon the bagpipes. Of this 
 drawing the original was shown in the 'Charles 
 Keene Exhibition,' and, like most of those displayed 
 there, showed how sorely his work suffered in pass- 
 ing through the press. 
 
 "Another picture of himself, or, rather, series of 
 pictures, appeared in ' Englishmen in Brittany ' 
 (vol. xxxi., pp.- 100, no, 120). Here Keene and his 
 two friends may instantly be recognized by anyone 
 who knew them, himself by his long legs and his 
 short coat, his pointed beard and curly head, and his 
 companions by some oddity of figure or of dress. 
 
 "Despite the talent he possessed for humorous 
 design, Keene but rarely tried his hand at a political 
 
 E 
 
5o 
 
 cartoon, wherein his faculty for portraiture might 
 have done good service. Nor was he ever fertile in 
 suggestion of such subjects. During the many years 
 wherein we sat together at ' The Table,' I recollect 
 but few occasions when he had the honour of 
 inventing the ' Big Cut.' 
 
 " Sometimes, at Mark's desire, he did a whole-page 
 drawing, to face Tenniel's cartoon, but this was 
 always under protest; and when, in October, '78, 
 < J, T.' went with me to Venice, and 4 C. K.' took his 
 place as the cartoonist of the month, the work was 
 not at all the labour he delighted in, and a glance at 
 it will show that he was glad to get it done. 
 
 " Keene was always very careful of the 'legend/ 
 as he called it, which accompanied his drawings, 
 especially if the subject chanced to come from the 
 East Coast. He would often take the pains to print 
 the words instead of writing them, and esteemed it a 
 great grievance when a letter was misplaced in type. 
 Being a Suffolk man myself, I could appreciate his 
 fondness for the ' Lingua East-Anglica ' ; but I was 
 sometimes amused at hearing him complain that a 
 drawing he had made would quite fail to be appre- 
 ciated because of a slight error in the letterpress 
 beneath it. I often thought the drawing was so 
 good that no misprint could spoil it ; the ' legend,' 
 by comparison, seeming like the sermon to the deaf 
 Suffolk woman, and in my opinion being ' won'erful 
 poor stuff.' 
 
 " I fear Charles cared but little for ' les convenances' 
 and often ran the risk of offending Mrs. Grundy. 
 
He never wore a ' chimney-pot '—in which respect 
 most men of sense will wish he had more followers ; 
 and, as he seemed hardly conscious if his dress was 
 'out of date, he may at times have flourished some 
 few oddities of costume. If such trifles gave offence, 
 it was not by his 'good will,' as Peter Quince says. 
 One day, when he dined with me, the lady sitting 
 next him seemed a little puzzled by something he 
 was telling her. < I'll draw it, then you'll see,' said 
 Charles, taking the menu-card, and searching for his 
 pencil. In the search, out came his latch-key and a 
 lot of little treasures, which he very gravely laid upon 
 the tablecloth, and left there until the sketch was 
 done, when he replaced them in his pocket. The 
 shade of Mrs. Grundy might have shuddered at the 
 sight of them, but the lady got the drawing, and I 
 hope she has it still, for it was certainly worth the 
 breach of etiquette attending it. 
 
 " Keene immensely relished hearing a good story, 
 and was capital at telling one. He had a quaint 
 habit of winking when he came to the point, which 
 added greatly to its humour. His face was usually 
 quite grave when he began the tale, however 
 humorous the details wherewith he might em- 
 broider it. He would begin to smile a little as 
 he approached the climax ; and, when the point was 
 reached, the wink would give it emphasis. The 
 last time that he dined with me, he told how a young 
 Scotchman, with a healthy Northern appetite, was 
 describing the chief merit of his boarding-house in 
 London. < Ye ken, we're eight at table, an' so we 
 
52 
 
 CljarUg l&eene 
 
 get a pot o' marmalade a day, an' (here came the 
 wink) ah'm the only mon wha cares fort!" 
 
 "Sometimes the wink was introduced in rather 
 a grim way, as when I chanced one day to mention 
 an old friend of ours, whose health I feared was 
 failing. ' Why yes, poor chap,' said Charles, ' he's 
 in a bad way. I called there t'other day, and (wink) 
 found him reading the Bible.' 
 
 "The last wink I remember was when he had 
 himself been ill, and he was telling of a visit which 
 a journalist had paid him ; and how afterwards he 
 had received a cutting from some country newspaper, 
 relating with much verbal flourish how the talented 
 and well-known artist, whose works were weekly the 
 delight, etc., etc., was happily approaching a state 
 of convalescence ; and, being lately interviewed, had 
 been found at work upon a drawing, which was 
 lengthily described, although the writer naively 
 owned that it had since been published. « Best of 
 it is,' said Keene, 'he calls himself a critic, and 
 (here he winked delightedly) the drawing was 
 Du Maurier's ! ' 
 
 "The easy chair of criticism is little to my liking, 
 and on the talent of Charles Keene I have small wish 
 to sit in judgment. That he was a great— perhaps 
 the greatest recent — master of the art of black-and- 
 white seems pretty widely now confessed, although 
 the industry which made him so has scarce received 
 due commendation. There was nothing ever coarse 
 or feeble in his work. However slight the drawing, 
 every touch was made to tell; and there seemed 
 
53 
 
 never a line missing, or a stroke superfluous. Full 
 of humour as he was, his fun was never forced. The 
 people he designed seemed always natural and life- 
 like, and precisely to be suited to the scene wherein 
 he placed them. And what variety of postures he 
 was careful to depict, and what an air of movement 
 he put into his figures ! His 'bus-drivers and cabbies, 
 his street-scamps and policemen, his waiters and old 
 women, his 'Arriets and 'Arries, his jovial diners-out 
 and latch-key-losing revellers, and best of all, per- 
 haps, his ' bang-went-saxpence ' Scotchmen and self- 
 esteemed kirk elders : these all seem really figures 
 taken from the life, and to be true types of the time 
 when they were living. How precious would such 
 pictures be to the historian if they dated from the 
 reigns of the Georges and the Stuarts, the Tudors 
 and Plantagenets, or, to go still further back, the 
 Normans and the Romans ! And then what wealth 
 of skilful labour he lavished on his backgrounds I 
 His country lanes and cottages, his city streets and 
 shop-fronts, his second floors and studios, his breezy 
 moors and billowy seas, his Irish bogs and Suffolk 
 turnip-fields — all these are drawn so cleverly that 
 one scarce knows which to admire most, the actors 
 or the scene. 
 
 " Charles Keene was a fine artist, as everybody 
 knows ; but they who knew him well can say that 
 he was something more. They knew he was a 
 most agreeable companion, a true and steadfast 
 friend, and a man of sterling worth. Kind of heart 
 and gentle in his disposition, modest in his manner, 
 
54 
 
 Cljatleg l&eene 
 
 and simple in his life, he ever had a good word, and 
 rarely a severe one, for those he held deserving it. 
 There was nothing false or fickle in his character ; 
 and one may fairly feel some pride in the memory 
 of his friendship. 
 
 " Henry Silver. 
 
 " 6, The Terrace, Kensington. 
 "August, 1 89 1." 
 
 Thus it will be seen that, although Keene's first 
 appearance in "Punch" was at the end of 185 1, it 
 was not until nearly three years later that his first 
 wholly original work appeared in the shape of an 
 initial letter " G," in vol. xxvi., p. 128. Nor was it 
 until at least ten years later that he assumed the 
 place of one of " Punch's " principal contributors. 
 This was only after the death, in 1864, of John 
 Leech, " the great, the genial, the lamented." 
 
 In the meantime Keene was working away for 
 the "Illustrated London News" and the Whym- 
 pers. Of the work he did for the latter there seems 
 to be no record, but in 1853 we find him working on 
 his own account upon a series of illustrations for 
 " The Book of German Songs," translated by Dr. 
 H. W. Dulcken. These Messrs. Ingram and 
 Cooke intended to publish in their National Illus- 
 trated Library. " The Book of English Songs " and 
 "The Book of Scottish Songs," edited by Dr. 
 Mackay, had already appeared, and it was proposed 
 to follow these up with " The Book of French 
 Songs," by John Oxenford ; "The Book of Irish 
 Songs," by Samuel Lever ; and the aforesaid " Book 
 
Book 3Uu0tration$f 55 
 
 of German Songs." Before, however, this scheme 
 could be carried out, Messrs. Ingram and Cooke 
 gave up book-publishing, and their manager, Mr. E. 
 Ward, set up for himself, in partnership with the late 
 Mr. G. Lock, as "Ward and Lock," at 158, Fleet 
 Street. In consequence of these changes there was 
 some delay in the publication of the songs, and it 
 was not until 1856 that the first book illustrated 
 altogether independently by Charles Keene saw the 
 light. 
 
 These illustrations are in no way remarkable, save 
 and except as evidencing the extraordinary facility 
 with which he has caught the spirit, or rather, one is 
 inclined to say, the spiritlessness, of contemporary 
 German illustration. 
 
 Two or three there are certainly which give an 
 earnest of better things, such, for example, as that 
 on p. 58 to " Vater, ich rufe dich!" and that on 
 p. 296 to "Die Hussiten vor Naumburg" \ but, were 
 I not assured that all are from C. K.'s pencil, I 
 should imagine by far the larger number to be copied 
 straight from the German woodcuts. 
 
 The large majority are poor in the extreme, and, 
 notwithstanding Dr. Dulcken's reference to the 
 "sapient 'Saturday Reviewer,'" quoted in Chapter I., 
 it is right to confess that, as regards the greatly 
 larger proportion, I, for one, should, except for the 
 adventitious interest that attaches to them as the 
 early work of C. K., far prefer the translations 
 without the illustrations. Those on pp. 58, 118, 
 167, and 191 have a peculiar interest, as being the 
 
56 
 
 Cfjarletf Iveene 
 
 first of Keene's work bearing the well-known signa- 
 ture C. K. 1 
 
 As Dr. Dulcken points out, Keene took a great 
 fancy at this time to some woodcuts of Menzel, 
 which had appeared in Kugler's " History of 
 Frederick the Great." This admiration for his 
 great German contemporary increased as time went 
 on ; and when, in later years, the latter saw some 
 original drawings of Keene's in Berlin, he, in turn, 
 was equally attracted, and sent him his photograph 
 signed with his autograph. Anent this, Keene, with 
 characteristic modesty, writes to Mr. Stewart: "I'm 
 thinking of sending him a few scraps of studies, if I 
 can screw up my confidence, but I shall be in a funk 
 when they are gone, I know." Menzel, however, 
 was charmed, and wrote proposing an exchange of 
 drawings. This proposal was gladly acceded to ; and 
 Mr. J. P. Heseltine tells me, that so delighted was 
 Menzel with them, that he became thenceforth a 
 regular subscriber to ''Punch" for the sake of 
 Keene's admirable work. 
 
 As has been pointed out above, it was some time 
 
 1 Since writing the above, Dr. Dulcken, in answer to further 
 inquiries, has informed me that some of these illustrations were 
 not C. K.'s, but were originally drawn by Ludwig Richter for a 
 book of German poems, amongst which Uhland's "Eemkehr" 
 was included, and that "electros" of these were bought by 
 Messrs. Ward and Lock. This satisfactorily clears up the matter, 
 and no doubt the " Saturday Reviewer " referred mainly to the 
 German reprints. Not but that we could equally well dispense 
 with the undoubted C. K. on p. 167 to " Der Wirthinn 
 Tochterlein " ; it is as bad as anything in the book. 
 
58 
 
 before Keene became a constant contributor to the 
 pages of " Punch." Indeed, it is curious to note 
 how the numbers of his drawings fluctuated in the 
 first fifteen volumes. 1 After the first drawing, which 
 appeared in the last half-yearly volume of 1851, two 
 appeared in the first half of 1852, and one in the 
 last half. One appeared in the first volume of 1853, 
 and four in the second. Then came the first volume 
 of 1854, with his first signed production on p. 128, 
 when his existence became known to the editor 
 (before that, it will be remembered, his work had 
 gone in in the name of Mr. Silver), and at once we 
 find him the author of twenty-five drawings. 2 The 
 last volume of that year shows fourteen, as does the 
 first volume for 1855. Then, for some reason or 
 other, the number dropped to six in the next volume, 
 and to three in the next, whilst in the last volume 
 for 1856 we find it suddenly rising to thirty-seven. 
 The next four volumes, for 1857 and 1858, have 
 respectively ten, twenty-three, eighteen, and twenty. 
 For these particulars I am indebted to Mr. Henry 
 Silver. 
 
 Many of these early woodcuts are unsigned, and it 
 would be impossible for anyone who had no special 
 knowledge of them at the time of their production 
 to identify them as the work of C. K. This is more 
 
 1 It should be remembered that the volumes are half-yearly. 
 
 2 The first four signed C. K. are : — 
 
 The initial letter " G," vol. xxvi., p. 128. 
 The initial letter " U," vol. xxvi., p. 224. 
 "Fresh negotiations," vol. xxvi., p. 253. 
 " What our artist has to put up with," vol. xxvi., p. 254. 
 
dje faEIjfte Cottage 
 
 59 
 
 especially the case as a large number of them bear a 
 striking resemblance to the work of his great con- 
 temporary, John Tenniel. 
 
 All this time, and for two years more, Keene was 
 only an outside contributor, it not being until Feb- 
 ruary 6, i860, that he received his first invitation 
 to the hebdomadal "Punch" dinner. 
 
 In 1855, towards the close of the Russian War, 
 Keene was employed by the Messrs. Dickinson, of 
 Bond Street, to execute for one of their customers a 
 series of large drawings of the Siege of Sebastopol, 
 from sketches which had been made in the trenches. 
 What has become of these I do not know. 
 
 This year Keene gave up his bachelor quarters in 
 Bloomsbury, and went to live with his mother and 
 sisters at Hammersmith. Mrs. Keene had, a year 
 or two before this, returned from Lewisham, and 
 taken an old-fashioned two-storied house, known as 
 the White Cottage, then in the country, but pulled 
 down in 1869, and its site now occupied by the 
 u Kensington Stores." 
 
 In 1856 Keene, with two of his friends, the late 
 Mr. J. M. Stewart, then a clerk in the London and 
 Westminster Bank, and Mr. Sleigh, an artist, under- 
 took a tour in Brittany, a humorous account of 
 which we have, preserved in twenty-four drawings 
 for " Punch," published on September 6, 13, and 20 
 of that year. 
 
 The pictures are charming, and the portraits of the 
 three friends, sustained throughout, are admirable. 
 Added to which there is, in the centre of page 120, 
 
6o 
 
 Cljarletf Heene 
 
 the presentment of a peasant girl, which is enough 
 in itself to refute the foolish fallacy that Keene was 
 unable to draw a beautiful woman. His own thumb- 
 biting bashfulness in the background is delightful as 
 he enviously regards his friend in close converse 
 with the pretty damsel, and regretfully remarks to 
 his other companion, who is handicapped by an 
 ignorance similar to his own, " Oh dear ! What 
 advantages some fellows have who can speak the 
 language." 
 
 It was, with the exception of a visit with Mr. 
 Stewart to Biarritz, I believe, twenty years before he 
 again crossed the channel. 
 
 Soon after this trip abroad Keene left the Strand 
 studio. " The Artists' Society," having outgrown 
 its original quarters, had removed to Langham 
 Chambers, and the old room in Clipstone Street 
 was divided into two studios. In one of these he 
 took up his quarters, the other being occupied by 
 his old friend and co-member of the " Society," J. D. 
 Wingfield. 1 The entrance to these premises was, as 
 has been said, through a stonemason's yard. Keene 
 considered it a great privilege here to have the 
 opportunity, of which he largely availed himself, of 
 making studies in the open air. 
 
 Working in this studio late at night, a habit which 
 became more and more confirmed as he grew older, 
 he was much disturbed by cats, which prowled and 
 
 1 From the books of the Society, kindly put at my disposal by 
 Mr. Cattermole, I find that the rent of the Langham premises was 
 first paid for Jan., 1855. 
 
£t (LtEac tottlj Cat0 
 
 61 
 
 squalled about his window. Setting his wits to 
 work, he contrived a toy weapon of offence, over 
 which the big man showed the boyish enthusiasm 
 which was a characteristic through life. Mr. John 
 Clayton remembers well paying him a visit soon 
 after he had perfected this instrument, and finding 
 him energetically practising, so as to arrive at an 
 accuracy of aim. He dilated with much pride upon 
 his ingenious invention. Breaking off the side 
 pieces of a steel pen, he fastened the centre harpoon- 
 shaped piece on to a small shaft. This he wrapped 
 round with tow, and propelled by blowing from a 
 tube into which it fitted. The electrifying effect 
 produced by these missiles upon his victims, without 
 permanently injuring them, delighted him vastly, 
 and he described graphically how they would come 
 along the leads outside his window outlined en 
 silhouette, and how the first moment they were struck 
 by the little arrows they would stand for an instant 
 stock still, whilst every hair on their bodies would 
 stand out sharp and separate against the sky, like 
 quills upon the fretful porcupine, and then how, with 
 a yell, they would leap headlong out of sight into the 
 darkness. 
 
 That this removal from his first studio could not 
 have been coincident with the departure of the Life 
 School to Langham Chambers, is evident from the 
 following letter, which is endorsed "received 1857." 
 Apart from this evidence, I should have been in- 
 clined to put the change at least a year earlier. 
 
62 
 
 Cfjacleg J&mu 
 
 To Joseph ffemingy Esq. 
 
 " 291, Strand. 
 
 " Dear Heming, 
 
 " I am very sorry I shall not be able to come 
 on Monday, 'which' it being my turn to set the 
 Figure at the school, I shall not be able to get away 
 till nine, so could not be in decent time. Do you 
 keep up your Monday meetings ? I am looking out 
 for a studio, and saw one the other day which would 
 have suited you to a T, only don't you wish you 
 might get it ? Have you ' broke prison ' yet ? I 
 had a brief flutter down to the coast of Devon. My 
 friend, who is a mighty angler, fished, and I loafed 
 about sketching, and all that sort of thing, and 
 enjoyed it hugely — but, alas ! only for ten days. I 
 hear you are going to the Highlands. You may see 
 N., and sign a peace. Can't you look in at the 
 Cafe LatLrence some night ? I shall be there after 
 nine every night next week. I hear S. has taken a 
 house at Tottenham, and recedes from the choir. 
 
 "In haste, yours very truly, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 The year 1859 saw the initiation of a venture 
 which was destined to provide Keene for some time 
 with regular work. Up till that date, it will be re- 
 membered, Charles Dickens's " Household Words " 
 had been published by Messrs. Bradbury and Evans, 
 but, difficulties having arisen, that magazine was 
 discontinued, or, rather, continued elsewhere, under 
 the title of "All the Year Round." Thereupon 
 
"Once a flfljeefe" 
 
 63 
 
 Messrs. Bradbury and 
 Evans started a maga- 
 zine in July called 
 "Once a Week," under 
 the editorship of Samuel 
 Lucas, and illustrated 
 mainly by the " Punch " 
 artists. 
 
 Keene was from the 
 very commencement em- 
 ployed, and in the course 
 of the first nine volumes 
 we find between 140 
 and 150 drawings from 
 his pencil. At first he 
 provided one every 
 week, but as time went 
 on, and the calls upon 
 him for the pages of 
 "Punch" became greater, 
 they grew less frequent, 
 until, in the ninth half- 
 yearly volume, we find 
 only three, and in the 
 following they cease al- 
 together. In 1866 a new* 
 series was started, and 
 in Volume IV. we find 
 him reappearing with 
 one beautiful illustration to a small poem by F. C. 
 Burnand. In these pages he was called upon to 
 
 STUDY FOR A "ONCE A WEEK' 
 ILLUSTRATION. 
 
6 4 
 
 Cljacle0 Incite 
 
 illustrate such important serials as Charles Reade's 
 " A Good Fight," afterwards republished in book 
 form, without the illustrations, as " The Cloister 
 and the Hearth," and George Meredith's " Evan 
 Harrington." 
 
 For this last, Mr. Meredith tells me, there was no 
 consultation as to the illustrations between artist and 
 author. Keene selected his own incidents, and the 
 pictures gave the novelist entire satisfaction. 
 
 In Appendix A I have attempted to give a com- 
 plete list of the stories and poems illustrated by 
 Keene in " Once a Week." 
 
 It may be here remarked that in the Index 
 to the ninth volume the drawing on page 169 is 
 attributed to Keene, whereas it is clearly, I think, 
 from the hand of Charles Green, a mistake doubt- 
 less arising through the phonetic similarity of the 
 names. 
 
 One of the writers in " Once a Week " tells me 
 that very often the stories were written up to the 
 pictures, not, as is usually the case, the illustrations 
 prompted by the letterpress. 
 
 The year before, 1858, Keene, always a lover 
 of music (he calls himself a musical maniac in a 
 letter to Mr. Crawhall), and able from early times 
 to read at sight with great facility, 1 had become 
 a member of Mr. Arthur Lewis's famous choral 
 society. 
 
 Mr. Lewis writes : " He joined my choir when 
 
 1 He had joined one of the classes of the late John Hullah 
 about the year 1850. 
 
"%l)e lecmpn Band" 
 
 65 
 
 my meetings were held at Jermyn Street, where we 
 called ourselves the 'Jermyn Band,' 1858- 1862, 
 and continued to be a member of it when it became 
 better known as the ' Moray Minstrels,' at Moray 
 Lodge, from 1862- 1867. He was a most regular 
 attendant at these meetings, and his correct ear and 
 fine voice rendered him a most valuable member. 
 He was a great favourite with all of us." 
 
 After 1867 the "Society" was carried on elsewhere, 
 and Keene continued a member until 1879. 
 
 It may be pointed out that, apart from the high 
 pitch of excellence attained by its members under 
 the conductorship, from its very commencement 
 until the present time, of Mr. John Foster, the 
 "Jermyn Band" stands out as the pioneer of the 
 "smoking concerts" which are now such a feature 
 of our civilization. 
 
 Three years previously, in 1855, Keene had 
 joined "Leslie's Choir," and had taken part in the 
 first public concert given by that Society on May 
 26th, 1856. He withdrew in 1866 or 1867, because 
 they took to the performance of larger works, which 
 he chose to consider new-fangled "chorus singing," 
 in place of the old madrigals and motets of which 
 he was an enthusiastic admirer. It was part of his 
 nature to love everything that smacked of antiquity, 
 and this unvarying particularity in his tastes will 
 appear more and more as we proceed with the 
 consideration of his original and in many respects 
 fantastic character. 
 
 With Mr. Hardcastle he would have said, " I love 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 Cljacles l&eene 
 
 everything that's old— old friends, old times, old 
 manners, old books, old wine." 1 
 
 1 The following interesting note as to the inception of "Leslie's 
 Choir" has been supplied to me by Mr. J. Heming. "I first 
 thought of establishing a picked Choir about the year 1852, at 
 which period I was a superintendent in the Harmonic Union, 
 conducted by the late Sir Julius Benedict. I observed that in a 
 chorus of, say, 300, all the best work was done by about 50 voices, 
 and that without these leaders the chorus fell to pieces. These 
 results were not to be wondered at, considering there was (at that 
 time) no trial made of a singer's voice or ability. I saw plainly 
 that it was hopeless to expect excellence under such a system, and 
 I determined, if possible, to establish a select choir on a sounder 
 basis, for the performance of unaccompanied music only. 
 
 "The difficulties at first were great, as good vocalists objected 
 to sing in what they considered a chorus, and none other were of 
 any service. I, however, kept my purpose steadily in view, adding 
 a name from time to time to a list which I carried about with me 
 for fully two years, but it was not until the winter of 1853-4 that 
 I had a sufficient number to begin with. In the first instance we 
 met under the baton of the late Mr. Frank Mori, but, subsequently 
 meeting with Mr. Henry Leslie, I thought he would make a more 
 suitable conductor, and towards the end of 1855 I transferred the 
 leadership to him. Events proved that I was right ; he was a 
 clever, ambitious amateur, and altho' not accustomed to conduct 
 voices, he saw his opportunity, and threw himself heartily into 
 the work. As soon as it was known that a really select choir was 
 formed, we had numberless offers of assistance, most of which 
 were worthless, and had to be declined after trial, great offence 
 being frequently given to personal friends, both Henry Leslie's and 
 my own. I tested every one carefully in sight reading, solo sing- 
 ing, and ascertained the compass of each voice. After a few 
 rehearsals, we sang two or three times at concerts of the Amateur 
 Society, and then settled down to hard practice. The first concert 
 was given in May 1856, for the purpose of raising a fund to pay 
 current expenses, our number then being about sixty. The pro- 
 gramme consisted of sixteenth and seventeenth century madrigals, 
 with a few part-songs and full anthems, and was such a success, 
 
"%\)Z %z$Uz Cljoir" 
 
 67 
 
 In addition to the above associations, he was a 
 member of a choral class established by the late 
 Charles Horsley (a brother of the Royal Academi- 
 cian), the meetings of which were held in Hanover 
 Square on Tuesday evenings, over Wenzel's music - 
 
 both financially and otherwise, that the choir at once took the high 
 position it afterwards held for so many years. It was admitted 
 by every competent judge that such a quality of tone had never 
 bef ore been heard in England. The equal balance of the several 
 parts, precision in attack, starting perfectly in tune, and without 
 a preliminary chord (or even sound that the public could detect), 
 simply from the key-note which I sounded very softly in my 
 falsetto, was a novelty and a surprise to the musical public ; and, 
 as we worked upon our first programme for nearly six months, 
 everyone knew the music by heart, and could watch the con- 
 ductor's beat from beginning to end. The fame of the Choir 
 spread, and the following year we were ' commanded ' to sing before 
 Her Majesty and the Court at Buckingham Palace. During the 
 seven years that I acted as choir master we never exceeded 
 eighty-eight in the orchestra, in the proportion of about thirty-six 
 trebles, fifteen altos, eighteen tenors, and twenty basses, for the 
 reason that I could never obtain more than eighteen tenors of the 
 right quality • the other parts therefore had to be in proportion. 
 I retired from the Choir in 1863, when the members presented me 
 with a testimonial in silver, together with an address on vellum 
 signed by the subscribers. After I left, the Choir underwent 
 several changes, and the numbers increased to about 240. Mr. 
 Leslie was enabled to perform larger works, but I think the 
 Madrigals suffered, and the quality of tone was altered. The 
 Choir was disbanded in 1880, when Mr. Leslie was presented 
 with a valuable testimonial. There was an attempt to revive it 
 under Mr. Randegger, and later on Mr. Leslie took it in hand 
 again, but neither of these revivals achieved the brilliant success 
 of the old days. 
 
 " I am, dear Sir, 
 
 " Faithfully yours, 
 
 '•Joseph Heming." 
 
68 
 
 Cljarleg Heene 
 
 shop. He was also a member of " The Sacred 
 Harmonic Society," "The Catch Glee and Canon 
 Club," and "The 'Bach' Society." During the 
 latter years of his life, however, he dropped his 
 memberships, and the only society to which he 
 belonged at the time of his death was the " Western 
 Madrigal Society," the practice meetings of which 
 are held at the house of the Royal Society of 
 Musicians, Lisle Street, Leicester Square. Writing 
 of these Societies, Mr. Joseph Heming says : "He 
 was very fond of singing catches, and would at any 
 time give up an evening to his intimates for the 
 pleasure of joining in them, at which he was very 
 expert. I have often remarked that he was the most 
 reliable and sincere man I ever met with in music. 
 In small gatherings the host, or whoever is respon- 
 sible for the success of a musical evening, is always 
 anxious lest one of the party fails to attend, and so 
 spoil the quartette ; but Charles Keene might always- 
 be depended upon, let the weather be ever so bad— 
 the first to arrive, and the last to wish to retire." 
 
 The enthusiasm with which Keene took up every- 
 thing which interested him we find exemplified at 
 every turn, and it is not surprising to discover that 
 in his zeal he developed original ideas upon the 
 subject of singing, as indeed he did upon all subjects 
 with which he occupied himself. 
 
 One of his delightful suggestions was that his 
 friend Mr. Birket Foster should have the full scores 
 of catches, madrigals, etc., painted large on boards to 
 hang about in the rooms of his house, so that at any 
 
70 
 
 Cljauletf l&eene 
 
 moment the occupants, feeling inclined, could, with- 
 out the trouble of hunting up the books, break out 
 into part-singing. Mr. Foster followed the advice, 
 although in a rather more elaborate manner than that 
 proposed, employing Messrs. Clayton and Bell to 
 paint the music on glass, and having it inserted into 
 the upper lights of the drawing-room windows, with 
 very telling effect. This, as may be imagined, gave 
 Keene huge delight. Of other phases of his passion 
 for music and his love for all quaint instruments, 
 from the bagpipes to the penny whistle, and the 
 eagerness with which he took them up one by one, 
 as well as of his profound knowledge of archaic and 
 curious varieties, there will be much to say later on. 
 
 Keene was half-hearted over nothing. He was 
 vehemently hot or most positively cold. 
 
 The year 1859 saw the formation of volunteer 
 corps of riflemen, in consequence of the prevalent 
 fear of a French invasion, and by the end of the 
 year many thousands were enrolled throughout 
 England. Keene entered the ranks at the very 
 commencement of the movement, becoming a 
 member of the South Middlesex Corps under 
 the command of the late Lord Ranelagh. Amongst 
 his friends and associates, when he wore the Queen's 
 livery, was Mr. Alfred Cooper, the artist. They 
 were in the same Company (No. 5, Kensington) of 
 the 2nd Middlesex, and shared a tent together 
 in the regimental camp at Wimbledon from 1867- 
 187 1. On these occasions no doubt it was that 
 Keene made studies for those delightful Volunteers 
 
71 
 
 with which his " Punch " work has made us so 
 familiar. 
 
 Apropos to his volunteering-, I may here quote 
 from a letter to Mr. Mills, delightful for the evident 
 enjoyment which he finds in laughing at the nervous- 
 ness of himself— the bold soldier : — 
 
 "We'd a rattling thunderstorm — 'Tempest,' I 
 mean — this morning. I suppose I'm getting old 
 and nervous, but when I saw the lightning streaking 
 straight down I was not comfortable, — about eighty 
 or ninety rounds of ball cartridge in my room, — so 
 I slipped out of bed and drowned the magazine ! " 
 
 AN IRISH JEHU. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 i860— 1864. 
 
 First appearance at " The Table. 5 '— Mr. Spielmann's account of 
 " Punch " Dinner. — Mr. Tenniel's account. — " The Voyage of the 
 Constance."— " Sea Kings and Naval Heroes."— "The Cambridge 
 Grisette."— " Eyebright."— Camping out.— Sailing.— Mr. Stacy 
 Marks, R.A.— Position as artist now assured. — Leaves Clipstone 
 Street Studio. — 55, Baker Street. — Love of exercise. — The Arts 
 Club. — Dinner-party. — Death of Leech. — Keene's unconven- 
 tionalism. — Food peculiarities. — Bouilla-baisse. — " Cornhill 
 Magazine."— " Legends of Number Nip."— Mark Lemon's "Jest 
 Book." — " Tracks for Tourists." — " Tempera " painting. 
 
 HE year i860 opened with an occur- 
 rence of considerable importance in a 
 life so destitute of exciting and epoch- 
 making incidents as that of Charles 
 Keene. 
 
 For the last nine years, as we have seen, he had 
 been but an outside contributor to the pages of 
 " Punch," but now he was to receive that much- 
 coveted honour, an invitation to the celebrated 
 weekly dinner, to which, tradition says, though 
 slightly in error, no stranger is ever admitted on any 
 pretext whatsoever. Henceforth he was entitled — 
 although, by the way, he would never avail himself of 
 
"Punc^" 2D inner 
 
 73 
 
 the privilege — to append to his name the honourable 
 appellation, " of ' Punch.' " It should, however, here 
 be stated that Keene never became a member of the 
 staff. Frequently pressed to do so at a fixed and 
 liberal salary, he preferred not to be tied down to the 
 production of so many drawings every week, and 
 always insisted upon being paid by the piece. If he 
 drew an initial letter he was paid so much, and 
 if a "social" or a cartoon so much, but whether 
 to his own pecuniary advantage or disadvantage 
 I have no means of judging. 
 
 The " Punch " dinner is a function of such par- 
 ticular interest that I cannot refrain from here 
 quoting part of the exceedingly interesting account 
 of it given by Mr. M. H. Spielmann in his article 
 in " Black and White " on the occasion of " Punch's " 
 Jubilee : — 
 
 " On Wednesday evenings the celebrated heb- 
 domadal dinner is held, when the contents of the 
 paper for the following week are discussed and 
 determined. 1 Upstairs the sacred function is held, 
 in a room reached by an ancient and rather crazy 
 staircase. Sir Joseph Paxton and a lady — the wife, I 
 believe, of one of the publishers — are said to be the 
 only strangers who ever were admitted to witness 
 this esoteric celebration. The 'table' — at which 
 only the staff, and not even the regular outside con- 
 tributors, have any right or chance to sit — is then 
 
 1 Mr. Spielmann does not mention that, in addition to these, 
 there was generally an extra " Almanac " dinner about October in 
 each year. 
 
74 
 
 surrounded by the gentlemen of the staff, artists and 
 writers, presided over by the editor, and ' supported ' 
 with more or less regularity by Mr. Bradbury and 
 Mr. William Agnew, the proprietors. As a piece 
 of furniture this hospitable, but rather primitive, 
 board is not of much account, being of plain deal, 
 oblong in shape with rounded ends. But its associa- 
 tions render it a treasure among treasures ; for at 
 this table every man upon the staff from the first 
 has carved his name with a penknife, and here may 
 be seen the handiwork of those so many of whom 
 are on England's roll of fame, as well as that of 
 others who, with less of genius, have still a strong 
 claim on the gratitude and the recollection of the 
 people. The editor, as I have said, presides ; 
 should he be unavoidably absent, another writer— 
 usually, nowadays, Mr. Arthur a Beckett 1 — takes 
 his place, the duty never falling to an artist. Mr. 
 Burnand — who as a president is believed to excel all 
 previous editors, as Sir Frederick Leighton sur- 
 passes all past P. R.A.'s— invites suggestions, listen- 
 ing, weighing, and, with rare tact and art, ' drawing ' 
 his staff as well as any artist upon it could. Dinner 
 is over and the cloth is removed before the business 
 of the evening is touched upon. Jokes, laughter, 
 and discussion are the order of the evening. On 
 the editor's right sit Mr. Tenniel, Mr. du Maurier, 
 Mr. Sambourne, Mr. Furniss, and Mr. Reed; and 
 then there are Mr. a Beckett, Mr. Milliken, — one 
 of the most talented, as he is one of the most 
 1 Since dead. 
 
The Publishers desire to apologize for the 
 erroneous statement conveyed in the foot-note to 
 this page. 
 
 Mr. Layard, by an unfortunate slip of the 
 pen has fallen into error. They are happy to 
 say that Mr. Arthur a Beckett is in excellent 
 health and still continues to delight the readers 
 of " Punch " by his vivacious contributions to that 
 world-renowned journal. 
 
his place, the duty never falling to an artist. Mr. 
 
ur €\)t ^aljoganp ^ree" 75 
 
 modest men upon the paper, — Mr. (Anstey) Guthrie, 
 Mr. Lucy ('Toby'), and Mr. Lehmann. 
 
 ##_### 
 " Some have attended for many years. With the 
 exception only of a half-a-dozen absences through 
 ill-health, Mr. Tenniel has sat at these weekly 
 dinners without a break for forty years — a sufficient 
 guarantee, one would think, that tradition has been 
 respected, and that the spirit of ' Punch,' if one man 
 could secure it, has suffered no deterioration. The 
 tenderness of these men for the honour and glory 
 of ' Punch ' is delightful and touching to see, and 
 cannot be without effect upon the young men who 
 from time to time are called upon to fill sad 
 vacancies." 
 
 Keene first took his seat at what Thackeray 
 euphemistically designated " The Mahogany Tree " 
 on Wednesday, February 6, i860. On that occasion 
 there were also present (besides Messrs. Bradbury 
 and Evans, the then proprietors, and Sir Joseph 
 Paxton,) Mark Lemon, as editor, Shirley Brooks, 
 John Leech, Horace Mayhew, Percival Leigh, 
 Henry Silver, Tom Taylor, and John Tenniel. 
 Thackeray, who, as an old member of the corps, 
 still frequently attended, may have been present, 
 and probably Samuel Lucas, who was admitted as 
 editor of " Once a Week." 
 
 Of Keene on these occasions Mr. Tenniel writes 
 to me: " His presence at the 'Punch' dinner was 
 always delightful, and no one could have been more 
 sadly missed than he when failing health at last 
 
7 6 
 
 compelled him to absent himself from the 'table' 
 altogether." For the first year or two he was a 
 regular attendant, but afterwards came increasingly 
 to look on what most consider an inestimable privi- 
 leee as somewhat tiresome. As a matter of fact 
 he was not of very much use with suggestions for 
 political cartoons and the general conduct of the 
 paper, and the dinner was not of much use to him in 
 providing his pencil with subjects. He spoke very 
 little, and was apt to throw cold water on projects 
 under discussion. If specially appealed to for his 
 opinion, he would, as likely as not, pass upon 
 them a short and comprehensive criticism, such as 
 
 "D d bad," and relapse, with a twinkle in his 
 
 eye, into smoke and silence. 
 
 It was characteristic of the man not to care for 
 these gatherings, just because it was considered a 
 great privilege to be invited. He found them irk- 
 some, and of little use to him in his work, and that 
 was quite reason enough for discontinuing a regular 
 attendance. In August, 1887, he writes to Mrs. 
 Edwin Edwards: "I'm very much obliged for the 
 books, a godsend to a derelict stranded in London ; 
 everybody away and the club shut up ! — obliged to 
 go to the ' Punch ' dinner for company /" 
 
 This was certainly not complimentary, but then 
 we must remember that Keene rarely minced his 
 words. A spade to him was never "an instrument 
 of agriculture." 
 
 The same year as witnessed his first appearance 
 at the " Punch" dinner found him illustrating "The 
 
77 
 
 Voyage of the Constance," by M. Gillies ; the fol- 
 lowing year, " Sea Kings and Naval Heroes," by 
 J. G. Edgar, 1 for Messrs. Bell and Daldy, and 
 " The Cambridge Grisette," by Herbert Vaughan, 
 for Tinsley Brothers, eighteen full page, a vignette, 
 and eight initial letters; and 1863, " Eyebright," by 
 " Augusta," for Mr. C. K. Jacob. 
 
 It must not be supposed that all these years in 
 London Keene had done nothing but work. As a 
 matter of fact he had given all his best energies to the 
 prosecution and study of his art, but, like all of us, he 
 required a certain amount of relaxation and holiday. 
 Always a Bohemian at heart, although made out to 
 be much more of one by the notices which appeared 
 at the time of his death than he really was, for, 
 as Mr. Stevenson writes, " no man could have a 
 nature more gentle and more truly refined," an 
 absolute freedom from time to time from the con- 
 straints of modern civilization was especially grateful 
 to him. 
 
 When practicable, he would get off to some 
 out-of-the-way spot and camp out under canvas with 
 a friend, their costume being, as one of his com- 
 panions says, "a loose mixture of the volunteer and 
 gamekeeper, with a dash of the Bengal sowar, from 
 wearing puggurees and handkerchiefs on our hats." 
 
 At other times he would hire, sometimes with his 
 brother, sometimes with another friend, a fishing- 
 boat, and sail about the East Coast. 
 
 1 This book is quite out of print, and I have had no oppor- 
 tunity of seeing it. 
 
78 
 
 Cfjarleg lleene 
 
 About this year (i860) he chartered one of 
 these with his friend Mr. Stacy Marks, with 
 whom he was on the closest terms of intimacy for 
 more than thirty years. Keene, who was never 
 without pen and paper, rarely on these occasions let 
 an opportunity slip of getting down a study from 
 Nature ; and, fortunately for us, Mr. Marks, who 
 had never before attempted pen-and-ink drawing, 
 was seized with the spirit of emulation, and produced 
 the portrait of Keene which appears opposite, as 
 well as the sketch of the "William and Mary," with 
 C. K. asleep in his bunk. My best thanks are due 
 to the artist for allowing me to reproduce these first 
 attempts in these pages. 
 
 On this trip Keene, always fond of a bit of boyish 
 fun, used to amuse himself by setting afloat, on calm 
 evenings, the empty eggshells which he had saved 
 from breakfast, with lighted candle-ends as cargo, 
 and watching them float away and burn themselves 
 out in the distance; and hugely delighted he was 
 when one evening the unusual phenomenon brought 
 the wary coastguard promptly down upon them. 
 
 It was about this time that Mr. Marks, through 
 the kind offices of C. K. with the editor of the 
 " Spectator," became Art critic to that journal. 
 
 Work was now very brisk. He was sending a 
 large number of drawings to "Punch" and "Once 
 a Week," and publishers were calling upon him for 
 book illustrations. 
 
 His position as an artist was by this time well 
 assured, and, comfortably settled as he was in 
 
SKETCHES OF CHARLES KEENE ON BOARD THE " WILLIAM AND MARY " 
 (i860), BY MR. H. S. MARKS, R.A. 
 
Baker Street ^ttiDio 
 
 79 
 
 Clipstone Street, he felt it hard to have to leave 
 these convenient quarters, which were required for 
 enlarging the stonemason's works. However, turn 
 out he had to, and a new studio was taken at 
 55, Baker Street, over the well-known photographers, 
 Messrs. Elliott and Fry. Here he remained for 
 about ten years. A gentleman who, for a portion of 
 that period, was doing outside work for " Punch," 
 sends the following humorous and characteristic 
 account of the artist : " I only paid him a couple 
 of visits or so," he writes, " in his studio at 
 Baker Street, and there found him grimly affable, 
 sweeping out his rooms with his own hands, and 
 yet receiving me with the sang-froid of a Balfour or 
 a Vere de Vere. He saw a situation with a flash 
 of lightning, for all his apparent stolidity. Have 
 you ever noticed a toad or a green frog catch a fly 
 on its tongue ? He took in jokes that way, with a 
 wild Celtic gleam of appreciation in his eye and an 
 occasional interjected grunt of satisfaction. He 
 played the bagpipes up there above Elliott and 
 Fry's, 1 and I can picture his cool enjoyment of the 
 consternation he must have felt he was causing down 
 below. I did the Irish jokes for 'Punch' at that 
 time, and where they were suited for illustration he 
 did them. . . . The profound politeness, as he 
 motioned me to a chair with his hearth-brush, would 
 Jiave made one of his best studies in black and white." 
 Keene was a great believer in the importance of 
 
 1 It was in 1869 that Keene first took up the bagpipes. There 
 will be much to say of this later on. 
 
8o 
 
 CljarU0 Beenc 
 
 regular exercise, and walked daily to and from his 
 work between Hammersmith and his studio. Always 
 disinclined to spend money over what he considered 
 unnecessary luxuries, it was only on the rarest occa- 
 sions that he would treat himself to a cab ; and, to 
 deter himself from using the ' Underground,' which 
 he considered unwholesome as a means of locomo- 
 tion, he made it a rule, on this principle, always to 
 travel first-class if he did. 
 
 On one occasion, however, it is on record that he 
 took a hansom the whole way from Baker Street to 
 112, Hammersmith Road. It happened in this 
 wise. After finishing his work one night, he had 
 religiously tramped all the way home through the 
 almost deserted streets at two o'clock in the morning. 
 Just as he reached his door it suddenly burst upon 
 him that he had forgotten to turn out the gas in his 
 studio. With the dogged resolution so characteristic 
 of him, he turned about on the threshold and trudged 
 wearily all the way back, only to find that he had not 
 left the gas alight. On this occasion he indulged in 
 the unusual luxury of a hansom home. His walking 
 powers he retained until his last illness. Indeed, 
 when he was already in failing health, he walked 
 from Felixstowe to Woodbridge and back, a matter 
 of a score of miles — not bad work for a man who had 
 passed the grand climacteric. 
 
 It was in this year (1863) that the Arts Club was 
 founded, Keene being one of the original members. 
 Up to the last year of his life he was a constant 
 frequenter of the house in Hanover Square, and 
 
81 
 
 there would, from time to time, though not frequently, 
 entertain a friend or two. On November 4, 1877, 
 we find him writing to Mr. Stewart: "I've asked 
 
 a friend to dine at the club to-day, a Major L , 
 
 whom I met some years ago when he was here from 
 India, and he's had another leave, and is going back 
 next month, and I've asked du Maurier and Tenniel 
 to meet him. I'm not used to the role, and it's rather 
 nervous work." 
 
 On the nth he writes in much glee : " My dinner 
 went off very well. We dined at the Saturday table 
 d'hote, where the craft muster in some strength and 
 make a lively party. My friend, the Indian Major, 
 praised the mulligatawny soup, and he wrote me 
 afterwards, ' I do not know when I have enjoyed an 
 evening more than last Saturday at your club. I 
 was very happy to make the acquaintance of Tenniel 
 and du Maurier, and a more cheery party altogether 
 than yours I have seldom met.' " 
 
 I shall, I hope, be forgiven for making this " Life " 
 in many respects a " small-beer " chronicle ; but, if 
 I am not mistaken, it is by such exposure of a man's 
 smallest hopes and fears that we are best enabled to 
 arrive at his veritable personality. We shall find, in 
 proceeding, that there is an exceptional ingenuousness 
 and unreserve about Keene's letters, qualities pecu- 
 liarly fascinating and instructive to those who only 
 knew him as somewhat bashful and uncommuni- 
 cative. 
 
 On October 28, 1864, John Leech died, and "Punch" 
 was deprived of the man who, more than any other, 
 
 G 
 
82 
 
 Cljarless l&eene 
 
 has identified himself with the genius of that journal. 
 But a few months before, cut off in the fullness of his 
 noble powers, Thackeray had also passed away, 
 and, although he had ceased to be a member of the 
 staff, his death was a staggering blow to the " Table," 
 which he so often revisited. It speaks volumes for 
 those who now stepped forward and assumed the 
 places of these two transcending geniuses in the 
 foremost rank of contributors that its columns marched 
 forward without check or waver. Of these Keene 
 was undoubtedly the strongest and most original, 
 although by no means the most acceptable to the 
 general public. The lack of beauty, of well-groomed- 
 ness, of respectability in his dramatis persona, was 
 not agreeable to a class, the majority of which, like 
 Malone's friend, Sir Michael le Fleming, prefer 
 the smell of a flambeau at the playhouse to the 
 fragrance of a May evening. That Keene could 
 have drawn the lovely be- Worthed young ladies and 
 the splendidly proportioned and frock-coated young 
 men with which Mr. du Maurier delights us week by 
 week, not to speak of the godlike hero of his charm- 
 ing novel, I do not think anyone can doubt, had he 
 set himself to do it, but it was part of the ineradicable 
 Bohemianism of his character and the realistic bent 
 of his genius that made him shun the representation 
 of what he considered artificial and an outrage upon 
 nature. 
 
 He was essentially one of those who care not for 
 what Jean Paul calls "the respect that is paid to 
 woollen cloth, not to thee," and he felt it beneath 
 
his dignity to pander to what he considered the 
 flabby tastes of the Sartocracy. That he carried his 
 scorn of the merely ornamental in clothes too far 
 cannot, I think, be doubted ; but his thoroughness in 
 this, as in everything else, was one of his most distin- 
 guishing qualities. 
 
 Keene was an artist who saw deep into the charac- 
 ters he portrayed. He was no Teufelsdrockh, to 
 undertake ''to expound the moral, political, even 
 religious influences of clothes," and to make mani- 
 fest, in its thousand-fold bearings, this grand propo- 
 sition, " that man's earthly interests are all hooked 
 and buttoned together and held up by clothes." 
 It was one of his grievances, in common with the 
 philosopher, that "day after day he must thatch 
 himself anew," and it was an evil which must be 
 minimized, not complicated, as far as possible. Lords 
 and beggars alike were to him "forked, straggling 
 animals with bandy legs," which he admitted must, by 
 force of their surroundings, be covered up, but when 
 clothed and warm there was an end of it. Life was 
 quite intricate enough without having to get in and 
 out of garments oftener than was necessary. Bitterly 
 he complains that at a house to which he was invited 
 he would have to " undress every day for dinner, and 
 th is means a Pantomime Portmanteau, and I hate 
 impedimenta in an outing, so I shall shirk if I 
 can." 
 
 Without in any way being at war with Society, he 
 was absolutely indifferent to the opinions which 
 Society held about him. " Them's my sentiments 
 
8 4 
 
 Cljarles Beene 
 
 pretty accurately," he writes one day, after quoting- 
 some verses by his old friend, Percival Leigh, in a 
 far back number of " Punch " — 
 
 " Outward show, ma'am, 
 
 I forego, ma'am, 
 When it interferes with ease ; 
 
 Often eat, ma'am, 
 
 In the street, ma'am, 
 As I walk, my bread and cheese. 
 
 " Mrs. Grundy, 
 
 Gloria Mundi 
 Passes like a dream away. 
 
 You may chatter, 
 
 That's no matter, 
 Ma'am, I care not what you say." 
 
 At the same time, it must be borne in mind that, 
 although Keene despised the poor artificialities of 
 modern existence, he clearly recognized, notwith- 
 standing his old-fashioned notions, that life in the 
 nineteenth century had its advantages. Although 
 undoubtedly there was in him a tendency to admire 
 things "old and ancient" purely because of the 
 accident of antiquity, he certainly did not despise a 
 thing merely because it was "fin de Steele!' 
 
 Irrational impracticableness, which refused to 
 recognize the conveniences of to-day, was as objec- 
 tionable to him as mere wanton Radicalism. He had 
 been on one occasion to a public lecture, and wrote 
 to his friend Mr. Bain, the well-known bookseller of 
 the Haymarket, " that sane men in this nineteenth 
 century should propound such romantic and utterly 
 impracticable notions — it reminded me of a fanatic 
 
(EnconfcentionaUsnn 
 
 35 
 
 of the same sect that I knew (but this was more 
 than twenty years ago — he's dead now) who wished 
 for a chest of drawers, and ordered that the trades- 
 man was to do it all himself, and, to get rid of 
 the mechanical neatness obtained by the use of 
 modern tools, etc., he was to make it entirely with 
 an adze ! " 
 
 Changes merely for fashion's sake were abhorrent 
 to him, but he welcomed with enthusiasm fresh 
 scientific discoveries and new and useful inventions. 
 Like Moltke, he was "full of merciless common 
 sense," and "held in supreme contempt the unctuous 
 humbug to which the modern Pharisee of public life 
 treats the people so copiously." He was intensely 
 independent and original. He chose to have his 
 own notions about things, and, if they were different 
 to other men's, then they must go their way and he 
 must go his. It did not matter one brass-farthing to 
 him what they thought of him. " Our dear, pic- 
 turesque, unsophisticated Carlo," as "Punch" calls 
 him, would go out and stay at country houses with 
 nothing but a small wallet, shaped like and little 
 bigger than a candle-box, slung over his shoulders. 
 It contained all his necessary luggage, and he was 
 not snob enough to carry more just because footmen 
 stared or maid-servants lauehed. 
 
 This independence and originality were always 
 cropping up where least expected. Most of us, 
 having been brought up to eggs and bacon or bacon 
 and eggs for breakfast, go on to our lives' ends 
 satisfied that these viands only, with an occasional 
 
86 
 
 Cljacleg T&ztne 
 
 variant in the shape of sausages, porridge, or kidneys, 
 were ordained by Providence to be eaten at the early 
 morning meal. But Keene liked apple tart for 
 breakfast, and did not see why, if he liked it, he 
 should not have it ; and, moreover, in houses where 
 his tastes were well understood, it became a standing 
 dish in his honour. Sweets and sausages too he ate 
 together, but perhaps his most original compound 
 was a mixture of pork gravy, marmalade, and brown 
 sugar. 
 
 Other favourite dishes were haggis, — which, with 
 Burns, he regarded as "chieftain of the Pudding 
 Race," — black pudding, and bouillabaisse ; of this 
 last we find him writing, " You remember Thackeray's 
 ballad about it (I found it too good), I'm not 
 surprised that it inspired his muse " — 
 
 " This Bouillabaisse a noble dish is — 
 
 A sort of soup or broth or brew, 
 Or hotch-potch of all sorts of fishes, 
 
 That Greenwich never could outdo ; 
 Green herbs, red peppers, mussels, saffron, 
 
 Soles, onions, garlic, roach and dace ; 
 All these you eat at Terre's tavern, 
 
 In that one dish of Bouillabaisse." 
 
 The fact was, that early in life his sense of taste 
 was much impaired, and the more delicate shades 
 of flavour he could not appreciate. Food had to 
 be superlatively sweet or bitter to meet with his 
 approval, just as he required his tobacco to be 
 strong, and rewarded himself for any specially 
 satisfactory work with the " dottles" which have 
 before been mentioned. 
 
Bcottjec 3|acob" 
 
 87 
 
 The year 1864 saw Keene's first, and last, 
 appearance in the " Cornhill Magazine." In the 
 July number for that year we find him providing two 
 drawings to illustrate an unsigned story, " Brother 
 Jacob," by George Eliot, a frontispiece, and an initial 
 letter. The story is, on the whole, perhaps a trifle 
 laboured and the wit elephantine, but the scene 
 which has been chosen for illustration is conceived 
 in the novelist's happiest manner, and the illustrator 
 has certainly done justice to his subject. Indeed it 
 would be hard to conceive of a more satisfactory 
 wedding of pen and pencil. The idiot brother, 
 Jacob, — whose idiocy by the way was not so intense 
 but that he knew within a limited range how to 
 choose the good and reject the evil, — with his broad 
 right hand laid immovable on the guineas, and the 
 wretched David who, with courage half returning, 
 has left off praying in his craven heart, " Oh, save 
 me this once, and I'll never get in danger again!" 
 are, I venture to think, masterpieces both of the 
 novelist and the artist. The family likeness between 
 the sane and the insane faces in the drawing is 
 marvellously convincing. The initial letter, too, 
 is a good, though perhaps somewhat conventional, 
 rendering of the story's conclusion. 
 
 This year (1864) found Keene also illustrating 
 "The Legends of Number Nip" for Messrs. Mac- 
 millan and Co., translated by Mark Lemon from 
 the German of Johann Karl Musseus, one of the 
 earlier collectors of " Volks M'drchen" The most 
 remarkable of these, and a very admirable pictorial 
 
88 
 
 Cljarles I&eene 
 
 rendering it is, is that to "The Headless Rogue and 
 the Countess," although it is noticeable that here the 
 artist has not read his text quite carefully, and has 
 
 A RUSTIC. 
 
 put the impostor upon horseback, where he has no 
 business to be. 
 
 The other five pictures, with the exception, per- 
 haps, of that to " The Gnome and the Tailor," are 
 
IRST DESIGN FOR VIGNETTE TO MARK LEMON'S JEST BOOK 
 
 :,OWMARSTO» &.CLTD iiE.100S.lHP LEMERCIER &.C WJHS 
 
"^racfcg for tourists " 
 
 89 
 
 hardly in Keene's best style. Another piece of 
 work of a very different character is to be found in 
 Mark Lemon's "Jest Book," published this same year, 
 also by Messrs. Macmillan and Co., in the Golden 
 Treasury Series. It is a very elaborate and beautiful 
 design, bearing little evidence of being by the same 
 hand as others of that period, and evidencing the 
 marvellous facility with which Keene could turn his 
 hand to an unfamiliar method. 
 
 This year, too, was first published in book form 
 " Tracks for Tourists," by F. C. Burnand, which 
 Keene had originally illustrated under the title of 
 " How, When, and Where," in the pages of 
 " Punch." 
 
 Of the illustrations, Mr. Burnand says they are 
 some of the very best he ever did. He himself was 
 much pleased with them, and frequently wanted me 
 to do another series of the same kind. 
 
 The 1864 edition is out of print, but the papers 
 and original illustrations have reappeared in the 
 recent republication of Mr. Burnand's works, in the 
 volume entitled "Very Much Abroad," London, 
 1890. 
 
 Keene, who was always ready to try his hand 
 at anything, now turned his attention to "tempera" 
 painting, and persuaded his friend Edwin Edwards 
 to do the same, but, I fancy, with no lasting 
 results. 
 
 The next year, certainly, there is the following 
 item in the diary of the latter, dated September 2, 
 1865: " C. K. about to undertake some 'tempera' 
 
90 
 
 Cljarleg Itone 
 
 painting of a mediaeval subject for a summer- 
 house of Birket Foster's at Witley," but this 
 seems never to have been carried out, and I find 
 no signs of his having proceeded with its practice 
 in later years. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 1864— 1868. 
 
 Keene as letter-writer. — " Parson Wilbur." — Mr. and Mrs. 
 Edwin Edwards. — Nicknames. — Dunwich. — Letter, August 5, 
 
 1864. — Tigbourne Cottage. — Christmas Carols. — Letter, Jan. 26, 
 
 1865. -- " Caudle Lectures." — " Punch " Pocket-book. — His 
 Etchings.— The Junior Etching Club. — " The Etcher."—" London 
 Society." — Letter, Sep. 12, 1867.— Letter, Sep. 13, 1867. — 
 Letter, Sep. 20, 1867. — Drawing direct from Nature. — His method. 
 — Anecdote from Mrs. Edwards. — " La Chronique des Arts." — 
 The Sausage Machine. — The Type-writer and Mr. Tuer. — "A 
 Failure." — Mr. Heseltine's Porch. — Mr. Stewart. 
 
 E have now arrived at the point where 
 Keene must be introduced to the 
 reader as a writer of letters. In the 
 main a silent, uncommunicative man, 
 retiring promptly into his shell in the presence of 
 strangers, listening eagerly to the opinions passed 
 by others but rarely expressing his own, it was a 
 difficult matter, except for those most intimate with 
 him in his every-day life, to get below the surface. 
 
 But far otherwise was it when he put pen to 
 paper in corresponding with such a close and 
 sympathetic friend as Mr. Joseph Crawhall. 
 
 For fully thirty years a regular correspondence 
 
9 2 
 
 was carried on between these two, and it is mainly 
 from this that the following selections have been 
 made. A lar^e number of other letters I have had 
 the privilege of perusing, for example, those to Mr. 
 and Mrs. Edwin Edwards, Mr. J. M. Stewart, and 
 Mr. Harral, but these were principally the inter- 
 mittent notes of friend to friend, by chance parted 
 for a week or month, and prompted by the require- 
 ments of the occasion, not letters deliberately sat 
 down to and penned in lieu of personal intercourse. 
 The correspondence with Mr. Crawhall was of so 
 voluminous a character that the task has been diffi- 
 cult of making a sufficiently representative and yet 
 not too abundant selection. 
 
 The biographer, enthusiastic over the character 
 with which he is dealing, is always in danger of 
 boring the casual and, perhaps, not enthusiastic 
 reader. I hope it will be found that I have success- 
 fully resisted the temptation to over diffuseness, and, 
 at the same time, have not unduly limited the output 
 of what to the all-round dilettante and the thorough- 
 going musician must, I think, prove a mine of 
 delightful and chatty information. 
 
 "It was," says old Parson Wilbur, holding forth 
 on the subject of letters, "it was to gratify the two 
 great passions of asking and answering that episto- 
 lary correspondence was first invented." Then, as 
 all who have read their " Biglow Papers " know, or 
 ought to know, he goes on to state that, " first, there 
 are those which are not letters at all " (which sounds 
 something like "concerning snakes in Iceland, there 
 
93 
 
 are no snakes in Iceland ") ; " that, secondly, there are 
 letters interesting for the sake of the writer or the 
 thing written ; and that, thirdly, there are letters con- 
 taining curious gossip," and so on, and so on. 
 
 Keene's letters have the double advantage of 
 being qualified to take their places in both of these 
 last categories, interesting and valuable as they are, 
 alike as giving us an insight into the nice inquisi- 
 tiveness of his mind, as well as for the scrupulous 
 accuracy of the curious information with which they 
 are filled. 
 
 In 1864 Keene was on the fullest terms of inti- 
 macy with Mr. Edwin Edwards and his wife, an 
 intimacy which continued uninterruptedly while life 
 lasted. He was a constant visitor at their house, 
 and took the liveliest interest in the artistic work for 
 which his friend had sacrificed a prominent legal 
 position. In him and his wife he discovered a 
 sympathetic appreciation, which was one of the 
 greatest happinesses of the last half of his life. The 
 best of good fellowship and reciprocal sincerity were 
 characteristics of this delightful intercourse. To 
 Keene, always fond of giving his friends pet names, 
 Mr. Edwards was ever spoken of as " The Master," 
 just as Edward Fitzgerald was " The Literate " and 
 Mr. Stacy Marks " The Ornithologist." Of Mrs. 
 Edwards, for whom he had the greatest admiration 
 and affection, he shows his high appreciation, humo- 
 rously alluding to her on one occasion to her husband 
 as " your seven-twelfth." 
 
 Writing of his visits to them on the Suffolk coast, 
 
94 
 
 Cfjacleg %zzxiz 
 
 he says : " I enjoy Dunwich so much, I can't help 
 talking of next year directly I leave it." Here the 
 Edwards' kept open house, and Keene constantly 
 availed himself of the standing invitation to get a 
 few days relaxation in their congenial company. 1 It 
 was a terrible shock to him, some years later, when 
 his friend was reported to be suffering from a much- 
 dreaded disease. He would not believe it, and wrote 
 with an impetuous optimism, " Curse the doctors ! . . . 
 What next ! I believe it is doubted whether there 
 is such a disease, and whether it is not an invention 
 of man's common enemy, the Faculty ! " 2 
 
 The first complete letter, with the exception of 
 the two of very early date given in the first chapter, 
 which I have to present to my readers refers mainly 
 to the tempera painting mentioned above. Keene 
 rarely put any dates to his letters, and, where only 
 discoverable from the postmarks on the envelopes, 
 they shall be inserted in brackets. 
 
 To Edwin Edwards, Esq. 
 
 "55, Baker Street. 
 
 \_August 5, 1864.] 
 
 " Dear Edwards, 
 
 " I would fain have snapped my fingers at duty 
 and my responsibilities and have joined you to-night, 
 
 1 Of them Edward Fitzgerald wrote : " Edwards was compara- 
 tively a friend of late growth — he and his brave wife ; these two, 
 and their little Dunwich in summer, were among my pleasures, 
 and will be, I doubt, among my regrets." — Letters and Literary 
 Remains of Edward Fitzgerald, vol. i., p. 447. 
 
 2 Mr. Edwards lived until September 15, 1879. 
 
Cempera 
 
 95 
 
 but have still a little conscience left. I must eet 
 forward with some ' Punch ' w r ork, and shall then be 
 able to truant the easier. I saw a friend of mine 
 from Witley yesterday, and he told me Stewart 
 was looking out still for a lodging for me there, and 
 had hopes of one soon, so perhaps I may go there 
 for a week or so soon. 
 
 " I called on Telbin yesterday about the Tempera, 
 and learnt a good deal about it. He says you can 
 get colours in powder that have been already ground 
 in spirits, and that this is the more convenient, as 
 you can set your palette with these colours dry, 
 whereas the colours you grind yourself, as they are 
 wet, look darker on the palette than they will appear 
 in the picture — on the other hand, they are more 
 expensive, being sold by the ounce, etc. They are 
 to be got at Brodie's in Long Acre, or any colour- 
 men's except the swell ones. You can get canvas 
 of various widths, six or eight feet some ; you don't 
 care for a join down the middle of your landscape, I 
 suppose ? You get a frame, nail the canvas on as 
 tight as you can, and then size it — half size and half 
 water — this tightens it still more. When it's dry 
 you prime it with whitening, making a paste of this 
 with water, and then adding ' double size,' i.e., size 
 merely melted. When this is dry, draw in with your 
 charcoal stick, and en avantl If you buy the regu- 
 lar distemper colours, which of course are much 
 cheaper than those mentioned above, you must 
 grind them, and a small mill Telbin showed me cost 
 £\ i a?. If you were coming to town we could call 
 
9 6 
 
 Ctjarlea l&eene 
 
 on old Telbin, and you could learn all you want to 
 know in no time. However, I'll see about these 
 colours for you if you like, and get whatever you 
 want sent down, but keep all dark till you've done 
 something, if you can. 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 " If I were you I would find out old Wright — he 
 might be of some service, and is a nice old fellow, I 
 believe. 
 
 " I send you a bit of the sort of canvas." 
 
 This letter contains a very charming sketch of his 
 friend employed upon a canvas about fifteen feet 
 high, illustrating the manner in which certain neces- 
 sary instruments should be used. 
 
 The year 1865 found Keene making what was, 
 for him, a great departure. His friend Mr. Birket 
 Foster, who had at this time built for himself a 
 beautiful house at Witley, had removed thither from 
 Tigbourne Cottage, close by, which he had pre- 
 viously occupied. This cottage Mr. Foster still 
 rented, in order that he might make sure of the 
 presence of an agreeable and congenial occupant, 
 and nothing delighted him more than the opportunity 
 of sub-letting it to Keene, thus securing his friend as 
 a frequent neighbour. Here Keene did much of his 
 work, running down to it as often as he could get 
 out of town, and not failing to assert his uncon- 
 ventionalism by always passing his nights in a 
 hammock. 
 
facsimile better 
 
 97 
 
 Facsimile of Letter to Mr. Edwin Edwards, vide 
 p. 94 et seq. 
 
 H 
 
98 Cfmdeg l&eene 
 
jfac0fmrte %ztm 
 
 99 
 
 O <3 O O O 
 
IOO 
 
 s 
 
Cljrigtmag Carols* 
 
 IOI 
 
 Of Witley he writes to Mrs. Edwards: " The 
 stillness here after London is delicious. The only 
 sound is the ring of the village blacksmith's hammer 
 in the distance or the occasional cluck of a hen, and 
 the wind roars through the trees of a night, which 
 lulls me pleasantly to sleep." 
 
 Many a blue-jacket, who was a boy at the " King 
 Edward's School" in that neighbourhood, will re- 
 member the long, lank figure of the artist, and his 
 deep bass voice, as he joined them there one 
 Christmas singing their midnight carols round the 
 village, headed by the Chaplain with a lantern 
 belted on him to read his part by— " a stout old 
 priest with a Friar Tuck waddle and a trolling bass 
 voice." 
 
 A picturesque group they must have been as they 
 went from house to house, the boys all wrapped in 
 their blankets, and the pure white snow as a back- 
 ground. 
 
 To Alexander Macdonald, Esq. 
 
 "Tigbourne Cottage, 
 
 " Witley, Surrey. 
 
 "Jan. 26 [1865]. 
 
 " Dear Macdonald, 
 
 " I won't fail to lecture your friend on his back- 
 sliding as a correspondent, and that quite as seriously 
 as if I myself were a second Horace Walpole for 
 readiness to scribble. This is a pleasant retreat to 
 fly to for a day or two from the row and turmoil of 
 London, and gives my friends too the opportunity of 
 calling it my 'country house,' and the pleasure of 
 
102 
 
 Cfjarleg J&wxt 
 
 making me wince by hinting at the wealth that 
 enables me to afford such a luxury ! 
 
 " It's a bosky-copsey country, very picturesque and 
 English, with just a suggestion (compared to Scot- 
 land) of hills on the horizon (the Hog's Back), but 
 from there being so many trees, when the glass 
 does fall the rain comes down with a vengeance. 
 Last night there was a furious gale, which kept 
 everybody awake but me. My couch is a hammock, 
 which wraps round me so comfortably, it's like 
 'poppies and mandragora.' We've a small aris- 
 tocracy of artists too down here, — Birket Foster, 
 Burton, Watson and Jones, — and amongst our sur- 
 roundings there's a good deal of fun to be picked up. 
 That reminds me of an extract from a catalogue of 
 a country auction down here the other day. Among 
 the books were these two lots : — 
 
 No. 20. — Mill on Liberty. 
 „ 21. — Do. on The Floss! 
 
 "They have their 'girds' at us too. I heard of 
 a Belle of the nearest town remarking of the curious 
 manners and customs of those artists, that she had 
 actually seen them in Society in evening dress up to 
 the waist, and a velveteen jerkin and any-coloured 
 necktie a-top ! # # # 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 This same year saw the republication of Douglas 
 Jerrold's "Caudle Lectures" by Messrs. Bradbury 
 and Evans in book form, with illustrations by Charles 
 
"Cauble Hectuceg" 
 
 103 
 
 STUDY FOR FRONTISPIECE TO THE " CAUDLE LECTURES." 
 
 Keene. Surely of these it is unnecessary to speak. 
 There is not a picture among them which portrays 
 the poor old reprobate Caudle bearing up as best he 
 
104 
 
 Cfjacleg I&eene 
 
 could against the terrible scolding Nemesis which 
 awaited him at home throughout his married life, 
 which one does not dwell upon with infinite pleasure, 
 and, once passed, long to turn to again. Were it 
 my purpose to criticise the work of Charles Keene 
 in this place, twenty pages would be too cramped 
 a space in which to give a proper consideration 
 to these wonderful illustrations. They are so 
 astonishingly convincing, and there is such a direct- 
 ness and absence of effort in the treatment, that it is 
 difficult at first to realize them as works of art at all, 
 and not to look upon them rather as some natural 
 product, faultless because brought about by the hand 
 of a perfect comprehension. There is in them a 
 catching of Nature at her most humorous moments, 
 without a particle of exaggeration, which is, when 
 understood, perfectly astonishing. But I run the risk 
 of being accused of exaggeration, and refer every 
 lover of pictorial art to the careful study of the 
 illustrations for himself. 
 
 The following year, 1866, witnessed Keene's first 
 appearance with " Mrs. Professor Fogey's Reading 
 Class : Subject — Wonders of the Deep," in the pages 
 of " Punch's Pocket-Books," issued from 85, Fleet 
 Street, for many years, but now abandoned. For a 
 long time subsequently he annually designed the 
 long, coloured folding frontispieces, the woodcuts 
 scattered throughout the text being mainly executed 
 by Tenniel and Linley Sambourne. Curious and 
 interesting as are some of these coloured plates, they 
 cannot, I think, be considered on the whole good 
 
"iaunclj" pocket Boobs 105 
 
 specimens of his work. Most of them deal with 
 the never-failing war of the sexes, such as " Mr. 
 Punch's School of Cookery," " Courtship and Con- 
 jugality," 1874 ; " The Androgynceceum Club," 1875 ; 
 "The Modern Babylonian Marriage Market," 1876; 
 and " The Autumnal (Matrimonial) Manoeuvres," 
 1877 : or the struggles of the weaker sex towards 
 emancipation, such as " The Ladies' New Gallery," 
 1870; "Sweetness and Light, or Science in her 
 Silver Slippers," 1873; and "Mr. Punch's Reading 
 Party," 1878. 1 Some, doubtless, are very much 
 better than others, and, if all were equal to " The 
 Modern Babylonian Marriage Market," and " The 
 Androgynceceum Club," we should be inclined to 
 rank them as well worthy of his genius. Most, 
 however, give one the idea of being but the tasks 
 of a perfunctory and unsympathetic imagination. 
 
 On the other hand, the series of portraits of " Mr. 
 Punch," with which the title-pages are adorned, are 
 about as good as good can be, whether posing as 
 Cupid holding the cord to the human pigeon-trap at 
 the matrimonial Hurlingham, or as Sentry mounted 
 guard over the pocket-book, or as armoured Knight 
 pricking forth to tourney, or as Postilion tootling on 
 his horn, or as splendid Flunkey ogling the lady 
 whose fair shoulders he is privileged to cloak. 
 These quaint figures show us Keene's whimsical 
 fancy at its best, and compel us to accept them 
 
 1 The original drawing for this was exhibited, with some other 
 of Keene's sketches for " Punch," at the Newcastle-upon-Tyne Arts 
 Association Exhibition that same year, Nos. 649 and 650. 
 
io6 
 
 as portraits. Before leaving the pocket-books it 
 should be mentioned that most of these plates were 
 etched by Keene upon the copper, some few, how- 
 ever, being drawn with pen and ink, and engraved 
 upon the wood by Mr. Swain. These trifles, of 
 course, are not to be ranked with Keene's more 
 important etchings, which of late years attracted so 
 much attention in Paris, and which led to his being 
 placed by M. Beraldi among " Les graveurs du 
 dix-neuvieme siecle," as mentioned above. Writing 
 of these in " L'Artiste " for May, 1891, M. Bracque- 
 mond says : " Par la liberte, l'ampleur de leur dessin 
 et de leur execution, ces graveurs doivent etre 
 classes parmi les eaux-fortes modernes du premier 
 rang." Unfortunately they are not obtainable in the 
 market. Indeed, with two exceptions, none of his 
 serious etchings seem ever to have been given to the 
 public. The first of these exceptions is an etching 
 of a scene during the Plague, signed C. Keene, in 
 " Passages from Modern English Poets, illustrated 
 by the Junior Etching Club," published by Day and 
 Son, lithographers to the Queen, 1862. It is a 
 very fine plate, representing a Cavalier with cloak 
 held close to face, stealing shuddering through the 
 deserted streets, in those awful days when "Friends 
 in the distance watched for friends ; watched that 
 they might not meet." 
 
 The second is a very beautiful and tender etching 
 of Southwold Pier, which appeared in the March 
 number, 1 88 1, of "The Etcher," an Art magazine 
 then edited by Mr. H. M. Cundall, but now extinct. 
 
107 
 
 Keene never thought much of his capabilities as an 
 etcher, and, as has been seen, was astonished, almost 
 dismayed, that his name should be included amongst 
 the etchers of the nineteenth century. 
 
 He looked upon his prosecution of the art as a 
 pastime rather than as a serious occupation. Indeed 
 so casually did he treat his plates that it is on record 
 that at least one was spoilt in the biting-in by the 
 pouring on of the turpentine in place of the acid ! 
 As to the printing of them, unlike most etchers, who 
 think they alone can do full justice to their plates, he 
 thought it not worth the bother, and would delegate 
 this task to his friend Mrs. Edwards. Nor indeed 
 could he have done much better, for, although an 
 amateur, I think I am right in saying there is hardly 
 a better printer than this lady to be found in London. 
 
 In this year too Keene was helping to illustrate 
 the Christmas number of " London Society," for 
 which publication he continued to work for several 
 years. In the Christmas number for 1870 we find 
 him using himself as a model in the initial " W " on 
 p. 39, and in the half-page drawing, p. 45. 
 
 In September of the next year Keene, who had 
 been staying with the Edwards at Cliff Cottage, 
 Southwold, wrote as follows : — 
 
 To Mrs. Edwin Edwards. 
 
 "55, Baker Street. 
 
 "Thursday. 
 
 {September 12, 1867.] 
 
 "Dear Mrs. Edwards, 
 
 " Thank you for sending the letters; I got them 
 
ioS 
 
 Cfjarles Ifceene 
 
 this morning. The face of Nature seemed to fall 
 yesterday directly I had left Southwold ; the horses 
 toiled along as if they were dragging something very 
 heavy, and the sky loured and the rain fell all in 
 accord with my spirits as we crawled into Darsham. 
 Here's an original distich to head a chapter of the 
 Master's book on Suffolk : ' Lives there a man with 
 heart so light, That Darsham couldn't daunt his 
 sprite ! ' When the train came up I thought I was 
 lucky in finding a carriage with a nice, gloomy, 
 unconversational-looking man in it, and thought to 
 enjoy a hard smoke and no talking all the journey, 
 but at Saxmundham a lady got in with an old nurse 
 and dreadfully intelligent child. In the whispered 
 conversation between the mother and someone who 
 came to see her off, I caught the words, 'as surly 
 as the other.' I've no doubt this applied to me, 
 and that they had been scowled away from the other 
 carriages and had taken ours as a last resource. 
 More ladies, till the compartment was full of 'em ; 
 and I found the gloomy man was an impostor, for 
 he made himself agreeable and 'talked conversa- 
 tion.' I couldn't. This journey reminded me of a 
 story I read the other day in ' Blackwood ' ; you'll 
 find it in the June, July, and August numbers.. 
 You'll know it by its being a hard name, which I 
 forget. I advise you to get it from your library. I 
 thought the beginning, as much as I read of it, 
 very good. Your bulletin, though short, was very 
 interesting, and to-day, here, the morning is as glad 
 and bright an one as we've had, and I've been 
 
"^Ijoge pallt'D (15ni$erbrcat)0 " 109 
 
 seeing you in my mind's eye. I've kept one of 
 those pallid gingerbreads you gave me, and run a 
 string through it and hung it up in my studio ' for 
 remembrance.' I should like to have made one at 
 the moonlight sketchings. I want the Master to 
 worm out for me from Jeaffreson, who reviewed 
 
 . 's last poems in the ' Athenaeum ' a short 
 
 time ago ; he can say he wants the information 
 
 for a friend (but don't mention my name). 
 
 is an old friend of mine, and as the critique was a 
 very flattering one she is naturally curious to know 
 who wrote it, and for the same reason Jeaffreson 
 may not object to say. The Master can bring up 
 
 the subject of poetry, female poetry criticism, 's 
 
 in particular, etc., etc. Tell Mrs. C I posted 
 
 her letters carefully. Entre nous, get to sit to 
 
 A. Garrod, he'll get some good photographs of her; 
 and get him to do her head a good size, and without 
 her hat as well as with, he won't have such a chance 
 
 again of such a beauty ; and tell E to mind he 
 
 does not break those negatives. Commend me to 
 
 w ith my kindest regards, and say I hope she 
 
 will diligently finish her picture and etch a plate, for, 
 if it's (not) too presumptuous, after overlooking her 
 at work I hold her as rather a pupil. I'll write to 
 the Master next week, but have only time now to 
 save this post ; but I must thank you again for your 
 kindness to me, and so making my stay with you the 
 pleasantest holiday I've had for a long time. 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
I IO 
 
 Cljarleg Iktmz 
 
 The "subject" mentioned in the following letter 
 subsequently appeared in " Punch." The sketch, 
 as given in the letter, is reproduced in facsimile 
 on page 157. It will be found interesting to com- 
 pare this with the woodcut of the finished picture on 
 page 84 of " Our People." The " Shods " mentioned 
 were certain wooden huts on the shore, used by Mr. 
 Edwards and his friends as studios. 
 
 To Edwin Edwards, Esq. 
 
 "55, Baker Street. 
 
 " Thursday night. 
 
 [September 13, 1867.] 
 
 " Dear Edwards, 
 
 " I had to finish my note to Mrs. Edwards in 
 a hurry to save the post, and forgot two or three 
 things. I return your pencil I took away inadver- 
 tently ; and will you get Robert to take those leather 
 leggings and leave them at Cobb's lodgings with 
 C. Keene's compliments and thanks ? They hang 
 up in my bedroom. I've digested that subject 
 you gave me — over leaf. Submit it to Jeaffreson, 
 because he gave me very kindly a legend for it, but 
 I've shortened it very much. Jot down any other 
 subjects that strike you. London seems very dull 
 and empty. I don't know yet whether I shall be 
 able to do my Scotch trip, but shall if I can. The 
 moon is shining brightly now, and I'm with you 
 
 and in fancy, at the ' Shods.' For God's sake 
 
 don't set 'em alight, they're combustible places I 
 
1 1 1 
 
 should think. If I can do anything for you or Mrs. 
 C command me. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " Charles Keene." 
 
 To Edwin Edwards, Esq. 
 
 " Ultima Thule, 
 
 " Aber-r-r-deen, 
 
 " Thursday. 
 ^September, 20, 1867.] 
 
 " Dear Edwards, 
 
 " I forget whether in that hurried note I sent 
 you just before I started if I thanked you sufficiently 
 for your jolly long letter, which I appreciate the 
 more because I know how tired and somnolent your 
 many hours of hard work in the open air must make 
 you. I received your present of the basket of mush- 
 rooms just before I started. I suppose Mrs. C 
 
 left it as I wasn't in at the time. I handed the con- 
 tents to my housekeeper, except the specimen of 
 Agaricus Procerus, which I hung up. I was rather 
 nervous afterwards, thinking, in case she eat them 
 all, and there being some maglignant ones amongst 
 them, that I might be recalled to town on 
 ' Crowner's Quest,' but was reassured yesterday 
 on seeing the ' Times ' newspaper. I had a very 
 fatiguing journey up to Edinbro', as I had not the 
 length of the carriage seat to myself, and can't sleep 
 doubled up. I had not a very easy night's rest. It 
 was a very fine sight coming into Newcastle about 
 half-past four, just getting light ; I think the finest 
 grey picture I ever saw. I've never seen anything 
 
112 
 
 Cljacles T&ztnz 
 
 like it ever painted, and for a day-dawn picture I 
 don't think you'd find a more elig — (don't know how 
 to spell it) — a more convenient place in Christendom. 
 
 " Got to Edinbro' about half-past eight ; admired 
 the coup d'oieul(sic) (that's a suspicious word), and got 
 a wash and shave and breakfast, and then, with some 
 difficulty, from not being acquainted with the Scot- 
 tish language, found my way a few miles by rail to 
 my friend ; loafed and dined with him and came 
 back to Edinbro' ; walked about the city at dusk — 
 then it was very fine and mysterious, certainly — and 
 at nine o'clock at night started for this place, getting 
 here dead beat at three a.m. My friends here, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Christie, are most congenial people, 
 and quite of our sort. I've been loafing about 
 looking at this curious granite city. One thing 
 about the place interests me particularly. They 
 only build sailing ships here, and the hammering of 
 the wooden bolts, instead of the iron (and they only 
 build wooden skips), is most musical to my ear. It's 
 a caller air here though, and I've not sketched much. 
 I lack your example rather, I fancy. We are going 
 a jaunt to Dunottar Castle on Saturday, and on 
 Tuesday next I return to Edinbro' for a couple of 
 days, and then I shall come back by boat, and if we 
 pass the Suffolk coast in the daytime I shall look 
 out for your poles with the best glass I can borrow 
 in the ship, and wish I was ashore, I dare say. 
 
 v< I hope you are getting on well with the Walbers- 
 wick picture, and find my outlines ' right side up ' 
 still. And also, who had my valuable assistance 
 
113 
 
 in that respect, will take advantage of it by turning 
 out a ' liner ' for next year's Exhibition. Persuade 
 her to make an etching, and recollect my name's 
 down for proofs. 
 
 " I send you a little ' lied ' we must learn by heart, 
 parodied from recollection, and as I know nothing 
 of German, won't answer for the spelling of the 
 words. You must learn the first part. 
 
 " I dined at Holland Park on Saturday ; it appears 
 
 all our music was sent from thence. Tell I mean 
 
 to make myself quite perfect in that < Bianca Lura ' by 
 the next time we meet. I'll send you those trios I 
 spoke to you about, and when my ' liberty ' 's over 
 and I settle down in town I'll diligently get up my 
 guitar part in view of future concerts. Will you ask 
 Mrs. Edwards to get Court to print me a very dark 
 
 copy of that photo group in which 's face comes 
 
 against the book, as unless it is printed very strongly 
 the outline of the profile is lost. I hope this letter 
 will reach you by Sunday, but I don't know how the 
 post goes here ; and I will drop you a line directly I 
 get back, which will be about the end of next week. 
 I'm just now going to the market in the ' Place,' 
 to pick up some properties and mementoes of this 
 northern capital, and shall bring something home for 
 
 you. And with kindest regards to Mrs. Edwards 
 
 I hope she is better — 
 
 " I am, yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 Writing to Mr. Edwards this same month, he says : 
 
Cljarles Bcene 
 
 " I have a subject for which I want a surtout coat, so 
 I will make a study of your best." This will serve 
 as a good text from which to say a few words as to 
 one prevailing characteristic of Keene's method. 
 
 It was an unvarying rule with him, where in any 
 way practicable, to draw direct from nature, or if 
 not from nature, from the model. As we have seen 
 above, in his Strand studio a prominent object was 
 the large cheval glass, before which he would pose 
 as his own model, and, after his death, large parcels 
 of these studies, done chiefly upon the insides of old 
 envelopes which he had treasured up for the purpose, 
 were found amongst his papers. Any envelopes 
 would not do, and he chiefly affected certain brown- 
 coloured ones, which he received in correspondence 
 with Mr. Swain. 
 
 Always on the look out for subjects for his pen 
 which might prove useful, for many years he made a 
 practice of carrying an exciseman's ink-bottle tied 
 on to his waistcoat button, and a sketch-book in his 
 pocket, so as to be ready to catch any passing inci- 
 dent, face, or expression. The length to which he 
 would carry this conscientious determination of his 
 to do his best, even in the drawing of the most trivial 
 object, is well illustrated by the following story, told 
 to me by Mrs. Edwards. 
 
 One day a lady friend, a lecturer upon - hygienic 
 costume, said to her, " I wonder whether Mr. Keene 
 would draw me a picture of a down-trodden, high- 
 heeled shoe, to illustrate my subject." Mrs. Edwards 
 said she would see. Accordingly the next time he 
 
at Street Corners 115 
 
 came to Golden Square, where she then lived, she 
 made the request. 
 
 " Very well," said Keene ; " but I must have a 
 high-heeled shoe to do it from." 
 
 " Oh, you can do it well enough out of your head," 
 said Mrs. Edwards; "and, besides that, I've not got 
 such a thing in the house." 
 
 "Indeed," answered Keene, "I can do no such 
 thing. Get me one of the servants' shoes. They 
 probably wear high heels." 
 
 Nor would he consent to make the drawing 
 until this was done, and an old boot duly placed 
 in position on the piano, when he set to work and 
 produced a most admirable portrait of it, which is 
 now preserved as a great treasure by the lucky 
 recipient. 
 
 Whether the writer in "La Chronique des Arts" 
 is right in saying that he would often induce a 
 hansom cabman to yield up his driving seat (I pre- 
 sume whilst on the rank) to avoid the inconvenience 
 of making his studies of the streets amidst their 
 jostling crowds, I cannot say, although it is easily 
 believable ; but certain it is that he was often to be 
 found standing at street corners and shop-windows 
 coolly and unconcernedly jotting down his pictorial 
 notes. One day a friend found him, in broad day- 
 light, in Regent Street, drawing from the pavement 
 a new sausage machine, but recently invented. Not 
 shirking publicity where, as in this case, he found 
 it necessary to his work, he nevertheless gladly 
 embraced the opportunity of being protected from 
 
n6 
 
 Charles I&eenc 
 
 the vulgar gaze, and begged his friend to conceal 
 him. This, by means of an umbrella, he was able 
 
 Vide LETTER TO MR. TUER AS TO TYPEWRITER. 
 
 to do, and under its welcome shelter Keene worked 
 away until the study was completed. 
 
 Apropos to this scrupulous regard of his for accu- 
 
Capacity Cor 'Caking; pamg 117 
 
 racy of detail, we find him writing to Mr. Tuer : 
 " Have you a figure of a type- writer, or can you give 
 me a rough sketch, this view ? I've been looking 
 through the trade circular advts. and can't find one/' 
 A facsimile of the sketch enclosed is given opposite, 
 surely a wonderful production, dashed oif as it was 
 merely as an indication of an accidental requirement. 
 The woodcut from the finished picture is to be found, 
 entitled "A Failure," on page 87 of "Punch" for 
 February 25, 1888. 
 
 But, perhaps, the most charming example of the 
 length to which he would carry this consistency of 
 method is to be found in a photograph taken by 
 Mr. Heseltine, with whom Keene was staying at 
 the time, of the artist perched on the summit of a 
 high step-ladder, for the purpose of getting a study 
 of the porch of his host's house from the particular 
 angle required for his picture. 
 
 Writing to his friend Mr. Stewart, September 1, 
 1878, he says : " I shall try and do that subject you 
 suggested of the Cricket Match and Bull Terrier, 
 but I don't know the game. As you're on the spot, 
 and Charlie is a player, you know all about it. 
 Send us a plan where the ' legs ' and fielders stand. 
 
 Perhaps Willie F will know." And then, in a 
 
 postscript : " I only know where the batsmen and 
 bowlers stand." Here follows a plan of wickets and 
 batsmen and bowlers, all zvrong. 
 , These must suffice as examples of Keene's infinite 
 capacity for taking pains. I cannot refrain, however, 
 before bringing this chapter to a close, from quoting 
 
u8 
 
 some excellent advice given to the same friend, 
 which incidentally shows the importance he attached 
 to the general adoption of this painstaking method. 
 " What do you mean," he writes, " that you have 
 been working, but without success ? Do you mean 
 
 SKETCH OF HIMSELF IN LIEU OF SIGNATURE TO A LETTER. 
 
 that you cannot get the price you ask ? then sell 
 it for less, till, by practice, you shall improve, and 
 command a better price. Or do you only mean that 
 you are not satisfied with your work ? nobody ever 
 
 was that I know, except J W . Peg away ! 
 
 While you're at work you must be improving. . . . 
 Do something from Nature indoors when you cannot 
 get out, to keep your hand and eye in practice. 
 
"$eg; atoap!" 
 
 119 
 
 Don't get into the way of working too much at your 
 drawings away from Nature." 
 
 On the opposite page is a portrait of himself, 
 drawn in lieu of signature to a letter to Mr. Edwards, 
 on November 23 of this year. 1 
 
 1 Amongst the numerous sketches of C. K. by himself in 
 " Punch " may be mentioned those at the head of the Index of 
 the first half-yearly volume of this year (1867); at commence- 
 ment of vol. lvii., 1869; ditto, vol. lxxiii., 1877; in "Harmony," 
 June 18, 1881 j in "Walton's Complete Bungler," September 10, 
 1881, and in "Number One," February n, 1888; and amongst 
 the portraits of him by Mr. du Maurier, those on January 20, 
 1866, and October 5, 1867. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 1869— 1871. 
 
 Bagpipes.— Letter, Oct. 26, 1869.— Mr. J. Sands.— His Re- 
 miniscences of Keene. — Extracts from letter to Mr. Crawhall on 
 Bagpipes. — The Practice-stick. — Breton Bagpipe. — Northumber- 
 land Pipe reeds. — The Beethoven of Bagpipers. — Dentistry and 
 mouthpieces. — Enthusiastic Piper in Hyde Park. — Dr. Ellis, 
 F.R.S. — Mr. A. J. Hipkins. — Experiments with Scheibler Tono- 
 meter. — The Stockhorn. — His godson a Piper.— Bagpipes at the 
 Siamese Legation.— A Hoax.— Life at " Tig."— Letter, Tan. 9, 
 1869. 
 
 HE year 1869 was marked bv the 
 appearance of a new musical craze. 
 It was in this year that Keene first 
 took up, with his usual enthusiastic 
 thoroughness, the study of an instrument, whose 
 archaic origin and caviare quaintness were peculiarly 
 attractive to a man of his fantastic turn. 
 
 As time went on, and he grew more and more 
 practically familiar with them and studied their fas- 
 cinating history, his love for the bagpipes amounted 
 almost to a passion. His letters, as will be seen, 
 teem with allusions to them, and are so informed 
 with a genuine enthusiasm that they almost inspire 
 
121 
 
 the reader, for the time being, with a similar zeal. 
 Their origin ; their varieties, from the powerful 
 and elaborate Irish to the small and sweeter- toned 
 Northumbrian ; their different parts, the keys, pipe- 
 reeds, drones, and chaunters ; their different scales ; 
 their makers and the makers of their different parts ; 
 the music written for them, the marches, pibrochs, 
 strathspeys, and reels, all come in for animated dis- 
 cussion and nice comparison. 
 
 The first mention of his new " craze " is to be 
 found in the following letter, so breezy and delightful 
 that it shall be given in full. 
 
 To Edwin Edwards, Esq. 
 
 " 55, Baker Street. 
 
 {October 26, 1869.] 
 
 " Dear Master, 
 
 " I have not had much to write about since you 
 left, and not much leisure from work, but now I'm 
 hard at the pocket-book etching, and, as I don't 
 torture my eyes with this by gaslight, I take the 
 pleasant opportunity of having a 'crack' with you. 
 I hear you've had bad weather for out-door work, 
 not bad enough to stop you though, I apprehend, 
 but it must have been irksome to your pupils. I 
 hope the ladies are all well. I'm sorry (selfishly) to 
 hear you think of wintering again at the Land's End, 
 so we loafers will miss our pleasant afternoon's half- 
 hour in Piccadilly, but I fancy you are impatient to 
 test your moveable studio. I've had no holiday 
 since you left, haven't even been down to Tig. 
 
122 
 
 This aggravated me somewhat as the summer 
 waned, but I've got over it now. I haven't learnt 
 a tune on my ' great bagpipes ' yet (I forget whether 
 you know of this new musical vagary of mine), but 
 have made acquaintance with an eccentric old Scot 
 who is an enthusiastic lover of that dulcet instru- 
 ment, has a collection of them and fiddles and 
 guitars, but the pipes and Banffshire tunes (!) before 
 all. I was saying to him that, admiring the pipes as 
 I did, perhaps from the threatening character of the 
 instrument, it was better suited to ' the field,' in other 
 words, ' out o' doors.' Oh ! he said, he liked 'em 
 in a small room, with the floor shaking under your 
 feet and the windows rattling with the vibration. 
 Again about pipes : MacCallum (he's back) tells me 
 his father's piper, who makes them besides, has 
 fabricated a set with very small drones, so that they 
 sound like a nest of hornets buzzing an accompani- 
 ment ! That must be very jolly. Don't forget to 
 send me any pleasantry that may have come under 
 your 'ken'; — may help me in the Almanac. I 
 heard of an artist subject the other day — a land- 
 scape painter at work out of doors ; large canvas 
 and palette, etc. ; two countrymen looking on. Says 
 one, ' He's a-paintin' two pictures at oncet ! I 
 likes the one he's got his thumb through the best ! 
 
 I called on Mrs. C yesterday ; Lucas and his 
 
 little bride were there. is going to learn 
 
 Persian of a learned Pundit. It appears that Persian 
 poetry is very fine. The only specimen I could 
 recollect was a translation of a love-song, beginning 
 
31* £5>Atlt)0 
 
 123 
 
 ' My heart is like a piece of meat put down to roast' 1 
 Old Lascarides said, although it sounds queer in 
 translation it might be very beautiful in the original ; 
 so it might, but it isn't for the likes of me and my 
 bagpipes to gird at anybody else in the pursuit of 
 
 learningf. Mrs. C is still on the look-out for a 
 
 house ; they talk about one at Kensington. Mills 
 has thrown over strings and taken violently to the 
 flute — wants to get up a quartette of four of 'em in 
 my rooms ! I'm indifferent hardy, but I fancy I 
 should like to have an extra flannel shirt to sit in 
 such a thorough draught ! 1 Won't you winter in 
 London now? Give my kindest regards to Mrs. 
 Edwards and the Paintresses. 
 
 " ' Adichat.' 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " C. K." 
 
 Some seven years before this Keene had made 
 the acquaintance of Mr. J. Sands, subsequently the 
 author of " King James's Wedding, and Other 
 Rhymes," illustrated by C. K. This gentleman has 
 kindly sent me some recollections of a friendship 
 which lasted for many years. Dealing largely, as 
 they do, with Keene's earliest devotion to the bag- 
 pipes, they will find fitting insertion here. 
 
 "In the winter of 1862," writes Mr. Sands, "I 
 accompanied a friend to a dingy studio in a back 
 court in Clipstone Street, where I was introduced to 
 the tenant, Charles Keene. He was then in the 
 noon of life and full of vigour. He was tall, and 
 1 This afterwards took definite shape in a " Punch " picture. 
 
124 
 
 Cljarleg Heene 
 
 walked with a stalwart step. He had a finely-formed 
 head, covered with a crop of short jet-black curly- 
 hair. His face,, if not classical, was striking. His 
 eyebrows were thick and black, and his eyes were 
 open, grey, and luminous. 
 
 " He had a trick, when telling a funny story, of 
 winking the wrong way — of opening one eye instead 
 of shutting it. His nostrils were large, and looked, 
 when he was particularly animated, as if he were 
 snorting. I never saw him in a rage, but can imagine 
 that if he had been sufficiently provoked he would 
 have been savage enough. The acquaintance thus 
 commenced ripened into friendship, which endured 
 until the close of his life — for he was very faithful 
 and constant in his attachments. I then resided in 
 Albany Street, Regent's Park, and he would call 
 pretty often and invite me to a Bohemian party in 
 his studio, which was not far distant. He himself 
 was temperate to a fault, both in eating and drinking, 
 but at such convivial meetings he would circulate 
 the bottle, and be the gayest of the gay. 
 
 " He smoked incessantly, and generally sat clasp- 
 ing his ankles, with his feet on the chair. When I 
 left London I met him frequently at the home of a 
 mutual friend at Reigate, whither he went to spend 
 the Sunday. On one occasion I was one of a party 
 who paid him a visit at Witley, where he had a 
 cottage, to. which he would occasionally retreat to 
 enjoy the country air and the society of Mr. Birket 
 Foster and other artist friends. I remember we 
 walked to Hazlemere, and that on our return Keene 
 
KEENE'S PORTRAIT OF HIMSELF I N 'F^UNCH' PICTURE 
 
^>cotlanD 
 
 125 
 
 and I took tea alone in his cottage. After tea he 
 sat in shirt sleeves on the sill of the wide-open 
 window, twanging a guitar and looking the picture 
 of perfect happiness. 
 
 " When I left England for Scotland, and sub- 
 sequently for South America, we fostered our 
 friendship by frequent correspondence. A letter 
 from him (sometimes accompanied by the gift of an 
 antique tobacco-pipe) would make a sunshine to me 
 in many a shady place. I think (but I have a 
 wretched memory for dates) that it was in 1869 he 
 paid his first visit to Scotland and to me. I was 
 then residing in a cottage occupied by my mother, 
 near Edinburgh. Keene was a good pedestrian, 
 and we roamed over the district, on one occasion 
 walking as far as Lauder, a distance of about 
 twenty-four miles I should guess. He would take 
 no refreshments by the way, and reproved me for 
 expressing a desire for bread and cheese and a glass 
 of ale. Shortly before this visit he had become a 
 zealous convert to the bagpipes, a set of which he 
 brought with him. I invited some artists with whom 
 I was acquainted (amongst others the late G. Paul 
 Chalmers) to meet him, and in the evening we all 
 went to the garden and engaged in the vulgar game 
 of pitch and toss. Keene threw his penny in a half- 
 hearted sort of way, and that done, resumed the 
 practice of his darling instrument. 
 
 " I think I see him now, a picturesque figure, 
 standing under an apple-tree with the drones over 
 his shoulder, whilst the group of gamblers kept 
 
126 
 
 glancing at him with smiling faces. The same 
 party, together with others (all Academicians), enter- 
 tained him to dinner in an Edinburgh hotel and paid 
 him every compliment, but not in their corporate 
 capacity. Once that Keene's ears were opened to 
 the wild beauty and grandeur of bagpipe music he 
 determined to study it thoroughly. Every spare 
 moment was devoted to the practice-chanter and 
 great Highland pipes, or Piob mhor, and I am afraid 
 the sudden and violent exercise to his lungs did not 
 improve his health. 
 
 " I noticed that a writer in a weekly newspaper 
 supposed that Keene had selected the bagpipes as 
 his instrument from the facility with which it can 
 be learned. There could not be a greater mistake. 
 The bagpipes (as Keene was well aware) is a most 
 difficult instrument to perform on properly. In the 
 olden time, when there was a bagpipe college in 
 Skye, the pupils required to spend seven years in 
 acquiring the fingering of the Piobaireachd ; and 
 this was the class of music with which Keene was 
 fascinated. He played a few marches, but reels 
 were caviare to him. I am afraid that his passion 
 for the bagpipes was the real reason of his being 
 obliged to leave his studio in Baker Street, as well 
 as the first he occupied in Chelsea. To economize 
 time he made a dumb chanter from the leg" of a 
 chair, and would practise his fingers on it when on 
 the top of an omnibus or when conversing with a 
 friend. Through me he bought bagpipes of all 
 sorts and sizes, and friends presented him with sets. 
 
Cljanrer 
 
 127 
 
 Mackay's and Macdonald's collections of pibrochs 
 he also bought. 
 
 " Keene came again to see me in 1871, when I 
 was residing in another cottage in the neighbourhood 
 of Edinburgh. I remember we walked into town 
 on the centenary of Sir Walter Scott, and met a 
 procession of circus performers, dressed to represent 
 the characters in the novels, a spectacle which made 
 Keene smile. There was no popular enthusiasm, 
 such as blazed out on the centenary of Burns. At 
 the end of the cottage in which I abode there was 
 a little lawn, bounded by a wood, and there Keene 
 would sit for half a summer day, dressed in knicker- 
 bockers and with head uncovered, playing the chan- 
 ter. Whilst so engaged he was often interrupted 
 by a little maiden named Alice, who handed him 
 imaginary tea in beech leaves or inverted mush- 
 rooms, at which he did not seem to be at all annoyed. 
 On the contrary, he would lay his chanter on the 
 music-stand and enter into the childish game with 
 the utmost gravity. ' A little more sugar, if you 
 please, Alice ; I have a sweet tooth. How very 
 refreshing a cup of tea is, to be sure,' etc. I admired 
 his good temper. 
 
 " On his third and last visit to me I remember 
 we went together to Hawthornden, and saw Roslin 
 Chapel and Castle, and made a trip to the house 
 of a friend in Aberdeen. W r e spent a day at Dun- 
 nottar Castle. From that time, which was early in 
 the seventies, until last year 1 I did not meet him. 
 
 1 1890. 
 
128 
 
 C|>arle0 l&eerte 
 
 On my return from a trip to Holland in June last I 
 happened to be in London, and took the opportunity 
 of going, along with a friend, to see him. He was 
 sitting in his library, with his feet swollen and resting 
 on a chair, and his face shockingly cadaverous — the 
 whole man the wreck and shadow of his former self. 
 He, however, insisted, our interview being over, on 
 showing us to the door, where he stood for a few 
 minutes waving his hand in what he evidently 
 thought was a last adieu, as it proved to be. 
 
 "Although Keene attained to eminence as a 
 humorous draughtsman, I do not think that humour 
 was his bent. By nature he was earnest and thought- 
 ful, and had fortune so directed he would have 
 excelled as a historical painter. But his abilities 
 were not limited to art. He would have made a 
 name in literature if he had practised it with the 
 same assiduity as he did drawing. He possessed 
 the faculty of taking infinite pains, of grudging no 
 labour, which is said to be the characteristic of 
 genius. He read a great deal considering the little 
 leisure at his disposal, and what he read he digested 
 and remembered. As a friend I always found him 
 eager to help me in my aims. For several little 
 books I had written he did what he could to promote 
 the circulation, and for the last effort of my pen he 
 made drawings, spending a fortnight of his precious 
 time in the work. In short, he did all he could to 
 put a square peg into a round hole. 
 
 "J. Sands. 
 
 " Walls, Shetland." 
 
129 
 
 The following extracts from a long letter to Mr. 
 Crawhall, commenced on January 8, but bearing the 
 postmark "March 3, 1876," will show the thorough- 
 ness with which he entered into the fascinating 
 study of that instrument which " sings i' the 
 nose ": — 
 
 " Have you made any additions to your ' Pea- 
 cock's' 1 collection and mastered the 'practice-stick' ? 2 
 I found out a jolly tune the other day that I've got 
 very fond of in Glen's 3 book, ' The Drover Boys.' I 
 fancy, from its harping so much on the common 
 chord of G, that it must be a Northumberland pipe 
 tune. If you would like a beautiful, sad, slow march 
 (funeral anthem for bagpipe), as grateful to the ear 
 as that 'Battle of Killiecrankie ' is savage, I will 
 
 This, no doubt, refers to the now practically unprocurable 
 collection of Northumbrian music known as Peacock's. A copy 
 of this Mr. Crawhall had made the nucleus of a further collection 
 of tunes in manuscript. Keene who, with Mr. Chappell and 
 other musicians, had it in hand some time, also made considerable 
 additions to it. 
 
 2 Of this Mr. Crawhall writes : " Glen, in his ' Complete Tutor 
 for the Great Highland Bagpipe,' tells us ' the practice-chanter 
 is what the learner commences with. It is more difficult to blow 
 than the bagpipes, from having no bag or reservoir to hold the 
 wind, but it serves to give the fingering of the instrument without 
 the loudness of the bagpipes, and is therefore better adapted for 
 playing in a room.' It is, in fact, an instrument of the nature of 
 a flageolet in form, and K. either made himself, or had made, a 
 dummy model of solid wood, the holes about a quarter of an 
 inch deep, which he carried in his pocket, in order to practise the 
 fingering of tunes when on the street or elsewhere." 
 
 " The Glens," says Sir George Grove, in the " Dictionary of 
 Music," "are now chiefly noted for their bagpipes, of which they 
 are the recognized best makers." 1879. 
 
 K 
 
130 
 
 Cljarleo l&eene 
 
 copy, and send you for the book, ' Lord Lovat's March. 
 It's charming. How I should like to hear it played ! 
 By-the-by, one of the most comical airs I ever 
 found is that ' Cow's Courant ' in your book. I can 
 hardly play it for laughing. There is one peculiarity 
 about our instrument, that one would rather hear it 
 played than perform oneself! at least I find it so. I 
 have just had the opportunity of getting a Breton 
 bagpipe (' Binion'). It is coming from Brest, made 
 by one of the best artists of the department. I fancy 
 it has only one drone. I have asked for a book of 
 the tunes they play, but am doubtful if they have 
 anything in that way." Here he breaks off for a few 
 lines to refer to some commonplace topic, but cannot 
 tear himself away for long from the fascinating sub- 
 ject. He goes on : "I suppose, now old R 's 
 
 gone, there's nobody to make Northumberland pipe 
 reeds. If you know of anybody I wish you would 
 let me know. I heard a beautiful player once in 
 
 London, a friend of old R 's from Newcastle, 
 
 but forget his name. He spoke of several gentlemen 
 pupils he had — a short, neatly-dressed, jolly-looking 
 little man ; I fancy I heard he was a shoemaker. I 
 heard from Glen lately that there was a prospect of 
 some old MS. pibrochs being published. I've lately 
 learnt two fine ones, ' The Massacre of Glencoe ' 
 and ' Macintosh's Lament.' Do you know them ? 
 They are in Mackay's collection." 
 
 On another occasion he wrote : " I want to send 
 you another 'wail,' the 'lament' of the great Mr. 
 C — — , the Beethoven of pipers. I came across it in 
 
Bagptpeg 
 
 131 
 
 that novel of Black's, ' The Maid of Sker,' and I 
 fancy I've read of its being forbidden to be played 
 
 SHEPHERD. 
 
 in some campaign, it made the Highlanders so 
 miserable." 
 
 In February, 1884, again : " I find since the den- 
 tist has been at my mouth that I cannot play the 
 
Cfjatleg J&wxt 
 
 great pipes comfortably with a stiff mouthpiece. 
 Some day this year I must go up to Edinburgh and 
 consult Glen. A piece of flexible tube on the mouth- 
 piece will put it right, I fancy." 
 
 These are but examples of what we shall find 
 scattered lavishly throughout the letters given later 
 on in extenso. As may be imagined, his knowledge 
 of the bagpipes led to Keene's being much appre- 
 ciated by the country people on his constant visits 
 to Scotland, and indeed it was mainly in the 
 "land o' cakes" that he found he could practice 
 uninterruptedly to his heart's content. As may be 
 imagined, in London this pursuit did not meet with 
 the appreciation he felt was its due, and there were 
 limits even to his braving of public opinion. 
 
 On January 15, 1877, he writes to Mr. Crawhall : 
 " I am afraid I am getting rusty with my big pipes 
 (though I work with the practice-stick), but I'm in 
 hopes of getting up to the Highlands this year, and 
 then I'll have a spell at them. I met an amateur 
 practising in Hyde Park the other night about 
 eleven o'clock. I wish I had the cheek to do that." 
 
 Hating as he did notoriety of every kind, it is 
 amusing to find, when his beloved pipes are in 
 question, how with an almost childish glee he writes 
 to Mr. Crawhall that his name has had the honour 
 to be connected publicly with them. " Ellis," 1 he 
 writes, "(translator of Helmholtz, etc., member of 
 the Dialectical Society, etc.) has been preparing a 
 paper for the Royal Society on the scale of the 
 1 Dr Alexander J. Ellis, B.A., F.R.S. 
 
Bagpipe TOal 
 
 133 
 
 bagpipe and other ancient eastern instruments. 1 
 He says he has brought in my name ! as having 
 assisted him ! " 
 
 Associated with Keene and Dr. Ellis in this 
 experiment was Mr. A. J. Hipkins, whose name 
 alone is sufficient guarantee for the value of any 
 investigations made into the peculiarities of ancient 
 and modern musical instruments. He has been 
 good enough to provide me with the interesting 
 quotation from the " Journal of the Society of 
 Arts" here referred to. It is somewhat technical, 
 and therefore I have thought best thrown into an 
 Appendix.^ 
 
 Of the occasion on which these instructive results 
 were obtained Mr. Hipkins writes : " The 5th of 
 August, 1884, I find, was the evening Keene and I 
 dined with Ellis and had the bagpipe trial. This 
 trial was made with a Scheibler tonometer of 
 tuning forks, comprised in an octave, and tuned 
 about four vibrations a second from each other. 
 The said tonometer is now at South Kensington, 
 in the Science Museum. If you will look in 
 Grove's ' Dictionary of Music and Musicians,' 
 vol. i., article ' Bagpipe,' written by the late Dr. 
 W. H. Stone, you will find a description of C. 
 Keene's Northumberland pipes, now in my pos- 
 
 1 " The bagpipe appears on a coin of Nero, who, according to 
 Suetonius, was himself a performer upon it. It is mentioned by 
 Procopius as the instrument of war of the Roman infantry." — 
 Grove's Dictionary of Music. 
 
 2 See Appendix C. 
 
134 
 
 djarles Beene 
 
 session. 1 C. Keene contributed to the Music Loan 
 Collection, comprised in the Inventions Exhibition 
 
 A VILLAGE HAMPDEN. 
 
 of 1885, the stockhoi'n (Lowland shepherd's pipe), 
 which is also now mine." 
 
 It was about this time that Keene discovered that 
 a godson "of mine has turned out a first-rate piper, 
 1 These were a dying present from Keene to his friend. 
 
^tamejse pipers? 
 
 135 
 
 and he skirled away the best part of the day 
 (Sunday, too, and thorough Scotch mother and 
 father !). I call him my pupil, but he found it out 
 for himself." This gave him, as may be imagined, 
 immense gratification. 
 
 The only further mention of this hobby of 
 Keene's, in this place, shall be the following ex- 
 tract from an undated letter to Mr. Crawhall. 
 
 " I've had a letter from an official of the Siamese 
 Legation! to the effect that H.A.H. the King of 
 Siam had bought two sets of bagpipes, and wanted 
 to know how his henchmen were to be taught ; that 
 they didn't know anything about them, etc., and 
 that little Glen had referred them to me ! and 
 whether I'd call ! This must have been a lark of 
 little Glen's! I'll tell you how I have settled it 
 after I've answered his letter!" 
 
 History, however, affords no account of any 
 denouement, but I am informed by Mr. Frederick 
 Verney, Secretary of the Siamese Legation, that 
 foundation for the preliminary statement as to the 
 purchase there certainly was. "A Siamese band," 
 he says, "of about a dozen musicians was sent to 
 England during the Health Exhibition, and per- 
 formed frequently in the Albert Hall and elsewhere 
 on their own native instruments. While here two 
 of them were taught by a sergeant-major in a 
 Highland regiment how to play the bagpipes, and 
 I am told they learnt to do so remarkably well. 
 The amusing part of it is that Siamese musicians 
 are accustomed to sitting down while playing, but 
 
136 Cfjarles l&ecne 
 
 the sergeant-major would not allow this, and he 
 cleared out a room in a neighbouring house and 
 insisted on his pupils marching round and round 
 while they were playing, the necessity for which 
 they could never understand, but which their in- 
 structor considered absolutely essential." 
 
 During these years Keene was a constant visitor 
 to " Tig," as he called the cottage at Witley. Here 
 he found the quiet which suited him. Added to 
 this, the society of the Birket Fosters at " The Hill," 
 with whom he was on the closest terms of intimacy, 
 was a source of unvarying delight. Here, also, 
 many other friends from time to time would become 
 near neighbours for the summer months, amongst 
 whom may be mentioned Mr. J. P. Heseltine, who 
 took a cottage near him in this year (1869), and 
 Mr. Mills in 1871, besides Mr. J. M. Stewart, who 
 became a resident there several years before his 
 death. The following letter will give some idea 
 of his zest for the amusements which the place 
 afforded. 
 
 To Edwin Edwards, Esq. 
 
 " Tigbourne Cottage, 
 
 " Witley. near Godalming, 
 
 "New Year's Day, 1869. 
 
 " Dear Master, 
 
 " I greet you and the mistress very heartily, 
 wishing you both many happy New Years, and I 
 hope you've had a jolly Christmas ; and in saying 
 this to you I mean, principally, fine weather for 
 painting. My joviality has been of a more vulgar 
 
137 
 
 character, for instance, the pleasant sensation of not 
 being very hard at work after several weeks of ' fag,' 
 the being in the country, not seeing any newspapers 
 and with no means of knowing what day of the week 
 it is, and therewithal the regular festivities of the 
 season carried on by my friends down here with an 
 old-fashioned vehemence that carries you away and 
 fatigues you very effectively. I got down here on 
 the Monday before Christmas Day, and kept quiet 
 and did a little work, and on Christmas Eve the 
 guests came in a body down by the afternoon train, 
 and we all dined at the Hill at six o'clock in the 
 big room. The fiddle and 'arp came at the same 
 time, and soon after dinner we set 'em to work, and 
 danced till about three in the morning, including 
 supper, which is a sine qua non at the Hill whatever 
 time you dine. I had heard from the chaplain of 
 the King Edward School that they were going to 
 sing 'noels ' on Christmas morning. The school- 
 master has coached up a quire from among the boys, 
 and I volunteered as a bass, so I was up again at 
 5.30, and we started at six to sing carols under our 
 friends' windows. Such a sluggard as I may be 
 allowed to boast of this feat. It was pitch dark, so 
 we had to read our parts by the light of our lanterns, 
 and it was very picturesque. The boys, wrapped 
 up in their bed-blankets, were in high spirits, and, 
 ye gods ! how they did sing ! I shan't forget the 
 sound of those sturdy young trebles in the still 
 morning in a hurry ; it was splendid ! Everybody 
 was delighted. It was said we were heard a mile 
 
'38 
 
 Cljacleg I&eene 
 
 off. We had lots of music at the Hill ; can't say 
 much for the vocal, though we did our best. Little 
 Walker with his flute, and Long Jones with his violin, 
 and another friend of Foster's with his tenor — it was 
 a perpetual 'consort of viols.' A general tuning 
 was very effective, and then Cooper used to come 
 out with 'apples, oranges, ginger-beer, bill of the 
 play ' — very excellent fooling ; and so it went 
 on — breakfast, lunch, dinner, dancing, supper, and 
 then dancing again ; a comic song between whiles, 
 followed by a violin concerto. Cooper was very 
 great. It was very funny one day ; when the three 
 instrumentalists were talking serious shop he took 
 up the violin and played very slowly and laboriously 
 and out of tune about half a page of the Kreutzer 
 Sonata. On the Saturday we all dressed in costume, 
 down to the children, and so to dinner and then 
 dancing again ; but now the fiddle and 'arp got the 
 best of us ; at twelve o'clock they looked at their 
 watches, pleaded religious scruples, and gave in ! 
 Then there was a comparative lull for a few days, 
 broken only by the fitful scrapings of Jones and 
 Walters in some remote apartment. We flared up 
 again last night, and hailed the New Year with the 
 usual ceremonies, and to-day all the guests have 
 departed, and I've come back to my hermitage here; 
 and now leap year is gone, and I'm a bachelor still. 
 By-the-by, the widow that chose me last New 
 Year's Day was here again, but she didn't renew her 
 offer ! . . . I had an ' invite ' to Gloucester Gardens 
 for last night, a small party to see in the New Year. 
 
139 
 
 When I was there the other day said she had 
 
 not been doing anything the last two or three 
 months, neither music nor painting nor anything 
 new! Isn't it a pity! I went to see Jemmy's 
 pictures the day before I came down. I tried to 
 persuade him to let drive at 'em. I don't believe 
 he'll finish 'em till he does, so I told him he may as 
 well do it now. I hope he will. Tell me what 
 you've done when you write. My housekeeper has 
 made me drink some elder wine ; couldn't refuse it, 
 wish I'd more moral courage; and the ' culsh ' has 
 made me feel sleepy and bilious, so I shall say good- 
 bye and turn into my hammock. You said you 
 should stay at Penberth all December. You may 
 have left now, so I shall enclose this to Heseltine 
 to send on, as I think I shall stay here till over 
 Sunday. 
 
 " ' Adichat.' 
 " Ever yours sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 1872—1874. 
 
 Photography and wood-blocks.— How a "Punch" picture is 
 produced.— Mr. Tenniel's practice.— " Formes."— " Overlays."— 
 Keene's inks.— Perplexities of his translators.— Mr. Swain. — King 
 James' sea-sickness.— KeeneV hatred of pedantry.— 11, Queen's 
 Road West.— Mr. F. Wilfrid Lawson. — An ordinary working day. 
 —Letter, October 3, 1873.— The Coquet.— Letter, November n, 
 1873.— Letter, December 19, 1873.— Chodowiecki.— Menzel.— 
 Letter, April 1874.— Letter, August 18, 1874.— Letter, circa 1874 
 • — The Stockhorn. 
 
 P to December, 1872, Keene had always 
 made his finished drawings on the 
 wood, but now a system was intro- 
 duced by which a drawing on paper, 
 of whatever size, could be transferred, without the 
 artist's aid, in facsimile on to a block of the required 
 dimensions. This result was brought about by 
 means of photography, and materially altered the 
 conditions under which much subsequent work in 
 black and white was done. This change had, as we 
 shall see, a curious effect upon the reproductions 
 in "Punch" of some of Keene's later drawings. 
 As in the case of most discoveries, the new 
 method was not at once universally employed ; and, 
 
141 
 
 although a large number of the "Punch" blocks 
 were immediately treated in this manner, it was not 
 until some years later that Keene ceased altogether 
 to make his drawings directly on to the wood. 
 
 A short account of the processes through which, 
 since this innovation, a drawing passes before it 
 appears in the pages of " Punch " may here be found 
 of some interest. 
 
 When a drawing on paper is received from the 
 artist, it is at once sent on to the photographer, 
 together with a wood-block of the necessary size, 
 the drawings being generally made larger than re- 
 quired for the printed pages. The photographer 
 then takes a negative of the drawing and prints it 
 on to the block, the surface of which is specially 
 prepared. These blocks are made in several pieces 
 bolted together. 
 
 The block, with the print of the drawing upon it, 
 is next sent on to the master engraver, who divides 
 it into its several sections, giving each piece to a 
 separate hand to cut. This is absolutely necessary, 
 so as to get the work done within the appointed time. 
 
 For example, Mr. Tenniel, who even now gene- 
 rally makes his drawings directly on to the block, 
 sends in his cartoon, as a rule, about eight o'clock 
 on Friday night. This block has to be unscrewed, 
 engraved, screwed together again, and then finished 
 off by the master engraver's own hand by nine 
 o'clock at the latest on Saturday night. This would 
 obviously be impossible without a division of labour. 
 
 The finished block is then handed over to the 
 
142 
 
 Charles X^eenej 
 
 printer, who takes four or five "pulls," or "proofs," 
 as the first impressions are called, for his " overlays," 
 which latter shall be described later on. The block 
 is then put into one of the "formes " with the type — 
 for pictures and letterpress are all printed at the 
 same time. These "formes" are two large iron 
 frames, called the "inner" and the "outer," each of 
 which takes eight pages of" Punch" type and wood- 
 cuts. They have to be ready to begin printing 
 from the very first thing on Monday morning ; other- 
 wise the required number for the week's issue would 
 not be in time for publication. 
 
 Now, as to the use of the "overlays." It is a 
 rough-and-ready method of bringing out the relative 
 " tones " of the different parts of the picture. From 
 one of the "proofs" the printer cuts away all the 
 light parts of the picture, from another he cuts away 
 all the half-tones, as well as the light parts, and 
 from a third he cuts away everything save the solid 
 blacks. 
 
 These " overlays " are then pasted one upon 
 another, and fixed on to that part of the cylinder of 
 the printing machine which, when revolving over the 
 "forme," falls immediately upon the block. By this 
 means greater pressure is brought to bear upon that 
 portion of the paper which is to receive the impres- 
 sion of the woodcut than upon that portion which 
 is to receive the impression of the type, and still 
 greater pressure upon that portion which is to receive 
 the darker than upon that portion which is to receive 
 the lighter parts of the picture. 
 
H3 
 
 Keene's drawings suffered more than most in their 
 reproduction. Manufacturing, as he did to a large 
 extent, his own inks of various shades, he was able 
 to obtain effects which no ingenuity could compass 
 in the uncompromising blackness of printers' ink. 
 To obtain anything approaching an adequate re- 
 production of the different values and atmospheric 
 effects, elaborate and costly processes would have 
 been necessary, altogether out of the question in a 
 weekly journal of the nature of " Punch." What, 
 however, was impossible there, has, without stint of 
 experiment or expense, been accomplished in these 
 pages, and for the first time the public, which is 
 unfamiliar with the original drawings, is enabled to 
 get an approximate notion of the unique beauty of 
 Keene's method. 
 
 In addition to his use of home-made inks, Keene 
 worked largely with small pieces of pointed wood 
 lashed on to penholders, manufactured in lieu of 
 pens by himself. With these he was able to put 
 exquisitely soft touches and obtain delicate shades 
 of expression, which were the despair of the most 
 finished wood-engravers. 
 
 Nor were these the only peculiarities that put 
 those who were to translate his work to perplexity. 
 About the surface upon which he worked he had 
 notions altogether his own. Very many delightful 
 effects were produced in the originals by means of 
 some peculiarity in the paper, of one particular 
 instance of which there will be more to say anon. 
 
 As Mr. Swain writes, " he had the stroneest 
 
144 
 
 aversion to drawing-paper or Bristol boards, pre- 
 ferring any scrap, even a half sheet of note-paper, 
 with a rough grain and coloured by age. He would 
 often put in a slight wash and then work over it 
 with ink or chalk, and sometimes pencil. In fact, it 
 was impossible for any one unacquainted with his 
 method to ascertain the means by which he obtained 
 these effects." 
 
 By the kindness of Mr. Buncle, of Arbroath, the 
 publisher of Mr. Sand's " King James's Wedding," 
 illustrated by Keene, and of which mention will be 
 made further on, I was enabled to see some of the 
 original drawings. For that of King James in the 
 throes of desperate sea-sickness, the artist had chosen 
 an ancient scrap of paper of the most telling greeny 
 yellowness of hue, which heightened in an extraordi- 
 nary manner the miserable look upon the monarch's 
 face, who — 
 
 " Looking glum and green, 
 Sits with a basin resting on his knee." 
 
 This adventitious effect is, of course, inevitably 
 missing in the reproduction. 
 
 " Draw a thing as you see it," was Keene's almost 
 invariable answer to questions as to method. Art 
 discussions of all sorts he tabooed, and laughed 
 at the distinctions between landscape and portrait 
 painters. " If a man can draw, he can draw any- 
 thing," he would say. Pressed one day on a walk 
 with other young artists as to how he would express 
 up-hill and down-hill in a picture, he took his stick, 
 and said, "If I want to draw up-hill, I draw it 
 
£Bueen'af l&oati me&t 
 
 145 
 
 like that," making a diagonal mark from bottom to 
 top on the ground, " and if I want down-hill, like 
 this," making a similar mark, only from top to 
 ^lothin^ would induce him to discuss 
 methods seriously. What he could do he could do 
 by means best known to himself, and nothing was to 
 be gained by argument. 
 
 Without being in the slightest degree self-suffi- 
 cient, he had a just and undemonstrative confidence 
 in the rules of procedure by which his method was 
 governed, and which he had evolved out of his own 
 experience. He cared not to listen to the pedantry 
 of others, and shrank from making what " The 
 Rambler" calls "an unseasonable ostentation of 
 learning" himself. That he carried this rule at 
 times too far, and was apt somewhat unfairly to look 
 upon legitimate interchange of opinions as neces- 
 sarily a display of coxcombry, cannot be denied, but 
 it was all part and parcel of the man's habitual 
 hatred of every kind of boastfulness, and his sus- 
 picion that discussion spelt display. 
 
 In 1873 we find Keene again changing his quar- 
 ters for 11, Queen's Road West, after nearly ten 
 years over Messrs. Elliott and Fry's, in Baker Street. 
 The new studio was part of a charming old house 
 now no longer standing, having been pulled down 
 some years later for the purpose of prolonging Tite 
 Street into Tedworth Square. 
 
 Soon after Keene removed there, Mr. F. Wilfrid 
 Lawson, the well-known artist, took the whole house, 
 Keene continuing to occupy two of the rooms. Here 
 
 L 
 
146 
 
 Cljarles l&eetu 
 
 he massed together that extraordinary miscellaneous 
 collection of properties the general effect of which 
 nobody who ever saw them is ever likely to forget — 
 old swords, iron Q-aumtlets, a full-sized headless barrel 
 of a wooden horse, and saddle for an equestrian sitter, 
 a wardrobe of female dresses of archaic and most 
 unbecoming patterns, coats and waistcoats of various 
 rustic types, drawing-boards, books, and countless 
 folios of prints collected ever since he was a boy, all 
 heaped together in bewildering confusion. 
 
 Of one of his ordinary working days Mr. Mills gives 
 me the folio wins: account: "He breakfasted about 
 nine o'clock, his meal consisting generally of porridge, 
 bacon (cooked to a cinder), fruit tart, and jam. He 
 then walked to his studio, regardless of weather, 
 never in the heaviest rain using an umbrella. When 
 his studio was in Baker Street he usually dined at 
 Pamphilon's, a restaurant near Oxford Circus. When 
 at Chelsea he was wont, there being presumably no 
 restaurant within reach, to cook his own dinner, 
 consisting (so far as meat was concerned) of a stew 
 concocted of beefsteak, potatoes, and onions, which 
 he would leave to simmer in an earthen pot over a 
 small gas-jet arrangement until about five o'clock 
 (he ate no lunch) ; he would ' set-to,' eating his meal 
 in a small kitchen near his room, and always reading 
 during his repast. He invariably wound up with 
 bread and jam. He drank nothing at dinner, but 
 made himself some coffee afterwards. There he 
 would remain until eleven or twelve, when he trudged 
 home. On Saturday nights he frequently, if not 
 
147 
 
 generally, dined at the Arts Club. On Sunday he 
 dined either at that club or with his old friend 
 Mr. J. P. Heseltine, of Queen's Gate, in either case 
 coming to my house about ten o'clock for an hour's 
 chat and smoke." 
 
 Such was Keene's everyday life, varied, as we 
 have seen, by frequent visits to "Tig," and an occa- 
 sional visit to his friends in Suffolk or the North. 
 
 From the former place he writes : — 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 1 
 
 " Tigbourne Cottage, 
 
 " Witley, Godalming, Surrey. 
 
 [October 3, 1873.] 
 
 "Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 "On my return to town from a short trip a 
 week or so ago I found your kind present of the 
 little book of verses, which I shall value very much, 
 and thank you very heartily for remembering me. 
 I was very busy in London preparing to run down 
 here for a few days to see the last of autumn, so put 
 off answering till now that I can do it in leisure and 
 in a congenial frame of mind. I've just been prac- 
 tising 'Wylam away' on my small pipes. I can 
 only do this in a very make-shift fashion, by con- 
 verting a small Scotch chanter into a Northumber- 
 land one by plugging up the end! as I'm waiting for 
 a reed I ordered half a year ago of old Reid of 
 North Shields, who is a very dilatory old boy, but a 
 picturesque though, and his wife Holbein would 
 
 With the commencement of his friendship, in 1872, with this 
 gentleman, I shall deal in the next chapter. 
 
148 
 
 Charles* l&eene 
 
 have liked to paint ! I send you a rough sketch for 
 your scrap-book. I have put by another of a fishing 
 subject for you, but could not lay my hand on it ; it 
 will turn up. 
 
 "Will you kindly transcribe for me the title-page, 
 date, etc., of Oswald's collection of tunes that you 
 recommended me to get, as I shall have a rummage 
 for it among the old music-book shops in town. 
 
 " I boasted to a friend of mine the other day — he 
 has a fine library of rare books — that I had a scarce 
 and curious modern work, and of which I believed 
 the British Museum did not possess a copy, and 
 excited his bibliomania about it to the utmost, and 
 produced your 'Book of Angling.' He acknow- 
 ledged my triumph ! 
 
 "Your friend Mr. Joseph Watson gave me a very 
 pretty book, ' Coquetdale Fishing Songs,' with a 
 very eloquent description of that river in the In- 
 troduction, demonstrating clearly what a charming 
 region it must be to the artist and sportsman. Birket 
 Foster and I have half promised ourselves to go 
 there on pilgrimage some clay, though I know it 
 takes the sojournings and explorations of years to 
 get such a love for a place as is evinced in this book 
 and in some of the songs in 'The Garlands.' I've 
 just been reading a very delightful book for the first 
 time, ' Wilson's Prehistoric Annals of Scotland.' Do 
 you know it ? That's an amusing story in it of 
 finding a prehistoric canoe at the bottom of a moss, 
 miles away from the sea, with a hole in the bottom 
 stopped with a cork! I should like to be a rich man, 
 
}9cacti'ce=Cl)anter 
 
 149 
 
 that I might buy a virgin barrow and open it ' to my 
 own cheek ' ! 
 
 " Apologizing for boring you with this babbling, 
 " I am, 
 
 "Yours very truly, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 "J. Crawhall, Esq." 
 
 The Coquet mentioned in this and many sub- 
 sequent letters is a very beautiful stream, rising in 
 the Cheviot Hills, Roxburghshire, and falling into 
 the sea opposite Coquet Island, off the coast of 
 Northumberland. 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " it, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 \_November ij, 1873.] 
 
 " Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 " I have been looking forward for an oppor- 
 tunity of leisure to answer your last kind letter, but 
 this is the busiest time of the year with me and an 
 anxious, which has hindered me. I thank you very 
 heartily for the vol. of ' Oswald,' which I received 
 this morning, and I shall prize it very much, and the 
 more as the gift of a fellow enthusiast. I find it 
 is not often met with here. I hope I shall persuade 
 you to get a practice-chanter 1 and ' go in ' for playing 
 these tunes ; you get the character more truly on the 
 
 1 The chanter is "the highest pipe of the bagpipes, from which 
 the ' chaunt ' or melody is produced, as opposed to the drones, 
 which each speak only to a single note." — Grove's Dictionary of 
 Music. 
 
Cljarles l&cene 
 
 chanter than on the flute, from the difference of the 
 gamut, and you have the great advantage of having 
 already twiddled on the flute, which, not having 
 done, was my drawback. On my side I'd some 
 facility in reading and knowledge of time, being 
 an old part-singer. Write to Messrs. Glen (344, 
 North Bank Street, Edinburgh) for one of their 
 ' best quality ' practice-chanters, with head and some 
 reeds. I transcribe from their card the prices : — 
 
 Practising Chanters, Ebony or Cocoa Wood. 
 
 1. Full-mounted Ivory or Electro Tip . . ?s. 6d. 
 
 2. Ditto German Silver do. . . 5s. 6d. (very good). 
 
 3. Second quality 4s. 6d. 
 
 4. Head . . . 4s. od. 
 
 Reeds, 6d. each. 
 
 And if you've mechanical fingers and like whittling 
 with a penknife, it's an additional pleasure to make 
 your own reeds. 
 
 " I know Johnson's S. M. Museum, 1 but you 
 seldom find an edition perfect. I also know that 
 Essex Harmony, and have a volume (which volume 
 have you got ?). If mine is not the same as yours, 
 I shall be so glad to send it to you (I think it's in 
 two vols.), as I have all the contents in Playford and 
 other books of catches ; used to practise them some 
 time ago with some other artists ; learnt a good 
 many, particularly those mentioned in Shakespeare, 
 ' Hold thy peace, thou knave,' 1 The wise men were 
 but seven,' etc., etc. Some of the epigrams were 
 
 1 "The Scots' Musical Museum," by James Johnson, 1787- 
 1803, reprinted 1839, 6 vols. 
 
(Blen'0 i^fpe 'Cuius 
 
 good. You know that one of the last century, 
 ' Have you read Sir John Hawkins' History, etc., 
 etc. ; Burney's History, Burney's History, Burney's 
 History pleases me'! But now-a-days few people 
 seem to care for these quaint old things, nor for the 
 old English madrigals, which are as fine as anything 
 in music — to my notions. If you go in for the chanter 
 you should get Glen's collection of pipe tunes ; these 
 have the regular grace notes, or ' curls ' as they are 
 called in the old pipe primers. I have fragments of 
 two of these, very curious ; one was evidently for the 
 stockenhorn ; it is in the form of a dialogue between 
 a traveller and a shepherd — very funny. These 
 grace notes make all the difference, and are indis- 
 pensable on the chanter, as you can't ' tongue ' as on 
 the flute, and they are very natural and easy. But 
 let me know if you fall in with my suggestion. You 
 can do it all by yourself, but there are one or two 
 wrinkles I can put you up to. Have you an old 
 song book (with the music) called, I think, the 
 Vocal Magazine? It has some rarish songs and 
 tunes in it, published in Edinburgh. Do you know 
 Sir John Hawkins' History of Music? I think it's 
 a delightful book, that is, the last 2/3rds, as all 
 that about the music of the Ancients is 'caviare.' 
 Whether he knew or cared about music I don't 
 know, but he writes merely as art antiquary, so 
 there's no confounded dilettante criticism. 
 
 " I thank you very much for your offer of the 
 chaplet of Coquetdale Songs, and as you knew him 
 too, I would say I should think Birket Foster would 
 
152 
 
 like a copy from you. I hope you won't mention 
 being indebted if I may have the pleasure of sending 
 you a rough sketch now and then, and 
 " I am, 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawkall, Esq. 
 
 " ii, Queen's Road, West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 ^December 19, 1873.] 
 
 " Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 " I finished my heavy work last night, and take 
 advantage of my enfranchisement to write you a 
 line. I hope you've made progress with the practice- 
 chanter. I dare say, being used to the flute, you 
 have found it awkward stopping with the second 
 joint of the fingers of the lower hand, but resolutely 
 get over this. I should find out a piper and have a 
 few initiatory lessons. Play slowly at first, and lift 
 the fingers high and bring 'em down like hammers — 
 this, I believe, is the antique style. When I began 
 I made a dummy bagpipe chanter (with large holes) ; 
 that I carried in my pocket and fingered on every 
 possible occasion, as I walked home at night, etc. ! 
 I have to thank you again for the loan of the books, 
 which I am packing up for you and will send off 
 to-day, but I would not practise the tunes from them, 
 but rather from the pipe books (Glen's, for instance), 
 as the latter has the grace notes marked ; and when 
 you have got hold of these, you can insert them 
 
#>ortljumberlanti ^uneg 
 
 153 
 
 yourself ad. lib. There are other pipe books I can 
 give you the titles of — Macdonald's Pibrochs and 
 McKay's ditto, etc., etc. Old Reid has at last sent 
 the pipes to my friend, and my reeds, so now I'm 
 going in for Northumberland tunes. The tunes I 
 chose from your book MS. (by conning out the air 
 to myself) are : ' Shew s the way to Wallington,' 
 ' Wylam away,' ' Blackett of Wylam,' ' My love :s 
 newly listed,' « The Black Cock o' Whickham,' ' Sir 
 J. Fenwick ' (two settings), ' Canny Newcassle,' 
 ' Stanhope o' Weardale,' ' My petticoat's louse,' ' Yar- 
 mouth Lasses,' 'A Stagshaw Banker,' ' Niel Gow's 
 Wife,' 'Over the Border,' ' Meggy's Foot,' 'Cuckold 
 come out' 'Buttered Peas,' . . . 'Cuddy clawed 
 her,' ' Brickland,' ' Black and the Grey,' ' Holme's 
 Fancy,' ' Bonny Pit Laddie,' ' All the night I lay 
 wi' Johnny,' 'Cut and dry Dolly,' 'O'er the dyke,' 
 'Bobby Shaftoe,' 'Newmarket Races,' 'Jackey Lay- 
 ton,' ' Hen's March' (this in the Scotch pipe books 
 called ' Brose and Butter'). . . . But I find I've 
 missed a bar here and there, so I hope to see that 
 edition of yours some day. What sort of a condition 
 were those big Northumberland pipes you saw at 
 Reid's for which he asked 30J. — very dirty ? That 
 set of Tommy Hair's are a ' caution ' for that matter. 
 Are the former as good as yours and the same sort ? 
 I'm thinking of getting Reid to send them up for 
 me to look at. I've been looking through 'Wood's 
 Songs of Scotland.' In the notes I see Oswald is 
 often quoted as an authority for a tune, though he 
 speaks of him as a ' noted impostor,' but the authority 
 
*54 
 
 Cfjarles l&ecne 
 
 he quotes mostly is ' Illustrations to Johnson's Musi- 
 cal Museum.' Is this the book you have ? I gave 
 Birket Foster the ' bookie ' you sent him, and he 
 asked me to give you his compliments and thanks ; 
 he was very pleased with it and the little blossoms 
 in illustration. I send you in the parcel the odd 
 volume of the Essex Harmony for your collection, 
 but I fancy it is not the same edition as yours, as 
 the etching is an interior, but it is quaint. As you 
 are a print collector, do you know Chodowiecki's 
 etchings ? — a 'little master' I admire very much. A 
 friend of mine, W. B. Scott, who was at Newcastle 
 some time ago, has a mania in that direction. He 
 lives near here in one of the most picturesque of the 
 old Chelsea houses, and I very often have a ' crack ' 
 with him over his prints. 
 
 " I've been reading a very interesting book lately, 
 'Words and Places,' by the Rev. Isaac Taylor. Do 
 you know it ? It is not an attractive title, but I 
 advise you to read it. I expect he's a learned fellow, 
 as I see in the papers he has lately made a discovery 
 about the ancient Etruscan language ! 
 
 " I wish you a happy Christmas, and more anon. 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 For the Russian painter and engraver, Daniel 
 Nicolas Chodowiecki, who died in 1801, Keene had 
 a great admiration, and made a collection of his book 
 illustrations. Writing to Mr. Crawhall on another 
 occasion, he says : " The last good thing I picked up 
 was an edition of 'Clarissa Harlowe' in French, in 
 
CfjoDotoiecfu 
 
 i55 
 
 ten vols., with two etchings of Chodowiecki's in each. 
 I feel terribly tempted to sacrifice the book and cut 
 'em out. Do you know this artist's works ? I con- 
 sider him the most extraordinary demon of industry 
 (and very excellent art of its sort) I ever knew of. 
 He has to be discovered. I'd bet that four British 
 R.A.'s out of seven would not know his name. I've 
 collected an infinitesimal pinch of his handiwork. 
 . . . Menzel, the great German artist who is being 
 ' discovered' now, is a follower in his track." 
 
 An account of Keene's "little master," by Austin 
 Dobson, is to be found in the July number of " The 
 Magazine of Art," 1885. 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 " 11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [March 5, 1874.] 
 
 " Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 " There was an advertisement in ' Notes and 
 Queries' that Messrs. Blackwood had a few copies 
 left of their edition of ' Johnson's Scots' Musical 
 Museum,' which I had seen quoted and referred to 
 in ' Wood's Songs of Scotland.' I got it, and have 
 been very interested in it. Do you know the book ? 
 I should like to send you the first and fourth volumes 
 to look at, as I think you would like to have it. The 
 last volume is entirely notes referring to every tune 
 in the book, and the first contains a list of all the 
 editions of Scotch tunes known. I should think 
 there would never be another edition, and so the 
 book will be rare. I have turned down the pages in 
 
i 5 6 
 
 Cljaclea l&eenc 
 
 several places for your attention. It's amusing how 
 these Scots claim all the tunes, won't even leave us 
 'Old King Cole'! (see notes). Have you a tune in 
 any of your books called ' Hey, bonny lass, will you 
 lie in a barrack ? ' There is a tune I like very 
 much in one of Glen's books (Miss Forbes's Fare- 
 well, I think). I find this is a modern composer, 
 according to the notes in the Museum, but I fancy 
 remembering an old friend who was deep in this sort 
 of lore telling me the original of the tune was this, 
 ' Hey, bonny lass,' etc. This air is mentioned in the 
 above book, but I don't think it is given. 
 
 " I'm curious to know how you get on with the 
 chanter, the more as I find you mention the tunes I 
 take to myself. The Glens promise a better setting 
 of ' Macpherson's Lament.' ' Bonny Strathmore' is 
 one of my tunes. Try the ' Piper's March.' A friend 
 of mine, an Irish artist, told me this tune was given 
 him by an Irish piper as ' Brian Boru's March,' but 
 I see on looking at your last letter you mention this 
 tune ; it comes well on the big pipes. I should like 
 to send you my miniature pipes to try how you like 
 them. They are in very good order, but you'll find 
 the chanter weak, and disposed to get sharp as you 
 play, and besides spoils your fingering for the larger 
 size. I picked up McGibbon's collection of tunes 
 the other day. It contains ' Jacky Laten ' (sic), and 
 I find this name in the Museum called 'Jack o' 
 Latin,' and there are a list of names of Border 
 tunes in this book (page turned down) that I don't 
 remember in Peacock. I was bidding at the sale 
 
i S 8 
 
 Ctjarles beetle 
 
 (when I bought MacGibbon's collection) for another 
 book, McGlashan's collection, but one of the London 
 booksellers (Pickering) told me he wanted it particu- 
 larly, so I dropped it. If I was an angler as well as 
 a musical maniac how I should bore you! My Irish 
 friend (who gave me the march) is a champion fly- 
 fisher, tells me he can kill a 3-pound (or £ of a 
 pound, I forget which) trout with a single woman's 
 hair. Is this a fact ? 1 He has often wanted me to 
 go to the mouth of the Thames in mid-winter and 
 lie on my belly in the marshes for hours before day- 
 break to shoot ducks ! I hope you've had good 
 sport with rod and creel this spring. 
 
 " My piper is coming to me soon, and I'll send 
 you one or two of his reeds ; they are the best I've 
 ever seen and used. 
 
 " That really is an exhaustive book on Scotch 
 music, and I think you would like it, if you don't 
 know it, and isn't dear — four vols. £2 js. 6d. 
 
 " Hoping I've not bored you, 
 " I am, 
 
 "Yours very truly, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 " 11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea, 
 
 " Sunday, 26th. 
 
 {April, 1874.] 
 
 " Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 " I meant to have inflicted you with a letter in 
 
 1 Keene was no sportsman, and his friend Hibernian. 
 
Bagptpeg 
 
 159 
 
 your holiday, but am afraid I've let the time pass. I 
 had a run into Surrey, but had to work in the day- 
 time, and the weather was so fine, was out a good 
 deal o' nights. The nightingale 1 was a day later. 
 On the 14th I heard him first ; his courier, the wry- 
 neck, was squeaking all over the country when I got 
 down. Do these latter birds come as far north as 
 you ? I hope you had a good time with rod and 
 creel. I showed that bit of gut you sent me (which 
 might have served for a first string for violoncello in 
 Oberon's band) to my Irish fly-fishing friend, and 
 think it made him uneasy for the rest of the day. 
 I'm so much obliged for the loan of your book, and 
 I've been copying away like mad at the new tunes, 
 and find them very quaint and amusing. I'm very 
 fond of the ' Bonnie Pit Laddie,' and the desperate 
 tenacity that its key-note is held on to. I found 
 another tune to-day, in which the composer ' lets go ' 
 of it and never catches it again ; and another one, 
 ' The Wearmouth Lads' — I think that's a perfect 
 study for octaves and nths! How jolly those 
 little bits of sea-songs are, ' The Weary Cutter ' 
 and ' Captain Bovey.' The finest sea-tune I know, 
 though, is ' Admiral Benbow,' see third vol. Chap- 
 pell's collection. I lent Chappell the copy from 
 which he took this ; picked it up at a stall in Lon- 
 don ; I've seen it in another old music-book since, 
 though. That's the worst of these literary men, 
 though — I never got my copy back ! Some of the 
 
 1 It became an understood thing that he should run down year 
 by year to the Birket Fosters to welcome the first nightingale. 
 
i6o 
 
 Cljatles l&eene 
 
 words of the song, though, are lost and badly re- 
 placed. I send you a pretty little piece of music 
 that we used to make my sister's children sing when 
 they were little, four tiny trebles in a row in unison. 
 Are your olive branches young ? Try it with them, 
 and if it does not give you a pleasant goose-fleshy 
 sensation and a lump in your throat ' it's a pity ' ! 
 Have you any fancy in the canine way ? I've had a 
 little German Dachshund bitch 1 given to me, very 
 well bred. You know the sort of dog, of course — 
 head and tail like a beagle, long body and short legs. 
 If she ever has a family, 'say the word'— quiet, 
 affectionate little animal, always sniffing about for 
 mice and such small deer ; I fancy just the com- 
 panion for an angler. She killed a tame pigeon of 
 ours though, this week, when our backs were turned. 
 That reminds me of a bulldog that a friend of mine 
 had that killed every cat he came across, but he had 
 been made to understand he was to spare the family 
 mouser, and my friend says he often sees Tiger 
 staring at her and the water running out of his 
 mouth ! I had a fit of extravagance this week — 
 received a catalogue from an Edinburgh bookseller 
 and bought ' Mackay's Pibrochs,' ' Kay's Etchings,' 
 ' Chambers' Domestic Annals,' and Campbell's (or 
 Cameron's) treatise on ' Highland Music, with Airs,' 
 etc. ; this last on spec. ; I don't know the book. I 
 
 1 This was the same dog of whose dead body he made his last 
 sketch in 1890. She had two sons, "Bismarck" and "Punch"; 
 the former was given to Mr. Dudley, the latter to Mr. Birket 
 Foster. 
 
(toat iBuffi Balls 
 
 161 
 
 was speaking the other day to a very old friend of 
 mine about the Coquet, and it came out that he 
 knew you — Captain Walter May. I knew him when 
 he was a midshipman, before he went to the North 
 Pole. He is a first-rate fellow, and an enthusiastic, 
 hard-working artist. I should like very much to 
 have that copy of Peacock. Kindly let me know 
 what they want for it, and I will send you the 
 4 argentum.' 
 
 "What do you think of the notes to the 'Scots' 
 Musical Museum ? ' As you as a fisherman are a 
 good deal in the woods and fields, are you a fungus 
 eater ? If not, begin with the Great Puff Ball. It 
 is the finest of all and quite safe, as. there's none 
 other like it. Cut it in slices about a third of 
 an inch thick, and fry with white of egg and bread 
 crumbs, or how you like. We find them here 
 about the end of May or June. I've learned about 
 a dozen sorts, and uncommonly good they are. 
 It's rather an interesting study, too, from the spice 
 of danger in it. 
 
 " May I present the copy of ' Chaplets from Co- 
 quetside ' you gave me (the extra one) to the library 
 of the Arts Club that I belong to ? I think it would 
 be fitly placed, as the members would appreciate its 
 artistic character. Hoping I've not bored you, 
 " I am, 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 m 
 
162 
 
 Cljarleg l&ztnt 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " ii, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [August 1 8, 1874.] 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 " I recollect threatening you with a letter some 
 time ago, as I was going into the country with 
 visions of leisure and idleness, of which, somehow, I 
 was disappointed and you were spared. My stay 
 was short, and I had to rush back to London and 
 turmoil. While there, however, I caught some trout 
 with a landing-net, assisted by a friend with a rod 
 {about a pound and a half each, and good eating). 
 There was a good-sized pond there by a farm house, 
 through the middle of which a stream ran. It was 
 full of small perch, and my friend persuaded the 
 farmer to let the water out for a day or two, and a 
 man at Guildford, addicted to pisciculture, put some 
 trout in in the summer of 1872, and this spring it 
 was full. There was about six feet room to throw 
 a fly (between trees !). I hear the late storm played 
 havoc with them, as there was plenty of mud at 
 the edge. 
 
 " I lent my Irish friend Doubleday's book de- 
 scribing the Coquet, and he made a descent there 
 this summer. I've hardly seen him since, so don't 
 know how he sped ; perhaps you came across 
 him. 
 
 " I thought you would like that sympathetic set- 
 ting of old Herrick's 'Grace for a little child'; the 
 tune is easy, and if you can wheedle some children 
 
31p0toi'cl) 
 
 163 
 
 to sing it you will like it more. Do any of your 
 youngsters sing in parts ? I should like to send 
 them a ' round ' from ' Pammelia ' that I affect very 
 much. Since I wrote I've been for a few days to 
 my native town, Ipswich, which I've hardly seen 
 since my school days, and sauntered about marking 
 the ravages that 4 the advancement of the age ' and 
 railways, etc., etc., had made in the old place, and, I 
 fancy, in rather an illiberal mood ! I hope your 
 music-book arrived safely ; I packed it very carefully. 
 I culled it very freely, and only left some Peacock 
 to keep my appetite for a copy. My piper is making 
 me some practice-reeds that I will send you. They 
 are so good that you will go to work with a will. 
 * McRory's Breeches' is a good tune. How do you 
 get on with the ' practice-stick ' ? I still find the 
 difficulties interesting to thumb the high H as a 
 demi-semi-quaver, and to rattle three or four grace 
 notes in no time at all ! I have just written to the 
 dealer in Pilgrim Street ; he wrote me about a guitar, 
 he thinks of the time of James! It's only the old 
 English guitar played in this century when the 
 Spanish guitar ousted it. I've a fine specimen with 
 a 9-peg head, dated 1 760. 
 " More anon. 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 " Many thanks for the illumination of the monks 
 of Coquetside ; it looks as if it was torn out of a 
 missal ! " 
 
164 
 
 Cljarleg l&eene 
 
 To Joseph Crazvkall, Esq. 
 
 " 11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 \Circa 1874.] 
 
 " Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 " I thank you very much for the loan of the 
 music-books. I suppose William Kell was a 
 piper ; almost all the tunes in his book are in 
 G or D. I wonder who Oswald was ; I fancy a 
 Cockney musician, and wrote a good many of 
 the ' favourite Scotch songs,' that seem to have 
 been the fashion in the latter half of the last 
 century ; but I must try and get his book ; it is a 
 curious collection. I should not have expected to 
 find one of Purcell's songs, and that one of his best, 
 ' What shall I do to show,' etc., amongst them. 
 There is an announcement, too, on the title-page, 
 ' Where only is to be sold the Harp of yEolus. 
 Those that have not the inventor's name on them 
 are counterfeits'! There was an upright yEolian 
 harp in the Exhibition at South Kensington looked 
 older than this. The best book of Scotch music 
 that I've got is that by Captain Simon Fraser, 18 16. 
 I don't think it is rare ; I daresay you have it. Of 
 course you have ' Bunting's Irish Melodies,' or know 
 these lovely compositions. I wish I was sure of 
 being able to play ' The Blackbird' on the Northum- 
 berland pipes before I die. If I was in Newcastle 
 I'd certainly have a 'haggle' with that broker for 
 
Bapipeg 
 
 165 
 
 those pipes, though I've got two or three sets ! — one 
 very pretty ivory set, a present from Alexander 
 Stevenson, of Tynemouth. I gave a set to a friend 
 of mine, a Scot in Edinburgh, nearly a year ago, but 
 sent them en route to old Reid to put some metal 
 reeds in the drones, and there they are stuck ! The 
 Scot is ' lashed into madness ' at intervals with im- 
 patience for them. If you should be near his shop 
 it's worth visiting. I like the old boy very much, so 
 don't scold him, but tell him I can't get on for want 
 of an easy-going chanter reed. He's always mending 
 those confounded umbrellas ; that's the worst of your 
 pluvious country. I often jog him up with a letter, 
 but he never answers. He has a set of Low-country 
 pipes of his father's make. I asked him if he would 
 part with them the last time I wrote. 
 
 " I have seen the Edinburgh Museum, and long 
 to see it again since I read Wilson's book, but I've 
 not seen that of York. Talking of Berwick, do you 
 know the country between there and Dunbar ? It 
 looks to me very enticing as I've seen it from the 
 G. N. Railway on my way north. A forest on a hill 
 and a stream at the foot for many miles on the sea 
 side of the railway — I should have thought a good 
 trout stream by the look and sound of it. I'm glad 
 to hear you have the antiquarian madness as well as 
 for music, as I have the dementia very strong myself, 
 and it reassures me in thus boring you with my 
 rigmarole. I picked up a Lowland shepherd's pipe, 
 a stockhorn I think it's called, the other day. The 
 only other one I've seen belongs to Drummond the 
 
Cljarleg X^eene 
 
 painter, of Edinburgh. Do you know him ? When 
 you are there you should see his sketches (for the 
 last thirty years) he has made of the old closes of the 
 town, a wonderful collection beautifully done. The 
 city ought to secure this, and not let it be snapped 
 up by some American ultimately. I am a practical 
 antiquary in one way. Being anything but a ' Good 
 Templar ' in the matter of tobacco, I always smoke 
 antient tobacco-pipes, of which I've a good many, 
 enough to last my life, and to give away to any who 
 will use them, of small capacity but large bore. 
 Have you any of them ? — generally with a device on 
 the heel. Unfortunately as I use them I break 
 them sometimes. I had one that was fished out of 
 the well of Dunottar Castle, evidently left by some 
 of Cromwell's men when he garrisoned it. The best 
 were made at Amesbury, in Wiltshire, with this mark. 1 
 I've two of these. I believe the clay pipe was 
 invented and first made in Great Britain. You've 
 drawn your quern thus — that's upside down, isn't it ? 
 I suppose they ground the grain with a stone in the 
 hollow, and the flour dropped through the hole in the 
 centre. 
 
 "J. D. Watson, the painter, told me the other 
 day he met a gentleman in Wales who had a collec- 
 tion of Welsh MSS. of the tenth century!!! I think 
 he said (that's modest for Wales). One was an 
 essay, or something of that sort, on music, with 
 drawings, and amongst these some bagpipes ! I 
 won't believe it till I see it. He said he would 
 
 1 A hand. 
 
Collecting 167 
 
 write for some tracings. But I won't bore you any- 
 more. I hope you'll excuse all this, and 
 " Believe me, 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 AN OUTSIDE CAR. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AS HUMOURIST. 
 
 Exhibition at Fine Art Society, 1891. — A revelation.— Not a 
 great humourist.— A great artist.— Comparison with Rowlandson, 
 etc. — As raconteur. — Quaintness. — Mr. Birket Foster. — A good 
 listener.— Mr. Robert Dudley.— Dancing in black gloves.— As 
 an actor. — His humour good-humoured. — One exception. — The 
 Clergy.— Good stories.— Story of two curates.— Story of British 
 farmer. — Story of Aberdonian.— Story of Mr. Oscar Wilde and 
 Mr. Whistler.— Story of well-brought up child.— Earthworm joke. 
 —Captain Robley, 91st Highlanders.— Appeal for subjects.— Story 
 of Archdeacon Bouverie.— Mr. Farrar Ran son's story.— Mr. Stacey 
 Marks' portrait by Keene in " Punch."— Story of Scotchman and 
 asparagus.— Story of bereaved husband.— Story of "spirits for- 
 ward." — The schoolboy's suggestion.— Mr. Henry Silver.— Mr. 
 Andrew Tuer. — Value of original drawings. — Keene's carelessness. 
 —A misunderstanding. — Correspondence thereon.— A Bargain. — 
 Fine quality of friendship.— Editorial risks.— A "Chestnut."— 
 "The Family Herald." — Correspondence thereon. — An editorial 
 shift.—" Cause and Effect."— Mr. Joseph Crawhall.— Keene's in- 
 debtedness to him.— Description of his surroundings.— A generous 
 controversy.— The " Albums."— Mr. Crawhall's portrait in " Punch." 
 —Acknowledgments of help.— A revolver as wedding present.— 
 Mr. Crawhall's father.— The printer's devil.—" Editorial sapience." 
 " Comminatory."— " 'Andicapped."— Keene's humour. 
 
 ENTION has been made in the last 
 chapter of the commencement of 
 Keene's friendship with Mr. Joseph 
 Crawhall. The remarkable nature of 
 what may be properly called their collaboration sub- 
 
$18 ^umottcfct 
 
 169 
 
 sequently in the pages of " Punch," never before 
 publicly recognized, renders this a fitting place to 
 consider the claims of Charles Keene to be regarded 
 as a humourist. 
 
 There can be little doubt that the majority of 
 persons who visited the exhibition of his works at 
 the galleries of the Fine Art Society in 1891, a few 
 months after his death, found more enjoyment in the 
 perusal of the legends attached to the drawings than 
 in the drawings themselves. That was probably 
 owing to the fact that C. K.'s name was, from cir- 
 cumstances, so inseparably connected with " Punch," 
 that the public went with the intention of being 
 amused by a "funny" man, not with the expecta- 
 tion of being delighted by the masterpieces of the 
 greatest artist in black and white that England has 
 ever produced. 
 
 To those who then first saw the original drawings, 
 and knew what drawing meant, the exhibition was a 
 revelation. To those who carefully considered the 
 " legends " and only incidentally glanced at their 
 pictorial illustration — and these were the majority — 
 it seemed but a troublesome way of looking at back 
 numbers of " Punch." These latter came away with 
 the conviction that C. K. was really a very funny 
 man, but they would have been terribly indignant 
 had they realized in how large a proportion of cases 
 he was merely the illustrator of letterpress not his 
 own. They would have considered him little short 
 of an impostor had they known that he was the 
 systematic purveyor of other people's jokes. 
 
Cfjarleg Ikum 
 
 It cannot be doubted that, from the particulars 
 which are about to appear, Keene's reputation as an 
 original humourist will suffer. On the other hand, 
 
 The finished picture appeared in "Punch" with the following legend: — 
 More " Revenge for the Union." 
 SAXON Tourist {at Irish Railway Station) : " What time does the 
 half-past eleven train start, Paddy ? " 
 
 PORTER. " At thrutty minutes to twilve — sharrup, sor ! " 
 
 [ Tourist retires up discomfited. 
 
 his extraordinary powers as an illustrator will for the 
 first time meet with due appreciation. He was the 
 
30 ^umottrijst 
 
 171 
 
 last person in the world to set himself up as a comic 
 man, and certainly he was the last person in the 
 world to wish that credit should be given him in his 
 biography for qualities which he did not possess. 
 Indeed we shall find him later on evincing consider- 
 able distress lest his chief collaborator should fail to 
 receive the credit due for his share in the business. 
 Not that it is to be understood that Keene was 
 lacking in humorous perception of the most delicate 
 kind, and indeed was an original humourist of no 
 mean quality, but, I believe, it will more and more 
 appear that he cannot be ranked amongst the great 
 original humourists of the world. To parody what 
 Lowell said of Pope, " Measured by any high stan- 
 dard of humour he will be found wanting ; tried by 
 any test of art he is unrivalled ! " 
 
 But, when we say that Keene was not one of the 
 great humourists of the world, we must be careful to 
 hold to the received definition of humour as " that 
 quality of the imagination which gives to ideas a 
 wild or fantastic turn, and tends to excite laughter or 
 mirth by ludicrous images or representations." In 
 this sense, in which Rowlandson,Gillray,Cruickshank, 
 and Leech were humourists, C. K. was not; but in 
 the sense in which Shakespeare and Thackeray, 
 Balsac and Cervantes were humourists — that is, in 
 seizing upon Nature truthfully and without exaggera- 
 tion when she was in a humorous mood, he ranks 
 with the greatest. In other words, his is pure 
 comedy without a touch of buffoonery. Indeed, 
 where he attempts to be farcical he almost invariably 
 
172 
 
 Ctjarleg l&eene 
 
 fails. Nature made Keene an artist, circumstances 
 a humorous one. 
 
 In the first place to deal with his humour apart 
 from his art. 
 
 Although at times he could tell a story passably 
 well, it can hardly be claimed for him that he was a 
 raconteur of anything approaching the first water. 
 Indeed his friends are almost unanimous in declaring 
 that his narrations were too long drawn out, and that 
 as often as not he would stop abruptly ere ever the 
 point was reached. Not that his stories ever failed 
 in their primary object of adding to the gaiety of the 
 occasion and raising a laugh, for he had a peculiar 
 way of drawing up the under eyelid, as a bird does 
 the white film from below, which was quite sui 
 generis, and quite irresistibly funny. It was as 
 though the grand climax of the story had been 
 reached, which was frequently far from the case, but 
 the signal was good enough in itself, and rarely 
 failed to bring down the house. 
 
 There was, too, a certain grave humour in him, as 
 Mr. Aldis Wright expresses it to me, that rendered 
 him greatly attractive to such men as Edward Fitz- 
 gerald — and we must remember that Fitzgerald was 
 a man who appreciated the majesty of simplicity far 
 above what Pope calls " the quaintness of wit." 
 
 Keene was never the man to keep a table in a 
 roar, but he possessed a certain nice fancifulness of 
 diction agreeable to those who possessed an exact 
 taste. Referring to this quality, Mr. Birket Foster, 
 writing of his visits to Witley, says : "He used to 
 
Storyteller 
 
 173 
 
 tell us stories at night as no one but he could tell 
 them." To which may be added a sentence from 
 a letter from Mr. Robert Dudley : " He was a 
 man whose very peculiarities were of so simple and 
 quaint a character as to render it very difficult to 
 convey, in words only, the pith of many a charac- 
 teristic ' bit.' " 
 
 I also find the following entry in Mr. Edwin 
 Edwards' diary for February 28, 1863, at the very 
 beginning of an acquaintance which was destined 
 to ripen into the closest friendship : " C. Keene 
 seems full of pleasant fun and humour. Tells a 
 story well." 
 
 The fact was he was a shy man and destitute 
 of the pushing quality essential to the professed 
 story-teller, and it was only when he found himself 
 with some of " our sort," as he would call those who 
 were congenial, that he was able in any way to do 
 himself justice. As a rule, indeed, he was a much 
 better listener than talker. Good-humoured and 
 genial as he almost invariably was — a cheerful man 
 rather than a gay, as the " Spectator " says in a 
 sympathetic article — he always evinced a genuine 
 and generous appreciation for the humour of others, 
 never failing to apprehend the most delicate shade 
 or gradation of fancy. Indeed, so difficult does he 
 find it to realize that others do not see the humorous 
 side of things as he does, that, tolerant as he is of 
 most human failings, he complains with an almost 
 laughable vehemence in one of his letters of what 
 he considers to be the density and stupidity of one 
 
174 
 
 Cfjarles %zz\u 
 
 of his employers, who writes asking him to explain 
 a joke. " I have written," he says, " explaining the 
 situation with sarcastic elaboration." 
 
 In this connection I cannot do better than insert 
 another interesting note, supplied to me by his friend 
 Mr. Robert Dudley. 
 
 " This quick sense of humour was strongly tinged 
 with a peculiarly quaint simplicity of character. 
 Perhaps this simplicity preserved to him to the last 
 the breezy freshness of humorous perception. To 
 say that C. K. was 'unconventional' would be only 
 half descriptive of his character. He was uncon- 
 sciously unconventional, not intentionally so, and 
 always seemed to me to be exceedingly surprised 
 when by any chance he found he was not exactly in 
 the groove cut out by the general track, sometimes 
 amusingly so. To give an instance (one amongst 
 many that would occur to those who knew him 
 intimately) : he once, talking to my wife, told her his 
 reason for wearing black kid gloves when dancing 
 (he was in younger days very fond of dancing — 
 ' such a splendid exercise of the muscles '). ' I 
 always wear black kid gloves because they don't 
 show the soiling and last much longer ; much more 
 economical, you know.' ' Well, but,' said my wife, 
 ' you ought to consider also the ladies' dresses. I 
 am afraid your black gloves occasionally leave their 
 traces on delicate materials.' ' Good gracious,' he said, 
 ' I never thought of that.' The comic side of the 
 subject, I need not say, presented itself to him, and 
 found vent in a ' Punch ' ' bit ' of a back view of a 
 
SAMPSON LOW, MARS TON S.C° LTD 
 
 HF.L10G aiMPLEMERClER&Ci'PARlS 
 
CljaraD exacting; 
 
 i75 
 
 young lady whose dress had been so marked with 
 the black hand of a warm partner. But he gave up 
 the black kids for the future. 
 
 " Keene's sense of humour was largely appreciative, 
 but its expression was almost wholly artistic (techni- 
 cally artistic, I mean). No amount of hard drilling 
 would have made him even a tolerable amateur actor. 
 Of course with his quickness and brightness of per- 
 ception he could fully seize any humorous point; 
 and, more than that, he was indeed particularly 
 open to strong emotional sympathies of a serious 
 character. I have known him, not ^infrequently, to 
 be genuinely moved to tears by a dramatic repre- 
 sentation, although a public theatre possessed so 
 little attraction for him that his presence there was 
 a very rare event. He told me once that he scarcely 
 ever went to a theatre. 
 
 "At the house of a mutual friend in London — a 
 large New Year's Eve party— I once persuaded 
 Keene to take part in a rather carefully-prepared 
 charade, at the time believing that his peculiar 
 humour would appear in some dry comic develop- 
 ment, but, instead of being one of the providers, he 
 immediately became one of the recipients of the 
 humour, and quite led the laughter of 'the house,' 
 excusing himself afterwards for having entirely 
 dropped his 'character' by saying, 'You see, I was 
 occupied in observing the piece, and got interested 
 in the plot ; hope it didn't make much difference.' " 
 
 One thing, however, was particularly noticeable 
 about his conversation, as well as about his work. 
 
176 
 
 Cljacles l&eene 
 
 He was never unkindly in his fun. His humour was 
 essentially good-humoured. He never fell into the 
 habit of raising a laugh at the expense of individuals. 
 It was this quality, probably, which prevented him 
 from ever making his mark as a political cartoonist. 
 Indeed, the marvellous facility with which he could 
 catch a likeness charged with a fleeting expression, 
 would have made him facile princeps in that class of 
 work. 
 
 Nobody enjoyed more than he did having a laugh 
 at the weaknesses, the foibles, the littlenesses which 
 were peculiar to classes of persons. His drunken 
 elder of the kirk, his stuck-up slavey, his sancti- 
 monious parson, his snobbish parvenu, his sham 
 sentimentalist, his brutal cabman, each was a type, 
 and as a type he held him up to ridicule with 
 exquisite enjoyment of his discomfiture. But he 
 found little or no pleasure in the gibbeting of an 
 enemy, the fleering or flouting at a fellow-creature. 
 It was this consideration for the individual that made 
 him write to Mr. Crawhall that he was about to do 
 a subject of his, that of a newly-dubbed knight's 
 wife, whose elevation " wouldn't make no difference 
 in her manners," but that he was afraid of hurting 
 the feelings of a certain person who was likely to 
 take it as personal ; " so," he continues, " I shall save 
 the story for the new electorate, and utilize it in the 
 case of some working man M.P. (Radical)." 
 
 One exception to this rule, however, will occur to 
 those who knew Keene in his earlier " Punch" days, 
 For some . reason or other, probably not owing to 
 
Katfjec Spiteful 
 
 177 
 
 any definite disagreement, but rather because the 
 natures of the two men were generally antagonistic, 
 he had a strong objection to one of his former col- 
 leagues, and for some time whenever he wished to 
 portray a singularly silly or pompous individual, 
 the "Punch" figure would bear a strong family 
 likeness, to say the least, to this natty and precise 
 gentleman. 
 
 Even with the classes at which he poked his fun he 
 was mostly very tender and kindly. Perhaps, indeed, 
 the only order of persons to whom he ever showed 
 anything approaching spitefulness were clergymen of 
 the Church of England. Upon them it cannot, I 
 think, be denied he was unduly severe, and, indeed, on 
 more than one occasion went out of his way to raise 
 an unkind and unfair laugh at their expense. As 
 an example may be mentioned the picture entitled 
 4t Nemesis" in " Punch" for July 31, 1880, in which 
 a clergyman with a rubicund nose is represented as 
 bringing to his wife, who is nursing a young baby, a 
 feeding-bottle. " No, William," she says, " I will 
 not have him brought up on the ' bottle ' ! Look at 
 your own nose, dear!" And the animus is the 
 more apparent when we find that in the original 
 suggestion, provided by Mr. Crawhall, the husband 
 is represented as a layman. But when we have said 
 this we have, I believe, said all. And of what other in 
 the whole range of satiric art can it be maintained 
 that he never, with perhaps the one exception given 
 above, wilfully raised an unkind laugh at the expense 
 of an individual, and that his worst malignity was 
 
 N 
 
i;8 
 
 Cljarles l&eene 
 
 the treatment, with some undue harshness, of a class 
 which is surely strong enough in the consciousness of 
 its general integrity to withstand many a harder 
 buffet ? 
 
 Always delighted with a story with a neat point 
 to it, his letters teem with the formula " I heard a 
 good story to-day." For example: "Said a High 
 Church and athletic curate to Low Church ditto r 
 'Wonderful things Grace does!' 'Ah,' said the 
 latter (surprised at the serious observation from his 
 volatile friend), ' Terue, my friend, terue.' First 
 Curate : ' Only fancy, y'know, ninety-two and not 
 out ! ! ' " 
 
 And again, " Got a story to-day of a British farmer 
 on board a steamer, suffering a good deal from the 
 rolling, saying to a friend, ' This capt'n don't under- 
 stand his business. Dang it, why don't he keep in 
 the furrows ? ' " 
 
 And again, " A story last night of an Aberdonian r 
 making a morning call, was asked if he would tak' a 
 dram. He soberly declined ; ' 'twas too airly the day; 
 besides, he'd had a gill a' ready ! ' " 
 
 And again, " They say Oscar has cut his hair 
 since he was turned off. On the morning of his 
 wedding he received a telegram from Whistler, 
 ' Sorry . will . not . be . at . the . ceremony . don't .. 
 wait. 
 
 And again, " I heard a good story of a (well- 
 brought-up) child, who was seen to secretly purloin 
 and pocket an orange from the laid-out dinner- 
 table, but was seen afterwards to enter the empty 
 
^upplp of £>itb/ect# 
 
 179 
 
 room and secretly again return it to the dish, and 
 exclaim triumphantly, "Sold again, Satan ! ' " 
 
 In common with all "Punch" artists, jokes to 
 illustrate were sent to him from all quarters, jokes 
 usable and jokes unusable. Writing to Mrs. 
 Edwards, he says, " A friend sends me a joke for 
 ' Punch.' Scene : Churchyard with gravestone of 
 angler. Two earthworms coming up. First earth- 
 worm : ' Delicious flavour, this old angler.' Second 
 worm : ' Ah ! he killed thousands of us in his 
 day ! but we're taking it out of him now ! ! ' I'm 
 afraid it won't do ! " 
 
 On December 20, 1873, he writes to Mr. Mac- 
 donald : " These drawings in ' Punch' you see marked 
 R, are from sketches sent me by a very obliging corre- 
 spondent, a Captain Robley, in the 91st Highlanders ; 
 he sketches very well, and sends me lots of sugges- 
 tions, and, as he naturally likes to see his name to 
 some of them (that don't touch Government up too 
 much), I'm glad to make him that acknowledgment. 
 You see a mess-table makes a very good ' preserve ' 
 for ' Punch ' subjects. I don't follow his drawings 
 very much, but they are very useful in military sub- 
 jects, as it gives me the regulation number of 
 buttons, etc. I shall try and get a holiday in Mid- 
 summer. If I go north next year, I want to see the 
 long northern nights. 
 
 "All those stories you sent me are capital. ..." 
 
 At times, however, the supply would run short, 
 and he would send an appeal ad misericordiam. 
 " Leech is out of town," he writes, in July, 1864, to 
 
i8o 
 
 his friend Edwin Edwards, " and the ' Punch ' people 
 are very exigent. Try and think of a subject for 
 me ! 
 
 We shall also find him in his letters, quoted else- 
 where in extenso, making further appeals for sugges- 
 tions. 
 
 Mr. Aldis Wright writes: "I once, in 1 88 1 or 
 1882, went with them (Edward Fitzgerald and 
 Charles Keene), to stay for a day or two with 
 George Crabbe, in Norfolk, at Merton Rectory, and, 
 while there, I told him the story which I had heard 
 from Archdeacon Groome, of the visit of Arch- 
 deacon Bouverie to a parish in which part of the 
 churchyard was cultivated as a wheat-field. Keene 
 afterwards put this into ' Punch.' " 
 
 One or two other individual instances may here be 
 mentioned before giving an account of the regular 
 systematic supplies which are hinted at above. The 
 subject for the cut on November 28, 1885, page 262, 
 was supplied to him by Mr. Farrar Ranson, the late 
 Mayor of Norwich. That on August 3, 1889, page 
 5 r, entitled " Marry come up," represents an incident 
 that was given to him by, and actually happened to, 
 Mr. Stacy Marks, in the Zoological, although Keene, 
 for some reason, chose to lay the venue in the 
 Botanical, Gardens. This picture is also interesting 
 as containing a portrait sketch of the Royal Acade- 
 mician. The original now hangs — a valued posses- 
 sion — in Mr. Marks' house. 
 
 The story of the canny Scotchman who had never 
 seen asparagus before, and began eating the white 
 
ends, and, when remonstrated with by his friend, 
 replied, " Ye dinna ken, I prefurr it ! " was sent to 
 him by Mr. Clayton's daughter-in-law. 
 
 Many a good subject, too, was supplied to him by 
 his old and valued friend, Mr. Edwin Edwards. In 
 fact, there were very few of Keene's friends, and 
 they were legion, who did not cherish, and no doubt 
 improve upon, any quaint passing experience or 
 telling anecdote, for the stimulating of his marvellous 
 pencil. 
 
 Mr. Dudley, dealing with this subject, writes to 
 me: "It would be almost unnecessary to say that 
 Keene's special work brought him constantly sug- 
 gestive 'bits,' — some facts, others fancies, from friends 
 and from unknown correspondents. Many of these 
 prompted some of the admirable and charming 
 pictures of life, now, alas ! no longer seen with the 
 old familiar signature Frequently, no doubt, 
 
 these suggestions were never carried out. I do not 
 know whether Keene kept any sort of note-book of 
 such for the purpose of jotting down any he thought 
 sufficiently suited to his purpose. If he did so, the 
 collection should be an interesting one — perhaps some- 
 thing of the kind may be now in your possession. He 
 would often mention these communications. One he 
 told us, many years ago, was not, I think, used by him 
 for the reason I will note, but it is possible that he 
 adapted it in some way, although I do not remember 
 having seen it in shape. To give it in Keene's way : 
 
 " ' MORNING OF FUNERAL. 
 
 " 'Bereaved Htisband {taking aside Sympathetic 
 
& (Brim Jo fee 
 
 183 
 
 Undertaker). Oh, Mr. , I see you have put me 
 
 in the first carriage. 
 
 " ' S. Und. Certainly, sir ; the special relationship 
 to the deceased, etc. 
 
 "'B.Hus. Yes, yes — of course ; but — ah — I see 
 you have placed Mrs. Jones (mother-in-law) in the 
 first carriage also. 
 
 " ' Und. Yes, sir ; you see the personal relation- 
 ship to the deceased, etc. 
 
 ii( B. Hus. Ah! just so. Well, can't I go in one 
 -of the other carriages ? 
 
 " ' 5*. Und. Why, of course, sir, if such is your 
 ■decision ; but if I might remark, it would be very 
 irregular — you see, sir, personal relationship, etc. 
 
 " ' B. Hus. Ah ! well, if the arrangement can- 
 not conveniently be altered, it must stand as you 
 have it ; but there ! it will completely spoil my 
 day ! ' 
 
 " Keene's reason for not putting it into shape, he 
 told me at the time, was that Mark Lemon (the then 
 editor of ' Punch ') thought it would be considered 
 
 rather too hard upon the mothers-in-law ! K 
 
 ■did not mention whether the original 'suggestion' 
 was given as a ' fact' or a 1 fancy.' 
 
 "Another may have been worked into shape, but 
 I am not sure : — 
 
 " ' Lady, entering large and crowded universal 
 .establishment (say in Westbourne Grove), quietly, to 
 .obsequious Shop Walker. Oh — I — where should I 
 go to give an order for some cognac ? 
 
 " ' Shop Walker. Cognac brandy, madam ; cer- 
 
Cljarleg T&tmz 
 
 tainly, madam. {Then in stentorian tones, and 
 waving his hand on high) — Spirits ! forward ! ' " 
 
 One poor boy, who gave a suggestion which 
 immediately passed away from Keene's memory, was 
 made the victim of a very heartless joke. Some 
 little time after the story had been told him, Keene 
 received a letter from the youth thanking him in the 
 most extravagant terms for generosity which he did 
 " not in the least expect and was very far from 
 deserving." Keene was naturally amazed, as the 
 suggestion had been forgotten almost as soon as 
 made, and he had certainly had no communication 
 whatever with its author. A little later, however, the 
 matter becomes intelligible, and he writes : " That 
 
 R mystery is cleared up. He writes to explain 
 
 that he told a friend the joke he had given me for 
 ' Punch ' (which I had forgotten all about), and, as 
 it did not appear, his friend wrote him a letter, as if 
 from the ' Punch' office, expressing regret, etc., and 
 enclosing him a five-pound note on some extinct 
 bank ! We have seen how completely he was taken 
 in. I've written to him recommending him to punch 
 his friend's head the first opportunity ! " 
 
 The part which Mr. Henry Silver played as a 
 quickener of C. K.'s ready pen in the early years of 
 his "Punch" connection is dealt with elsewhere. 
 
 It now becomes necessary to treat more particu- 
 larly of the systematic supply of subjects by two of 
 his oldest and most intimate friends, Mr. Joseph 
 Crawhall and Mr. Andrew Tuer, that of the former 
 extending continuously over the last fifteen or sixteen 
 
years of his " Punch " career, and that of the latter, 
 more or less uninterruptedly, over the last twenty. 
 
 I shall deal with the latter first, as being in one 
 remarkable particular, at least, a less complete method 
 of suggestion than that of Mr. Crawhall. 
 
 Some twenty years ago Mr. Tuer started a metho- 
 dical system of acquiring subjects, stories, and quaint 
 bits for illustration by his friend in " Punch," under- 
 standing from Keene that in return for these hints 
 and suggestions he should receive the original draw- 
 ings or studies as they were done with. This course 
 was pursued over a period of several years, Mr. Tuer, 
 who was a great admirer of his friend's art, not 
 hesitating to accept drawings which, as far as he 
 then knew, had no particular market value. 
 
 After a time, however, Keene began to be aware 
 that these productions were not things to be 
 scattered broadcast, and were likely eventually to 
 prove, as indeed they have done, of considerable 
 pecuniary value. 
 
 Hitherto his carelessness about them had beeri 
 extraordinary. These precious works of art used to 
 lie about higgledy-piggledy in the general confusion 
 of his studio, to be had by any chance visitor who 
 chose to ask for them, when of a sudden it flashed 
 upon him that he might with equal wisdom litter the 
 place with uncounted bank-notes. 
 
 Evidently unconscious of any definite under- 
 standing with Mr. Tuer, he failed in the early part 
 of 1884 to send an original sketch to his friend as 
 heretofore had been his custom. In February of 
 
i86 
 
 Cljarleg Recite 
 
 that year Mr. Tuer wrote to ask him for it, believing, 
 as he did, that the practice was the outcome of an 
 exact arrangement. 
 
 On the 15th of February, to his great distress — 
 for he at once feared that Keene must have con- 
 sidered him grasping and extortionate — he received 
 the following letter : — 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Fed. 14, 1884.] 
 
 " Dear Tuer, 
 
 " Let us have an understanding. These original 
 drawings are my poor ' stock-in-trade ' — my capital — 
 my copyrights, etc. Do you wish to purchase this 
 sketch as a matter of business ? If you want a 
 replica of this in particular I'll make one and give it 
 you with pleasure in this case, but I can't undertake 
 to do it always. I bought a relic of old Bewick at 
 the sale — John's walking-stick that T. B. always 
 used after his brother's death. The books went at 
 an inordinate price. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To this Mr. Tuer replied as follows : — 
 
 " 20, Notting Hill Square, W. 
 
 [Fed. 15, 1884.] 
 
 " Your letter was a shock indeed, my dear Keene, 
 but I am glad it was written. Your good opinion 
 is worth more to me than all the drawings you ever 
 did put together, and it's a sad thing that this 
 miserable misunderstanding should have been going 
 
SL ^teurtfjecgtanturtB; 
 
 on for years. I always understood — how I got it 
 into my stupid old head I do not know — that you 
 considered an original contribution that you could 
 accept for 1 Punch ' as a quid pro quo for your original 
 sketch. I don't think that I was even aware at first 
 that you ever disposed of your drawings. I simply 
 felt proud to possess your drawings of my little 
 jokes. On looking over the sketches that I have, I 
 find that I supplied matter for all except three — 
 one you gave me, one you gave my wife, and the 
 other I took as a matter of business. ' Let us have 
 an understanding,' you say, and I earnestly say 
 Amen to that ; so do, please put me right, for I am 
 all at sea and dispirited. I am not dispirited about 
 getting no more sketches. I would return what I 
 have, but I know you would bundle them back by 
 next post. 
 
 " Very faithfully yours, 
 
 "And. W. Tuer." 
 
 To this Keene replied : — 
 
 "239, King's Road, Chelsea. 
 
 [Feb. 16, 1884.] 
 
 " Dear Tuer, 
 
 " I was sure I had only to tell you of this 
 present little embarrassment (there has been none 
 between us hitherto, believe me) to make it clear to 
 you. I have given away no end of these drawings, 
 and shall do, I daresay, and would like to give them 
 all, but, in fact, I have sold a great many to friends, 
 and this is the most imperative reason for my looking 
 at them as of any value ; besides, I have never insured 
 
188 
 
 Cljarleg J&mn 
 
 my life, as I ought to have done, and have been 
 brought to take heed of them on this account ; so I 
 hope you won't think me greedy or selfish in speak- 
 ing out to you on the matter openly. I have not 
 got back the drawing of the Groom and the Doctor 
 yet. You ought to see them before you take them, 
 and I'll forward them to you if you like, and I ask 
 five guineas each if you take them, and am, 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 Thus ended a correspondence which, seeing that 
 the intercourse of these two was never for a moment 
 strained thereby, shows the fine quality of a friend- 
 ship which lasted uninterruptedly until the artist's 
 death. 
 
 From that time five pounds was the recognized 
 price of the drawings, although Keene continued to 
 send from time to time sketches and " inchoate 
 scraps," as he called them, as contributions to his 
 friend's commonplace books. What Shakespeare 
 makes Hotspur say might well have come from 
 C. K.'s lips : — ■ 
 
 " I'll give thrice so much land 
 To any well-deserving friend ; 
 But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, 
 I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair." 
 
 In the latter part of this year an incident occurred 
 which will be interesting as illustrating the pitfalls 
 into which the providers of original jokes run the 
 risk at times of falling, and the editorial shifts to 
 which recourse must sometimes be had. 
 
a "Cljegtnut" 
 
 189 
 
 On November 24, 1884, Mr. Tuer wrote : — 
 
 " 20, Notting Hill Square, W. 
 
 " Dear Keene, 
 
 " Here is a double-barrelled one for you ! See 
 
 over. 
 
 "V. truly yours, 
 
 " And. W. Tuer." 
 Double Picture. 
 
 Host instructing Gardener, 
 who is called upon to wait 
 table at a Dinner-party. 
 
 Dinner-party. — John goes 
 round with two decanters. 
 
 'Common sherry or inferior 
 claret, sir ?' " 
 
 " 'Now, John, you quite under- 
 stand ; there will be best sherry 
 and best claret at dessert, and 
 common sherry and inferior 
 claret at dinner.' 
 
 The story had been told to Mr. Tuer by a friend, 
 whom he had rigorously cross-examined as to its 
 originality, and who assured him that "the circum- 
 stance had happened to one of his own acquaint- 
 ances." On December 4th, and before Keene had 
 acknowledged receipt of the joke, Mr. Tuer's atten- 
 tion was drawn to the following paragraph in the 
 current number of the " Family Herald." His feel- 
 ings of consternation and dismay may better be 
 imagined than described : — 
 
 "'They did not very often give dinner-parties,' 
 says a sporting contemporary, ' and never gave 
 large ones, but at the little rezmions to which they 
 did invite their friends they liked everything of the 
 best. So, on the afternoon of one of their choice 
 
190 
 
 Ctjarleg l&eene 
 
 little feasts, the host summoned his boy in buttons, 
 and said : " Now, John, you must be very careful 
 how you hand round the wine." " Yes, sir." " These 
 bottles with the black seal are the best, and these 
 with the red seal the inferior sherry. The best 
 sherry is for after dinner ; the inferior sherry you 
 will hand round with the hock, after the soup. 
 You understand — hock and the inferior sherry after 
 soup ? " " Yes, sir, perfectly," said the boy in buttons. 
 And the evening came and the guests came, and 
 everything was progressing admirably till the boy 
 went round the table asking of every guest, " Hock 
 or inferior sherry ?" Everybody took hock.' " 
 
 Here was a joke that he had put Keene to the 
 trouble of illustrating, and it turned out to be a 
 "chestnut." However, there was nothing left but 
 to make a clean breast of the matter, and to rank 
 himself with Pope's creations, who — 
 
 " Own stale nonsense which they ne'er invent." 
 
 He accordingly wrote : — 
 
 " 20, Notting Hill Square, W. 
 
 [4 Dec, 1884.] 
 
 " Dear Keene, 
 
 " To my annoyance and consternation that 
 double-shotted picture anecdote — or, rather, some- 
 thing like it — about ' common sherry or inferior 
 claret,' appears in this week's ' Family Herald,' but 
 where the deuce they managed to pick it up I have 
 not the ghost of an idea. 
 
 " V. truly yours, 
 
 " And. W. Tuer." 
 
Sin (Editorial S^afcesljiTt 
 
 191 
 
 In the meantime Keene had written, delighted 
 with the situation, and saying that a subject had been 
 made of the suggestion. 
 
 Mr. Tuer thereupon wrote as follows : — 
 
 " 20, Notting Hill Square, W. 
 
 [5 December, 1884.] 
 
 " Dear Keene, 
 
 " Our letters must have crossed. Not knowing 
 what course you will now pursue in regard to the 
 double picture — ' Common sherry or inferior claret, 
 sir ? ' — I only wish to say that should it be with- 
 drawn I will, of course, still purchase the sketch. 
 There is one thing to be said, and that is, that the 
 story as given in the 'Family Herald' is not, to my 
 mind, by any means so good as that sent to you by 
 
 " Yours ffly, 
 
 " And. W. Tuer." 
 
 However, the drawings were too good to be 
 wasted, and on January 24, 1885, they appeared 
 with the following "legends": — 
 
 "Cause 
 
 AND 
 
 Effect. 
 
 " Host (to Coachman, who is 
 turned on as Butler on grand 
 occasions). I want you to see 
 that all my guests enjoy them- 
 selves, Coggledab. Don't let 
 them have to ask for anything. 
 Be particularly attentive to my 
 dear aunt, Mrs. Dumbledock. 
 
 Coggledab (in a stage whisper, 
 during a lull in the conversation, 
 to Mrs. Dumbledock, who has 
 recently joined the Blue Ribbon 
 Army). 'Ollands, whiskey, or 
 cog-nack, mum ? You can't be 
 'nj'yin' of yourself. You're not 
 drinkin' .' 
 
 [Mrs. Dumbledock alters her 
 Will the next day.~\ " 
 
192 
 
 Cljacles l&eene 
 
 Having thus dealt with the collaboration of Keene 
 and Mr. Tuer, we now come to the far more elaborate 
 association of Keene with his most intimate friend, 
 Mr. Joseph Crawhall, whose name is familiar to all 
 those who interest themselves in old songs and 
 ballads, and whose masterpieces of quaint humour in 
 " The Compleatest Angling Book," " Chap-book 
 Chaplets," etc., etc., have met with such wide appre- 
 ciation. 
 
 With Mr. Crawhall, Keene, as will appear else- 
 where from the correspondence, was on terms of the 
 fullest intimacy, and had a variety of tastes in 
 common. Their friendship was known by the artist's 
 relations to have existed for many years, but it will 
 be news to most to learn to what extent the pages 
 of " Punch," which are embellished by the pen of 
 C. K., are indebted to the keen wit and sympathetic 
 assistance of the author of " Border Notes and 
 Mixty-Maxty." 
 
 Prior to making Charles Keene's acquaintance, 
 Mr. Crawhall, ever a great lover of things quaint, 
 grotesque, and jocular, had been in the habit of 
 jotting down any telling incident he might hear 
 of or observe, illustrating it at leisure in colours 
 for his own amusement. This he had done for 
 many years, little guessing what honour and pub- 
 licity was reserved for these rough drawings in the 
 future. 
 
 As good fortune would have it, about the year 
 1872 a Mr. Henry Shield, a mutual friend of Keene 
 and Mr. Crawhall, saw these drawings, and at once 
 
31ooeplj Cratofjall 
 
 193 
 
 realized to what excellent use C. K. could, if he 
 were given the opportunity, put them. Mr. Crawhall 
 gladly acceded to the proposal that an introduction 
 should be brought about for this purpose, and — 
 Keene being in Newcastle at the time — that friend- 
 ship then commenced which, to say the least of it, 
 was to prove the greatest possible boon to his bio- 
 grapher. Wanting it, it is doubtful if we should ever 
 have known Charles Keene as a letter-writer in any 
 measure out of the common. 
 
 The following account of Mr. Crawhall's sur- 
 roundings, from a letter written by Keene to Mr. 
 Stewart in 1877, will be of interest : — 
 
 " You'd have liked his house, crammed full of 
 curios, and of the best. On his walls the rarest 
 prints and etchings, etc. — and he knows all about 
 them, too — a few pictures and drawings, several oil 
 pictures of Blacklock's, and no end of books, armour, 
 arms, and any amount of Pots and Plates of his own 
 painting. The china he goes in for is almost exclu- 
 sively English, especially Bow and Chelsea. This 
 is my fancy. I did not see a bit of blue. . . . Craw- 
 hall has a lot of autograph letters. He generally 
 frames one along with the portrait. ... C. is a 
 great smoker, and gets up every morning at four, 
 comes down and has a pipe and does an hour's work 
 (painting), and then goes to bed again ! and enjoys 
 his breakfast with the rest at the usual time (this is 
 original, I think)." 
 
 Keene was delighted with Mr. Crawhall's quaint 
 collection of original pictures, and the latter, as time 
 
 o 
 
A "SUGGESTION" BY MR. CRAWHALL FOR A " PUNCH " SUBJECT. 
 See opposite—" A Modern Athenian." 
 
From " Punch" November 10, 1877. 
 A Modern Athenian. 
 
 Southern Tourist {in Edinburgh) : " Can you direct me to the 
 Royal Institution ? ' 
 
 Native {vacant stare) : " What est ? " 
 
 Tourist {giving a clue) : " Pictures, you know — statues — and " 
 
 Native {after much thought): "Oo— et's the stukky feggars ye 
 niean ! " — {pointing)- -" Yon ; s et ! " 
 
196 
 
 Cljarles l&eene 
 
 went on, placed them freely and unreservedly 1 at 
 his disposal, without expectation of, or indeed desire 
 for, any return or recompense. This, however, was 
 not Keene's view of the matter. He was not one to 
 take without giving, and he gracefully "rewarded'' 
 (I use Mr. Crawhall's own expression) his friend by 
 presenting him with a series of sketches, which it 
 must, I think, be the great pride of Mr. Crawhall's 
 life to possess. Indeed to such an extent did C. K. 
 carry this system of " reward " that after a time his 
 friend began to be embarrassed, and told him that 
 if he insisted upon continuing this too generous 
 practice there would be a risk of their falling out, 
 " for," said Mr. Crawhall, " you don't know the value 
 of your work. The reward is too great, and our 
 happy connection must cease if you put me under 
 these obligations." 
 
 The custom thus ceased, but Keene would rarely 
 miss an opportunity of sending a sketch when there 
 was any plausible ground for doing so, generally 
 accompanying it with some shame -faced excuse. 
 For example, writing on August 8, 1883, he says: 
 " I send you a sketch for your gallery. You must 
 bear with me and accord me this pleasure and 
 privilege, especially as I make such free use of the 
 albums." 
 
 The generous nature of this contest sufficiently 
 speaks for itself, but I cannot refrain from adding 
 
 1 This was in 1877, for we find him writing to Stewart in 
 October of that year: "I've heard from Crawhall. He says I 
 may have any sketches out of those books of his I like." 
 
Collaboration 
 
 197 
 
 the following charming extract from a letter bearing 
 the postmark July 10, 1880 : — 
 
 " I want you to do me a great favour, to let me 
 give up • Ahasuerus.' 1 I can't tell you how strongly 
 I have felt your rare generosity and unselfishness in 
 letting me browse so freely in your pastures. Con- 
 sider how much I've been beholden to you already. 
 , . . If we consider it seriously it won't do for it 
 to come out in your book after it has appeared 
 in ' Punch.' ... It's a capital subject (I'm certain 
 you evolved it from your own humorous conscious- 
 ness), and you ought to have the benefit of it 
 ' fresh,' so make me comfortable by a line that you 
 agree." 
 
 The number of these suggestions culled from the 
 albums was certainly not less than two hundred and 
 fifty, and may have been considerably greater, but 
 no complete record has been kept. Through the 
 kindness of Mr. Crawhall, however, I am enabled to 
 give a list of more than two hundred, which will, 
 I think, prove interesting to those who have leisure 
 to study C. K.'s " Punch" work. 2 
 
 The first outcome of this delightful partnership 
 was a charming instance of one of the "great un- 
 paid " committing himself instead of the prisoner. 
 " Prisoner," he says, "you're discharged for this time 
 with a caution, but, if we see you here again, you'll 
 get twice as much ! ! " This appeared under the 
 heading "A Narrow Escape," on September 6, 1873. 
 
 1 The picture was finished and ready at any time to be sent in. 
 
 2 See Appendix B. 
 
198 
 
 C&arletf l&eene 
 
 The last was called "At the Zoo," and will be found 
 in " Punch" for April 5, 1890. 
 
 Only once during these seventeen years did Mr % 
 Crawhall's portrait appear. This was on March 11, 
 1882, in the cut entitled "Lapsus Linguae." 1 In it 
 Keene has represented his friend as the " Pater." 
 
 For the first year or two of their intimacy the col- 
 laboration would seem to have been only occasional, 
 but towards the end of 1876 we find a letter which 
 would appear to have been the immediate forerunner 
 of what, in the middle of 1877, developed into a 
 systematic co-operation. " Dear Mr. Crawhall," it 
 runs, " many thanks for the loan of the sketch-books. 
 I enjoyed them again and again with renewed chuck- 
 lings, but what a mouth-watering larder to lay open 
 to a ravenous joke-seeker ! Mayn't I have one for 
 'Punch'? If I don't have a prohibitory postcard 
 (which I hope you won't hesitate to send me if 
 you've the slightest objection), I can't choose but 
 make free ! " 
 
 A few quotations here from Keene's subsequent 
 letters, referring to the obligations he felt himself 
 under to his fellow-labourer will not be out of place. 
 He was almost morbidly afraid lest more credit 
 should be given him ultimately by the public than 
 was his due. He was the last person in the world 
 to subscribe to " those grand laws of the universe," 
 as expounded by George Eliot's Euphorion in "The 
 Wasp Credited with Honey," 2 " in the light of which 
 Mine and Thine disappear and are resolved into 
 1 opposite. 2 "Impressions of Theophrastus Such."- 
 
From "Punch? March u, 1882. 
 Lapsus Linguae. 
 
 Pater. " Now, look here, my boy ; I can't have these late hours. 
 When I was your age my father wouldn't let me stay out after dark." 
 
 Filius. " Humph ! Nice sort o' father you must have had, I 
 should say." 
 
 Pater {waxing). " Deuced sight better than you have, you 
 young " 
 
 \Checks himself, and exit 
 
200 
 
 Charles Jkunt 
 
 Everybody's or Nobody's, and one man's particular 
 obligations to another melt untraceably into the 
 obligations of the earth to the solar system in 
 general." 
 
 Writing on July 24, 1880, he says: "I wish I 
 could manifest the obligations I am under to you in 
 the help you've so generously afforded me in ' Punch.' 
 . . . Let us draw up a form of ' affidavy ' on my part 
 to insert in your 'Albums.'" 
 
 On March 27 of the same year he had written : 
 " I want to draw up a solemn ' affidavy ' to insert in 
 your book of ' Quips.' It ought to be in Latin 
 (canine), ' Cognoscite omnes homines his pr&sentibus! 
 etc., to the effect that ' Punch' and I are indebted to 
 you for these originals, so that posterity may not 
 make a mistake. ... In the last book I think you 
 have surpassed yourself, but some that I liked best 
 I'm afraid they wouldn't have. That's a screamer 
 of the tradesman recommending his revolver as a 
 bridal present." 
 
 Again, in August, 1885: "Don't think I've con- 
 fiscated the Albums. I may make a final cull for 
 next 'Almanack,' and then return them with a formal 
 affidavit of my obligation to them." 
 
 And again, on August 6, 1887: "I've done that 
 little incident you suggested of the couple who went 
 for a day in the country, when Joan got a little 
 ruffled at Darby's leaving her to take the tickets. 
 They'll spoil it in the engraving, but you shall have 
 the drawing. It's scaring to think what I should 
 have done without the Albums. I had marked down 
 
"9&em0. for tlje Scoots" 201 
 
 a lot to save for the Almanack, but alas ! I'm draw- 
 ing upon this capital." 
 
 These may stand as fair examples of the acknow- 
 ledgments of personal indebtedness which he was 
 constantly making to his friend. Others will be 
 found in the correspondence. 
 
 Whilst on the subject of the sources from which 
 C. K. drew his inspirations, it will be interesting to 
 note that the ideas for his two last sporting pictures 
 were taken from an extremely rare book, written and 
 illustrated in lithography by Mr. Crawhall's father in 
 1827. The book was called "Grouse Shooting- 
 made Quite Easy to Every Capacity, by Geoffrey 
 Gorcock." The " Punch " pictures were headed 
 " Mems. for the Moors," and appeared respectively 
 on September 7 and September 21, 1889. Mr. 
 Crawhall, senior, besides being a great sportsman, 
 was clever both with pen and pencil, and had learned 
 the art of lithography from Alois Senefelder, the 
 inventor of that method. 
 
 And here another note may be made for the use 
 of those who value their " Punches," and above all 
 the C. K. cuts in them. It is only a wonder that 
 the following prototype of the philological incident of 
 1886 — of which we shall treat anon — did not bring- a 
 hornet's nest about the ears of the Fleet Street staff. 
 
 On November 8, 1879, appeared a cut headed 
 " Volumes," with this legend attached : — 
 
 "Amateur Composer. Heard my new song? 
 
 u Candid Friend {with a perceptible shudder). Oh 
 Lor ! I hope so ! ! " 
 
202 
 
 Cfjarleg l&eerte 
 
 The word "last" before "new sons*-" had been 
 omitted, and the whole point of the thing was lost. 
 
 This, of course, was only a printer's error, but 
 there were other occasions upon which Keene had 
 bitterly to complain of the way in which his legends 
 were deliberately cut about, and their epigrammatic 
 poignancy lost. 
 
 This "editorial sapience," as he called it, made 
 him very indignant. His own misfortunes of the 
 kind he bore philosophically enough, but there is a 
 sceva indignatio in some of his letters when dealing 
 with the outrages perpetrated upon the work of his 
 collaborator which we are not prepared for. 
 
 He must, indeed, have felt deeply the mangling of 
 his friend's keen wit to bring his kindly pen to write 
 with such bitter sarcasm. 
 
 In "Punch's Almanack for 1880" (published 
 December 12, 1879) there is a grand picture bearing 
 the title " Comminatory." The legend runs : — 
 
 " Scotch Field Preacher. Ah see ye ahint the 
 stanes there, laddies ! Smocken — E — h ! But ye may 
 smock — an' ye may smock " {crescendo) " an' ye may 
 smock, but ye'll smock gey an' sairer whaur y're 
 gaun tae." 
 
 Now, "gey an' sairer" is not Scotch. A Scotch- 
 man will say, "My head's gey sair" — i.e., "very 
 sore" — or, "my head's gey sairer than yours"; but 
 to say " gey an' sairer " is to say " very and sorer," 
 which is nonsense. 
 
 The original words of the preacher had run — "Ah 
 twig ye ahint the stanes there, laddies — smockin — 
 
dfti (tonal Sapience 
 
 203 
 
 but ye may smock — an' ye may smock — an' ye may 
 smock — but ye'll smock faur sairer whaur ye're 
 gaun tae." 
 
 On this subject Keene wrote to Mr. Crawhall on 
 December 15th : "When I saw the Almanack I was 
 in a great rage that they had altered your legend 
 in the drawing of the Scotch preacher, and wrote 
 instanter to the sapient editor. I enclose copy. I'll 
 never forgive him." 
 
 This was when Tom Taylor still reigned at 85, 
 Fleet Street. It was a perilous thing to tamper with 
 the work of so conscientious a labourer as C. K., 
 unless there was full knowledge to prompt the cor- 
 rection. 
 
 The periodical providers of jokes and good stories 
 must needs have good memories. There is always 
 the risk attaching to subjects obtained as original 
 from outside sources that they may turn out to be 
 " chestnuts." Happily for Keene his mind retained 
 a point once he had heard it. An example may 
 be quoted. Writing on July 5, 1886, to Mr. Craw- 
 hall, he says : " Your story (how history repeats 
 itself!) of the twins, and the youngster's asking which 
 his father means to keep, is a great antiquity (Leech 
 did it in ' Punch' years ago), in spite of which I often 
 have had stray suggestions of it ever since." 
 
 Of course it must be distinctly understood that it 
 was only a certain proportion of Keene's subjects 
 that were not of his own invention. A large number, 
 no doubt, were the outcome of his own observation 
 and experience. " Here's a subject," he writes to 
 
204 
 
 Cljarleg l&eene 
 
 Mr. Crawhall on September 29, 1888 — "Here's a 
 subject I've just done, thought it ' out of my own 
 head':— 
 
 " 'Andicapped. — Jail Bird {having just picked 
 landlord 's pocket). Amerikin watch ! Shabby old 
 'umbug ; and 'im a man o' property, too ! Ugh ! 
 What 'ith downright fraud like this 'ere an' co-ercion 
 an' what not, a poor man ha'n't got a chance ! " 
 
 But that his imagination in this direction was not 
 extraordinarily fertile is, I think, evident. Once, 
 however, his sense of humour was set in motion — 
 once his mind seized upon a conceit or a fancy, his 
 quick artistic sympathy came into play, and his 
 imagination knew instinctively its essential, pictorial 
 requirements. In a word, his imagination was of the 
 very highest order, but it was graphic, not literary. 
 
 To sum up, then, Keene's humour was the humour 
 of observation rather than the humour of invention. 
 An acute observer of Nature, an eager spectator of 
 the passing expressions and moods of his fellow- 
 creatures, an impressionist of the finest quality, given 
 a subject which he could fully appreciate, and he 
 would picture it with an unerring certainty, an un- 
 compromising realism. 
 
 "Our People" is not a mere picture-book. 
 Opening its pages is like opening a series of windows 
 and finding Nature herself informed and animated by 
 her best spirit of unexaggerated fun. Where Keene 
 attempted to be more humorous than his mistress — 
 and this was always against the grain — he signally 
 failed. In no sense could he rival the antics and 
 
&0 l^umourigt 
 
 205 
 
 extravagances of Rowlandson, Gillray, and Cruik- 
 shank. 
 
 " An hideous figure of their foes they drew, 
 
 Nor lines, nor look's, nor shades, nor colours true, 
 
 And this grotesque design expos'd to public view." 
 
 Of him it may be said he drew his inspiration 
 from Nature, and was content not to "improve" 
 upon what she chose to manifest to him. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 1874— 1878. 
 
 Trip abroad. — Letter, Christmas Day, 1874. — His love of ani- 
 mals. — The Royston Crow. — A surgical operation.— The cacoethes 
 colligendi. — Flint implements. — A characteristic note. — Fifteen shil- 
 lings for an arrow-head. — A take-in. — A theorbo. — A "curling- 
 pin." — De Loutherbourg. — Letter, April 23, 1875. — Letter, August 
 21, 1875. — A chess-player. — Problems. — Letter, May 1876.- — A 
 disagreeable occurrence. — Loss of Tigbourne Cottage. — Visits to 
 Mr. Birket Foster. — The Macdonalds of Kepplestone. — "Fly 
 Leaves." — Letter, July 13, 1877. — Mr. Stacy Marks' prophecy. — 
 Letter, August 6, 1877. — Lawn tennis. — Letter, August 27, 1877. 
 — Bagpipe contest. — Letter, October 6, 1877. — Letter, November 
 9, 1877. — Member of "The Anti-Restoration Society." — Hatred 
 of " quacksalvers." — Letter, undated. — Letter, March 30, 1878. — 
 Mr. Crawhall's " Pots." — An unfortunate mistake. — Letter, May 24, 
 1878. — A Book-reader as well as Book-collector.— A Tory amongst 
 Whigs. — Mr. Anstey-Guthrie. — A pet scheme. — Letter, August 16, 
 1878. — Letter, August 20, 1878. — Keene as Cartoonist. — Letter, 
 September 28, 1878. — Letter, November 2, 1878. — Letter, Decem- 
 ber 16, 1878. 
 
 1875 Keene went abroad to "Trier, 
 in Rhenish Prussia — Saarbruck — Bin- 
 gen — down the Viney Rhine — Cologne, 
 and through Holland, Rotterdam, and 
 so home." 
 
207 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 "Tigbourne Cottage, 
 " Witley, Godalming, 
 " Surrey. 
 
 " Christmas Day 1 [1874]. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 "... Mr. G. Grove, formerly manager of the 
 Crystal Palace, a learned musical amateur, is writing 
 a Dictionary of Music (I think) and Dr. Stone, a 
 London amateur, is doing the Reed instruments. 
 He called on me to borrow a set of pipes, was much 
 interested in the Northumberland set and borrowed 
 them too to be drawn for the work — by the same 
 token spoilt my best reed by putting it in his mouth 
 as if it was a common hautboy ! I also lent him my 
 MS. book, my copies from yours, and appreciate 
 more fully your kindness in lending me yours, for 
 I'm in a stew about it, lest it should accidentally 
 
 come to grief. Dr. S is an enthusiast, plays the 
 
 bassoon and double ditto, and is an authority with 
 the profession on the Reed family ; says he could 
 make a Northumberland chanter reed. I challenged 
 him to do it! I'm writing to old Reid to make me 
 10s. worth. 
 
 " I'm sorry to say I've not been practising the 
 pipes much this winter ; cold weather isn't conducive 
 to much suppleness in the finger-joints, and I've a 
 
 1 This letter, though begun on Christmas Day, was not finished 
 till Jan. 30th, 1875, Keene having in the interval paid a visit to 
 London. ■ - - • 
 
208 
 
 Cfjarleg l&eene 
 
 big old Spanish guitar that's an ' Amati ' for sweet- 
 ness, and I'm seduced in my fireside leisure to twang 
 mellifluous chords thereon to some Lied of Weber's 
 rather than the ' breathing chanter ! ' There was a 
 music sale at Puttick and Simpson's this week, and 
 I see among the instruments was ' a clavecin in black 
 and gold case in excellent preservation.' I should 
 have liked to have seen this ! Don't forget to tell 
 me of the treasures you pick up. Next to getting 
 them yourself, or perhaps better, it is very interest- 
 ing to me. There was a sale in Godalming the 
 
 other day of some properties of the late Inskipp, 
 
 the painter. It seems he was a great Piscator, and I 
 brought off a ' lot ' of a salmon rod, two bait cans, as 
 big as slop-pails, two enormous landing-nets (do for 
 a good-sized shark), and a Brobdignagian fishing- 
 basket, about two or three feet wide, for fourteen 
 shillings ! the cheapest lot in the sale, I was told. 
 Hook, the painter, disregarded the Tenth Command- 
 ment openly in respect of this basket ; part of it was 
 a little broken from wear. ' For God's sake, don't 
 get it mended ! ' he implored. He is borrowing it, 
 and it will be immortalized on his canvas, I've no 
 doubt ! I heard a good story the other day, if it's not 
 old, of an English swell on his first visit to Scotland. 
 At his first sight of a plate of porridge, on coming 
 down to breakfast at his hotel, rings the bell violently 
 for the waiter, points to the viand and indignantly asks, 
 ' I say, waiter, what beast has done this ? ' I've had 
 a Royston crow sent me, who has lost a leg in a rat- 
 trap, just above the heel, so the poor bird is very 
 
a Scanned Croto 
 
 209 
 
 helpless. We think of fitting him with a wooden leg 
 in this way, 1 but I'm afraid he'd be bothered in 
 perching. I keep him at my studio, have cut his 
 wing and let him out every day in the garden, saving 
 his life often from the cats. I think they would find 
 him a ' Tartar,' taking him for a pigeon, no doubt, if 
 he had both his legs. It's touching to see how he 
 keeps by the wall so that he can lean against it, and 
 his efforts to clean his wing and tail feathers, and 
 preserve his balance, is painful to see ! My friend 
 P. Morris, who has the other studio in the house 
 with me, is even more zoological than I. He has got 
 four fallow hinds and threatens a buck. His idea 
 now is to sink an old bath in the middle of our 
 garden, fill it with a few buckets of water, and have 
 a swan ! and some ducks ! ' The reflections in the 
 water would be so jolly ! ' I've the greatest difficulty 
 in choking him off! They are going to send me up 
 an unmaimed carrion crow from Norfolk. There is 
 a good deal of character in the corvines. I had a 
 jackdaw that was a Hotspur of birds for choler ; 
 quite tame and good-tempered with all the family . 
 if a stranger appeared he would turn to a shapeless 
 black lump from all his feathers being on end, and, 
 unable to caw from choking, he would tumble to the 
 intruder and send his beak right through his boot. 
 What is the bird on your crest, a chough ? Can you 
 tell me what would be a fair price to give for a decent 
 copy of ' Bewick's Birds ' ? I rather like a book to 
 look as if it had seen service. I've got the 'quad- 
 1 Here comes a sketch of a wooden bird's-leg. 
 P 
 
210 
 
 Cljarleg Heene 
 
 rupeds,' certainly a ' used copy.' I was ' taken ' with 
 a marginal note in it, scrawled in a girl's hand in 
 pencil over the print of the Opossums, — ' nasty dis- 
 gusting animals ! ' but the impressions are good 
 enough. What an artist he was ! I send you the 
 pastoral round from ' Pammelia' ; you may accompany 
 your choir in the third line on the penny whistle ; it's 
 very pretty ! Excuse its being a ' used copy.' I'm 
 looking forward to a visit to the Highlands this 
 year to see A. Stevenson, of Tynemouth, whom you 
 know. He has asked me before, but I've never 
 been able to sr>. One reason was that I've a friend 
 in Edinburgh who would have been dreadfully riled 
 at my going North and not spending the best part of 
 the time with him, but he tells me he is going to St. 
 Kilda (!) this year, so that gives me a chance. I 
 have not time for both. I shall take my pipes, in 
 the hopes of finding a lonely glen to practise in; 
 that's the worst of the instrument ; grateful as its 
 acid nasal tone is to my own ear, I'm of a compunc- 
 tious disposition and I'm always more comfortable 
 in playing out of earshot ! What I sigh for is a 
 tract of lonely sea-shore on a hard sand. Gardiner, 
 in his 'Music of Nature' (have you the book?) 
 says the roar of the sea is in F, but all's one for 
 that. I'm afraid you must be pretty well bored by 
 this time with all this, so I'll ' knock off.' I dare not 
 read what I've written. Perhaps I've repeated 
 myself. Against your Quern, my last antique I 
 have to show is a tinder-box, flint and steel, and an 
 original ha'porth of brimstone matches, given me 
 
?Lo'oe of Animate 
 
 211 
 
 the other day ; — thought of sending it to South 
 Kensington. Item, a chipped flint, evidently for an 
 arrow-head, picked up in a sandy common in Surrey. 
 And the promise of a lot of ancient pipes from a 
 friend, the city architect, who is digging up about 
 Billingsgate Market. I hear there is another book 
 of pipe music coming out by Ross, the Queen's 
 piper. I want to show my transcript of your book of 
 tunes to Tom Chappell, the author of the English 
 collection. I think he'd be surprised, that is, if you 
 would not mind. Hoping you'll excuse me for this 
 ■ bald, disjointed chat,' 
 " I am, 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 Keene had a great love for animals of all kinds. 
 In the days of the Strand Studio he had induced the 
 rats, with which the old house was infested, to come 
 every day to regular meals, and the " Royston Crow," 
 mentioned in the preceding letter, was well known 
 to visitors at the Queen's Road Studio. 
 
 On a visit to Mr. Charles Edwards, at Bridgham 
 Hall, Norfolk, father of his friend Edwin Edwards, 
 he had prevailed upon the bailiff to catch him a 
 carrion crow for a pet. Unfortunately in the process 
 its leg was broken, which necessitated amputation 
 and the construction of the " surgical aid " here 
 mentioned. In the early part of the above letter, 
 which has not been quoted, dealing, as it does, 
 mainly with matters of private interest, Keene 
 speaks of a friend who " was when he lived in 
 
212 
 
 Ctjarleg I&eene 
 
 London an omnivorous collector of knick-knackets, 
 and has a most magpieish assortment," " which," he 
 might have added, " also am I." 
 
 He himself had the cacoethes colligendi strong upon 
 him through life. From flint implements to book- 
 plates ; from old musical instruments to cookery- 
 books — of which he had a large collection priced from 
 one penny upwards, — all that was curious and antique 
 was fish for his net. Of the first-named he became a 
 most enthusiastic collector after having formed a 
 nucleus from those brought together by a gentleman 
 who had been forced to sell. The following is a 
 characteristic note on this subject to his friend Stewart, 
 to whom he had previously written, saying that he had 
 lost a flint and was sure he had handed it to him. 
 
 " ii, Queen's Road West, 
 " Dear Jack, " Chelsea. 
 
 " Gaudeamus / 
 "I've found the chip from Dartmoor! and my 
 pleasure is only spoilt by the regret of having fancied 
 I had handed it over to you. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 On another occasion he writes to Mr. Crawhall : 
 " I've had a gnawing sorrow on my mind the last 
 week or so — lost one of my best flints ! Such is life ! ' 
 And again : ' Was at a sale at Sotheby's this week r 
 bought a few flints, nothing particular, but prices very 
 high. Canon G. 1 was rather shocked at my having 
 1 Canon Greenwell. 
 
jrli'ntu 
 
 213 
 
 given fifteen shillings for an arrow-head, but flints 
 have risen so much apparently that I am reconciled. 
 I'll show this arrow-head against any in Christendy." 
 
 Again : " I met J. E. the other night (flint imple- 
 ments) and had a long chat with him and liked him 
 very much. He must have a fine collection ; seems 
 to go in for everything ; and he is constantly finding 
 flints, but then he knows where to look for them. I 
 hope some day to see his treasures." Again : " I found 
 a letter from Lord R. and called on him this morning. 
 There were a couple of boxes full of scrapers. I 
 picked out about thirty from those found in Suffolk 
 and Norfolk and forty from Yorkshire. He gave me 
 two specimens from Cissbury Hill, in Sussex, one from 
 Maidenhall Drift in Suffolk, and a small axe from 
 Peru, and three arrow-heads from America, a very 
 nice lot altogether. He has a magnificent collection, 
 but he keeps them mostly in Edinburgh. He said 
 he had none from Surrey, and I told him I would 
 send him some." 
 
 On one occasion he was amusingly " gulled," with 
 what indignation may be imagined. " I was 'sold' 
 the other day," he writes to Mr. Crawhall. " I saw 
 advertised two books, ' The Caves of South Devon, 
 etc.,' and 'A Critical Examination of the Flints from 
 Brixham Cavern.' I rushed and bought 'em the 
 first opportunity, and found they came from a 
 Religious Society, established by a sort of Pograms 
 and Hot-Gospellers, and were written to prove that 
 the flints were all shaped accidentally by wobbling 
 about in Noah's Flood, etc., etc. !" 
 
214 
 
 Cfjarleg Heene 
 
 And this of his precious paleo-liths, to which he 
 had devoted a chest of drawers, stowing away his 
 clothes in brown paper parcels underneath ! All 
 through his letters we find allusions to curiosities he 
 had either just succeeded in or just missed picking 
 up. For example : "I picked up a pretty old Psalter 
 since I wrote last. ' The whole Booke of David's 
 Psalms both in Prose and Meeter, with apt Notes 
 to sing them withall, etc., 1635.' Diamond-headed 
 notes, no bars, but the tunes, as I can spell them out, 
 very quaint and grim. I can hear them sung by a 
 sort of prick-eared baritones through their noses in a 
 conventicle, and see their steeple-crowned hats and 
 Geneva cloaks hanging on the walls." Again : " Tell 
 me," he writes to a friend, " when you write, of any 
 additions to your collection of antiquities you may 
 have made. I heard of a friend, an artist, who 
 bought an old theorbo, 1 from five to six feet high, at 
 Christie's last week, for five pounds. I'm rather 
 glad I did not know of it, as I might have been 
 tempted to lavish my money on it ! for of the collect- 
 ing of books and instruments there is no end." 
 
 Again : " I've got a real ' tirling-pin/ and have 
 fixed it to my bedroom door. I bought it out of 
 a heap of old iron in Aberdeen Market. This is 
 parlous news that you have ' broken out ' into old 
 
 1 A large double-necked lute with two sets of tuning-pegs, the . 
 lower set holding the strings, which lie over the fretted finger- 
 board, while the upper set are attached to the bass strings, or so- 
 called diapasons, which are used as open notes. For further 
 particulars, see Grove's " Dictionary of Music and Musicians," 
 vol. iv. p. 100. 
 
&d (Hirtttogo 
 
 215 
 
 furniture. I've had a catalogue of a sale coming off 
 in Belfast, from a friend there. I've asked him to 
 bid for a lot or two for me, e.g., ' 16. Three religious 
 silver medals, two silver heart-shaped do., silver 
 fibula, with inscription : " Ave Maria Gratia plena." 
 
 " ' 18. Curious wooden nutcrackers. 
 
 "'32. Seventeen clay and other old pipes; three 
 brass and one iron do. 
 
 " ' 60. Fifteen flint arrow-heads, from 1 -J- to 3 inches 
 long. 
 
 "'61. Three flint spear-heads, 4, 5, and 6 inches 
 long, and eight javelin or arrow-heads, to 3 inches 
 lono-.' There are lots of ' Querns ' 1 and other curious 
 things in bronze. ' Objects associated with the 
 Rebellion of '98, and coins and medals.' It's well 
 you had not this catalogue. The consequences would 
 have been frightful." The " tirling-pin " mentioned 
 above, which he set great store by, he presented to 
 his friend Mr. Hipkins shortly before his death. It 
 is a corrugated piece of iron, which, smartly scraped 
 with a small ring attached, gives most ample and 
 startling warning of a visitor at the door. 
 
 And yet one more quotation on this subject. " I 
 have picked up the third de Loutherbourg I was in 
 search of, — ' The Battle of the Nile,' so my wall at 
 home will have quite a last century, ' Glorious British 
 Navy,' air about it. These, with two or three others 
 of the period, the Bewick litho (trotting-horse), you 
 gave me, a drawing of Rowlandson's, and some 
 etchings of Chodowiecki's, will stamp me a genuine 
 1 Hand-mills for grinding grain. 
 
2l6 
 
 Cfjarte0 Ifteenc 
 
 aesthetic. These engravings — they are about 36 
 inches wide, pure line-engraving — I gave about seven 
 pounds for, and don't think they are dear, though 
 I've had no experience in this line." 
 
 With these enough has been said to show v/hat an 
 omniverous collector he was. We shall have further 
 opportunities of observing the eclectic nature of his 
 passion in the letters given in extenso. 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 1 1, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Apr// 23, 1875.] 
 
 " Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 " I'm afraid to think how long it is since you so 
 kindly sent me the madrigals. My first impulse was 
 to write off to you my thanks immediately, but I was 
 not ripe for a real letter then, and it would have been 
 a mere perfunctory one, which I hate, so I rashly 
 put it off, thinking to send you one of my gossipy 
 
 despatches in a few days ! And now it's but I 
 
 mustn't think how long it was ago. Only I assure 
 you I shall prize the volumes very much. I had one 
 or two of the set, and yours make a valuable addition, 
 and those old-world documents you kindly sent me 
 have determined me to make a scrap-book for the 
 like sort. I've been unusually busy lately, as I'm 
 thinking of going to Treves with a friend, about the 
 middle of May (I've seen the Black Forest in spring, 
 and want to see it again), so in such case, I'm 
 obliged to get forward with my work — not an easy 
 matter. I suppose you've already been on Coquet side 
 
99tt3ical instruments 
 
 217 
 
 with rod and creel. I've hailed the advent of spring 
 with skirling on the pipes, my fingers having thawed, 
 and uncommonly exhilarating it is! It takes two or 
 three days to get them into good playing order. I 
 bought a very good set of half-size pipes the other day 
 and find 'em very easy to handle now, but had a great 
 trouble in fitting the reeds. I fancy that's why you 
 don't persevere with them, your not being able to get 
 them in tune. I was sorry to hear of poor old Reid's 
 death. Who's to make chanter reeds now ? Does 
 his Rembrandtish old wife carry on the business ? I 
 think, if I were you, I would secure that dulcimer, if 
 I could get it cheap. I have never heard of ' a 
 Pastorella,' — I don't know about the fiddle ; I believe 
 the German makers are not much valued: ,£15 
 seems a good price. Don't recollect the name of 
 'Aubon Jaip' in Mittenwald, as one of the great 
 makers. A friend of mine brought an instrument 
 from the Tyrol, really in principle a viol, but played 
 on now. You place it on a table or on your knee 
 with the finger-board from you, fretted, which you 
 finger with left hand, and play with a bow, drawing 
 it across under the left arm. I shall try and get one. 
 I should like to hear a six-part madrigal played with 
 viols ! I don't know whether I shall get a holiday run 
 into Scotland this year ; if I do I shall certainly try 
 and have a day at Newcastle, for the pleasure of 
 seeing you. I had an invitation from Alexander 
 Stevenson, but he has unfortunately gone and 
 married, so I suppose that has lapsed, but I've had 
 another from F, Powell, the water-colour painter, to go 
 
218 
 
 Cljaties Beene 
 
 a cruise in his yacht on the ' Clyde ' ; whether I shall 
 be able to manage it or no, I can't say. My friend 
 in Edinburgh, a man of a Robinson Crusoeish turn 
 of mind, is going to St. Kilda. He is going over in 
 the Factor's boat, and trusts to chance and a passing 
 ship to get back again ! He lately sent me two 
 articles for my collection, — a flint arrow-head, picked 
 up by his brother in Illinois, and a tooth from a 
 stone coffin from Bute ! He thought the latter un- 
 commonly interesting, so you see he is one of us. 
 He tells me a friend of his, a lawyer in Edinburgh, 
 gave him a letter written by a Highland chief in the 
 seventeenth century. I think I shall try and get this 
 from him for my new scrap-book. My old carrion crow 
 is alive and flourishing, but I'm afraid lousy. I'm 
 going to get some ' Staves acre,' ' Stavis Agria ' — in 
 English, lice-bane, vide Gerard — and mix it with 
 sand, wherein he may dust himself, and I've had the 
 promise of a raven in two directions. I saw the 
 other day some lovely bird skins from Australia, sent 
 to a friend of mine, a painter, one especially, a king- 
 fisher, the same size as ours but of sadder colour, but 
 quite exquisite. There was a Scotch doctor died in 
 London the other day, and I see part of his library 
 is to be sold. He was a Celtic scholar and an enthu- 
 siast for the pipes and Highland music. He may 
 have had a copy of Peacock. If there's anything 
 interesting I'll send you the catalogue. I told you 
 I had a call from an amateur bassoon player (Dr. 
 Stone), who was writing an article on the Reed 
 instruments for a forthcoming Dictionary of Music 
 
219 
 
 by G. Grove. I lent him a pipe-chanter and a set 
 of Northumberland pipes, and my MS. book of 
 tunes (he was much interested in the latter, thanks 
 to you for your book). He has returned them and 
 says he has done ' the bagpipe.' He seemed to fancy 
 he had got to the bottom of it, and I'm very curious 
 to see what he says. I'll forward it to you when I 
 get it. I went down to Witley on the 12th, pur- 
 posely to hear the nightingales ; they have arrived 
 for the last four years on the 13th, at about 11 p.m. 
 This year they had not come on the 15th! and I 
 had to come to town the next morning — a backward- 
 ness unknown to the oldest inhabitant. A friend 
 heard the wryneck in his garden at Hammersmith 
 last Sunday. 
 
 " May %tk. — Another reason my letter has been so 
 long delayed is explained by the enclosed packet. I 
 wanted to get an old friend of mine to make me some 
 sketches from your book plate, and he is getting 
 old and his eyesight is failing him, so we have 
 to manage in a gingerly way to get anything from 
 him. I had shown him your ' Book of Angling,' 
 when I first had it, at which he was delighted. 
 I thought you had a fancy for heraldry, from your 
 having inserted some coats of Border families in your 
 
 MS. music book, and M is a master of the craft, 
 
 and an artist therein, as I think you will see. I 
 don't know anything about it, but that an old 
 ' armorial bearing ' is a pretty ' gay ' (a Suffolk word 
 signifying 'picture'). I have also sent you a few 
 specimens to show you how they look engraved, and, 
 
220 
 
 Cljarlcg I&eene 
 
 if you would like one engraved, I know the man 
 who cut those of Foster Moncrieff and Heseltine, 
 and would get it done for you. They are photo- 
 graphed on to the wood. That one of S. W. Lawley 
 is curious. I picked it up somewhere and found 
 
 it was by a friend and pupil of M s. The 
 
 design was rather tortured, but the fine crest showed 
 the master ! I have not picked up anything in the 
 curious line lately. I saw a fine old harpsichord 
 lately at Puttick and Simpson's. It had been in a 
 previous sale knocked down for £20, but not 
 taken away and was put up again, but it was 
 nearly as big as a small grand piano, and I 
 don't know what it fetched ; it was in a black 
 and gold case. I had a most outrageous leaden 
 pilgrim's token sent me the other day — a bare- 
 faced ' Flint Jack,' — for my collection of Facetiae 
 Antiquae, but that requires a long explanation. 
 A friend of mine with a genius for elaborate 
 (innocent) practical jokes, had an idea of cultiva- 
 ting the acquaintance of some real antiquaries, and 
 of quietly giving out that he had a taste that way, 
 and then gradually alluding to his own collection 
 (which was really to be of the most artful shams), 
 and at last to have the pleasure of displaying it 
 to some amiable connoisseur, and to watch the 
 expression of his face as he discovers how fright- 
 fully his friend has been ' done,' and to see the 
 struggle in his mind as to whether and how he shall 
 break it to him! ! I've been helping to collect these, 
 and some of the items I think would amuse you, but 
 
"faceup" 
 
 221 
 
 they require to be seen ! stuck on cards, etc., and 
 labelled a la ' South Kensington' ! E.g., I found the 
 enclosed sketch in the flyleaf of an old MS. book. 
 I shall mount it, labelled, ' Portrait of Guido Faukes, 
 sketched by one of the Jury ! ' Send me this back. 
 If you are not bored by this fooling I'll tell you 
 of some of my other treasures in my next. 
 " So adieu for the present, and 
 
 " I am, yours very truly, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 "Tigbourne Cottage, 
 "Witley. 
 
 August 2\st [1875]. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 " I got your jolly letter the day before and the 
 Treason Mugg (Safe) on the day I started down here. 
 I can't sufficiently thank you for both. The Pot is 
 simply superb and will stand ' primus ' among the 
 Facetiae. Though I admire it so, it seems past a joke, 
 especially when I think of your trouble. The 'trumps' 
 too, are a most acceptable collection ; and the one you 
 notice with the cunning smith's work ornament is 
 very commendable Who makes them ? I should 
 like to think they were fabricated by the Northumber- 
 land gypsies that I've been reading about in W. 
 Allen's Life (I picked the book up from a stall the 
 other day, I dare say you know it), but I suppose, like 
 most things now, they are made by the million in a 
 factory ! I was thinking the other day, reading 
 
222 
 
 C!jarlc0 I&cene 
 
 Cobbett's 4 Rural Rides' (I have been picking up his 
 works lately, and shall try and get them all, they are 
 very amusing), how that vituperative old Briton 
 would have cussed and swore if he had lived in these 
 days of railways and machinery, and (over) bitter 
 beer ! Have you his works ? I have his ' Rural 
 Rides,' 'The Northern Tour' and 'Cottage 
 Economy.' I want to get his ' English Gardener' 
 and ' Tour in France' and ' History of Reformation,' 
 etc. ; don't care so much for his purely political tracts ; 
 you get plenty of that in all his books. 1 can't tame 
 my Royston crow. When I first had him I used to 
 catch and cage him every night — he has his liberty 
 altogether now, but he always gives me a ' wide berth.' 
 I shall not cut his wing again, but give him his chance 
 if it grows again, as he's plenty of ' nous ' to get his 
 living. I place food for him of a night, as he's an 
 early breakfaster, and I find what he doesn't eat he 
 hides and makes a light supper and a drink just before 
 turning in at sundown. I've got into feud with the 
 neighbours about him, having snared some of their 
 cats, who had designs on him. I think they would 
 have devoured him long ago, but he gives the most 
 awful caw when they come near him, which disconcerts 
 them. I should like to have the Lochiel raven, but 
 I'm afraid you would have trouble about it, and that's 
 absurd to ask such a price for the Roth bury bird, 
 except for his conversational powers. We can get 
 young ravens from Cornwall in Leadenhall Market, 
 for a guinea, so say the word if you'd like a 
 southerner. 
 
223 
 
 " Ait gust 25th. 
 
 "Your card about the raven was sent on to me 
 here. I hope you won't be at any trouble about it, 
 though I should like to have the bird. It is worth 
 the higher price for the fancy (it being a long-lived 
 animal) that its grandfather might have heard the 
 ' Camerons' Gathering' in '45, but it would be an 
 awful long journey for the beastie. What sort of a 
 house was it at Fassiferne (?) — ancient ? and the 
 surroundings — impressive ? I've never seen the 
 Highlands of Scotland, but I'm never tired of reading 
 their story, and I'm interested in the race, as my 
 oldest and nearest friend, and the finest disposition 
 of any man I ever knew, is of Highland blood — a 
 Stewart from Rannoch. I hope you practise on the 
 pipe. Recollect that, if you master the practice-stick 
 it will only take you a fortnight or three weeks, when 
 you are in a convenient place, to attain to the bliss 
 of being able to pour out your soul on the ' Piob 
 mohr ! ' I enclose you the tune I promised you ; it 
 is of the same marked character as ' Macpherson's 
 Lament,' but, I think, stranger. I could not play it 
 for some time for laughing ! Get it on your pipe 
 before letting it be tried on the piano ; it's very easy 
 to play. I told you a friend of mine was going to 
 St. Kilda. He was there two months and escaped 
 at last in a yacht that touched there for a few 
 minutes ! (no harbour), but he was delighted with the 
 place and people ; believes he could live there for 
 ten pounds a year, and talks of publishing his account 
 of it with sketches he made there. Mrs. Birket 
 
224 
 
 Cljarlcgf Heene 
 
 Foster told me she had received a hamper of game 
 from Alec Stevenson, who has taken his bride to 
 their Highland home. A friend of ours who lives 
 down here has gone up to shoot with him. By the 
 bye, you may know him — Captain Nelson, R.N. — as 
 he was stationed on the Tyne for some time ; com- 
 manded a gunboat, I think. He is of the family 
 (Norfolk) of the great admiral, and a very nice 
 fellow he is. . . . 
 
 "Chelsea, Sept. 2nd. 
 " I've just received the little Is. Wa. muglet, 
 for which I thank you heartily, and feel my nascent 
 passion for original pot-painting much aggravated. 
 I've already got a grey mug like that Flanders ware, 
 on which I shall try my hand, and hope to make 
 you a return in kind. Young Willie Foster (Birket 
 Foster's son) I found had been painting (blue) some 
 plates very successfully, but his burning was not so 
 successful as yours, as there was a roughness on the 
 surface. Do you paint yours on the already glazed 
 ware or previously to the glaze ? But I'll find all 
 that out. I hope you won't think me heedless that 
 I have not written before, thanking you for the 
 Treason mug, etc., but I thought I should have got 
 this off before, and I'd always rather write a long 
 letter than a short one, as you can chatter more 
 freely, and it is an excuse for carelessness ! The 
 little mug was most securely packed. I had to per- 
 form a Csesarean operation and cut it out of the 
 Australian case with a pair of shears. I've got back 
 to town for good now, I think, but it's very dull — 
 
225 
 
 everybody away, the club shut up, and the days 
 shortening. My Irish friend was in Northumberland 
 lately, at Warkworth, I think. He asked me to 
 inquire how it was that the Coquet trout were not 
 very good to eat — tasteless, he thought. Those in 
 the pond down at Witley are delicious ; there are 
 some there four and five pounds weight ! I suppose 
 it's the food. 
 
 " I wonder if you or any of yours are chess 
 players ? I send you a cunning problem. White 
 has the move, and if he makes the right one, what- 
 ever Black does, W. mates in his next move. I've 
 drawn the men plainly. It's the best in two moves 
 I ever saw. 
 
 " I can't keep the letter another day ; so good-bye, 
 and many thanks again for the art treasures, and 
 " Believe me, 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 Keene was enthusiastic over chess as over every- 
 thing that he took up, but, inasmuch as he required 
 not unusually a quarter of an hour for a move, he 
 was not much sought after as an antagonist, so he 
 perforce fell back upon the solitary working out of 
 problems. 
 
 " I shall see M to-day," he writes. " I sent 
 
 him some problems I had solved the other day, and 
 he replied with some others. I send you one. I 
 pore over these two moves and find them out with- 
 out setting the men upon a board. It is amusing ! " 
 
 Q 
 
226 
 
 Cljaileg Tkzmz 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 "May, 1876. 
 (Rec d . Nov. 26.) 
 
 Arts Club, 
 
 " Hanover Square, W. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Crawhall, 
 
 " I can't thank you sufficiently for so kindly 
 interesting yourself in helping my old friend, but I'm 
 sure if you knew him you would take to him as we 
 
 " Your mugs and plates are the envy of my 
 friends, and I've decorated my studio walls with the 
 latter. I shall be so delighted if I can do some- 
 thing decent in the same way. I send you a little 
 book with this for your library. I think I told you 
 of my Scotch friend who was going to St. Kilda ; 
 this book is the result. I really believe he will go 
 and live there, and marry one of the fisher girls ! 
 but I doubt whether he'll improve these Celts by 
 civilizing them, teaching them to be industrious, and 
 to take to trading and making money, accomplish- 
 ments he has never succeeded in teaching himself, 
 by the bye ! but I think he writes and describes 
 pleasantly and impersonally (the latter quality is rare 
 nowadays), and this seems to me what he is fitted 
 for — to wander and describe remote and uncom- 
 fortable places. I asked him if there was any 
 tradition among these people of that story about 
 Lady Grange, who was carried there about some 
 hundred years ago, but he had not thought of asking 
 them. He has got his boat subscribed for, and is 
 taking her there this spring. 
 
 all do. 
 
Ctje "Point of flHteto" 
 
 227 
 
 " I went some time ago to see a friend, an artist, 
 who lives in a remote village in Essex, Castle 
 Hedingham, where, by the bye, is a splendid Norman 
 Keep (was a castle of the De Veres) with all the 
 floors except top (Oliver Cromwell of course) care- 
 fully preserved and the windows wired. How I 
 should like to live in it ! My friend offered me a 
 quern that a man had dug up in a wood close by. 
 It was made of a coarse sort of pudding stone, but 
 enormously heavy, so I did not ' rise ' at it, which 
 I'm rather ashamed of. It was something like this. 1 
 I suppose the hole at the side was for the stick to 
 turn it with. There was a piece of the lower stone, 
 upon which it was turned, with it, but I suppose this 
 need not be very old ? This was the most rural and 
 remote place for an artist that I've seen, and filled 
 me with envy ! It had been a farm-house, and he 
 had added on a studio, a sort of baronial hall with 
 rafters, etc. ; but, being in the house, the women folk 
 invaded it and disturbed him, and so he gave it up 
 to them, and it makes a charming morning room. I 
 promised him an old shirt of mail I have to hang up 
 in it, along with the old pictures, and add to the 
 illusion. His studio now is in the corner of an old 
 barn, more removed from the house! 
 
 "So much depends upon the point of view. This 
 remoteness and rural quiet was such a grateful back- 
 ground to his life of work, but his wife found it rather 
 dull ! We were much amused, as I was describing a 
 seaside village I knew of in Suffolk, and where I was 
 1 Here is a rough sketch of the stone. 
 
228 
 
 enijarlegf Tkmw 
 
 recommending him to go, as the place and people 
 were picturesque, etc. My point of view was, that 
 it was rather inaccessible and not much known to 
 
 summer visitors. His 
 wife wanted to know if 
 there was a band there ! 1 
 I thought of you one 
 day in the village. We 
 went into a shop, and I 
 noticed a case full of old 
 china and some white 
 plates, answering the 
 a ' t ^^y,^ \ description of those you 
 
 l/^V /^=^^^S^-=^i^! wanted, but the master 
 
 was out and his wife 
 said they were a hobby 
 of his, and he did not 
 wish to sell them. I 
 fancy my taste is much 
 the same as yours in 
 the china way. I'm very 
 fond of the old English, 
 but I've never 'gone in' 
 for it. The expense al- 
 ways frighted me ; there 
 seemed no bottom to it 
 if you once began. Have you any of those mari- 
 time punch-bowls ? I don't know what ware it is, 
 but they have generally some particular ship painted 
 on them and a verse or two about it ; I've noticed 
 1 Vide p. 87, " Our People." 
 
 AN OSTLER. 
 
"CijtolitngtolD, tap rare" 229 
 
 them in seaports. In Aberdeen I saw one or two 
 fine ones, and should think they are well known in 
 Newcastle. I suppose they were made for some 
 ship in the old punch-drinking days. I have a 
 gray drinking-mug that (I) shall try and do some- 
 thing on if feasible ; I shall learn this from my 
 friend de Morgan. Blue Japanese seems the fashion- 
 able ware for the connoisseurs here. I confess I'm 
 rather tired of it. I used to be down in Surrey a 
 good deal once ; I had a share of a cottage and, one 
 day at Haselmere, I bought a couple of very quaint 
 plates with very roughly-painted Easternish figures. 
 At that time there was a talk amongst us that there 
 was formerly a pottery at Chiddingfold, a very small 
 village close by. It was said to be mentioned in 
 Drayton's ' Polyolbion' (don't believe it). At any rate, 
 I gave them to Birket Foster, and said most likely 
 they' were of this antient manufacture. Another friend 
 heard this, who was shortly after in Aked's (a cele- 
 brated dealer) shop, and the latter showed him a plate 
 like these and he did not know what ware it was. Our 
 friend enlightened him and the plate was immediately 
 ticketed in the window ' Chiddingfold, very rare ! ! ' 
 
 "I knew an old - curio ' once who had a craze for 
 musical instruments, swords, and particularly any- 
 thing mounted with shagreen ! and I caught a taste 
 for the latter, and anything in a shagreen case always 
 - pulls me up.' A curious coincidence happened. I 
 had a friend who was an inventor in the matter of 
 drums ! He invented the silent drum and patented 
 another that collapsed in some way ; three of these 
 
230 
 
 Cljacleg l&eene 
 
 were made, he had one and gave me one, and I found 
 my friend, the shagreen curio — whose acquaintance I 
 made years afterwards — had the third ! After his 
 death I bought at his sale some knives in cases, an 
 antique dirk, and some etui cases, but the Jews will 
 run you up for these things ! How I hate to see their 
 portentous noses in a sale-room, don't you ? 
 
 " I don't know young Bromley much, have only 
 met him once or twice. Was he angling up at the 
 Coquet ? My Irish friend who fished in your river 
 one summer (I think he met your brother there at 
 the same sport) has been this year at some village 
 on the Cornish coast, painting and fishing. He tells 
 me he used to catch pollack (I'm not sure of the 
 spelling) from a boat with a big feather for a fly. 
 Whackers, three or four pounds weight, sometimes 
 two at once ; they soon began to spoil his rod, so he 
 made a rough one of pine that did just as well, and 
 he seems to have had good sport. I should like to 
 have seen those Bewick relics. I very often have 
 disputation with my friend Boyce, the water-colour 
 painter (you know his work I daresay, if not, I wish 
 you did) ; he is an ardent Bewickian, but I maintain 
 that Bewick was a greater artist than wood-engraver, 
 and that he worked in and was hampered by an un- 
 grateful material, that he could have done more with 
 copper ; and I believe I place him higher than Boyce 
 does. We have not beaten the old masters of wood- 
 engraving in my opinion, but have tried to do too 
 much with it and failed. 
 
 " Do you know Reidel's designs for the Todtentanz 
 
»)fOtl)cU*D 
 
 231 
 
 and ' Death the Friend' and ' Death the Avenger' ? 
 That's the sort of wood-engraving (modern) that I 
 like. I don't think I've seen the photos you speak 
 of from the old engravers. I never collected many 
 steel-plate impressions, too expensive for me. I've 
 got a good many Stothards that I used to fancy very 
 much and some by one Chodowiecki. Stothard used 
 to draw for magazines without putting his name to 
 the designs, and I used to like getting hold of these. 
 There's no mistaking his ' fist! ' and there are several 
 prints that I remember as a boy that I'm always on 
 the look-out for, but have never seen since ; they are 
 either by Wheatley or Morland. I had a wonderful 
 little design of Chodowiecki's, from which Leslie 
 cribbed his figure of the Duenna in the picture of 
 ' Sancho before the Duchess,' but I've lost it ; some 
 friend has bagged it no doubt. 
 
 "Octoberi. — What must you think of me for a corre- 
 spondent! I've been going to write to you often, but 
 then these portions of letter have not been to hand, 
 stowed away in some sketch-book or folio, and then 
 this summer has been a very busy and interesting one 
 to me from a very violent new 'craze' I've taken, 
 about which I've so often been wanting to talk to you 
 and now it has all accumulated, and I've so much to 
 say that throwing it at you all at once rather appals 
 me. My only hope is that, from a dim recollection 
 in a letter of yours, your mentioning a certain i stane ' 
 that you had picked up, and knowing you have a lot 
 of querns, you will be able to bear with me. When I 
 was laid up with my broken shin I read a lot of 
 
232 
 
 geological books, my first aquaintance with that lore. 
 From that I came down to the ' Antiquity of Man,' 
 etc., etc., and then to Evans' 'Flint Implements' 
 and Stevens' ' Flint Chips,' and hoc genus omne. I 
 seemed to be born again ! and just about this time 
 I was going to the Suffolk coast for a week's holiday! 
 I broke my journey at a country town where there 
 was a sale of the effects of a man with whom I'd an 
 acquaintance (an antiquary of course !) and amongst 
 his treasures were some ' owd ston's ' ! Some of these 
 I managed to bag, and about eight or nine splendid 
 arrow-heads from Icklingham and thereabouts. I had 
 to forego a splendid stone axe that they gave out the 
 Ipswich Museum meant to run up to five pounds, but 
 I was delighted with my acquisition. Then I went 
 on to Dunwich (once in Saxon times the capital of 
 East Anglia, seat of a bishop, etc , etc., which is now 
 all under the sea, and a little village only left without 
 a shop in the place). The country round about is 
 healthy and warreny, and, by George, I couldn't keep 
 my eyes off the ground. I think I helped to 'scrab' 
 at every rabbit-hole in the country side, and a farmer 
 there showed me where a magnificent flint gouge had 
 been picked up. This implement I find is well known, 
 and the son of the farmer, in whose possession it was, 
 told me his heart was nearly broken when it was 
 wheedled out of the old' gentleman by an ardent 
 collector, Col. Lane Fox ! This is enough at this 
 time, but, bless your soul, more anon ! 
 
 " I'd a very pleasant visit at Dunwich. This is a 
 charming, lonely place. I used to take my pipes to 
 
2 34 
 
 Cljatles Ikmw 
 
 the beach about 10 p.m. when the populace were 
 asleep, and skirl away by the sad sea waves for an 
 hour or so. It was awfully hot weather and I found 
 the best thing to do was to walk briskly and sweat it 
 out. I had one burst of sixteen miles one day with 
 a youthful athlete, and when we got back heard to 
 our surprise it had been the hottest day of the summer, 
 Three miles off down the beach was a small seaside 
 place, where my friend H. S. Marks was staying with 
 his family, so we had society whenever we liked for 
 the walking. I scratched on some copper-plates in the 
 cool of the evening. I've not bitten them yet, but, if 
 they turn out anything, I'll send you some proofs. 
 Whilst here, I fed my flame with a book, 1 Ten Years' 
 Diggings.' I am reminded how, when I was a boy, 
 we knew an old gentleman who seemed to have only 
 one idea, and that was this or that ' Noble Barrow ' 
 that he had seen or dug. We used to think him 
 great fun. I wish he had not died. After being 
 there ten days and just beginning to enjoy the country, 
 I had to come back to London to work ! — such is life ! 
 The only other holiday I have had this year was about 
 ten days I spent with poor Stewart at Witley, Surrey, 
 and here I begin again ! Godalming is the nearest 
 town (four miles) to this Surrey village, and it's the 
 place we walk to for exercise or shopping. There is 
 an old tradesman in the town, a seed and corn 
 merchant, upon whom Jack Stewart and I generally 
 call. He is a man of no learning, was a sailor in his 
 youth, has prospered in his business, which I suppose 
 goes on of itself, and now seems to spend all his time 
 
Cljuckp »>tane0" 
 
 235 
 
 in stuffing birds and animals. Ke has large ware- 
 houses lined with cases of every English bird — 
 paints the backgrounds himself! and not badly, and 
 hangingfrom the rafters, and shelved, muskets, swords, 
 bows, arrows, stuffed alligators, fossils, books, har- 
 poons, etc., etc. The most magpieish collector living he 
 must be I should think. Stewart and I were hitherto 
 interested in his birds and mediaeval gimcracks, but, 
 when we went this time, full of our new craze, found 
 to our surprize he had been collecting pre-historic 
 ' Chucky stanes' for years ! and showed us a splendid 
 lot ! From his avocation he knows all the farmers 
 and bucolicals over the country, shows 'em his types, 
 and the country boys bring him bushels of flints. He 
 showed us baskets full of rejected, but he told us he 
 paid the boys for all, so as not to discourage them, 
 and was very satisfied with the percentage of genuine 
 ones he got by this means. He has a silver spoon, 
 some flint flakes and what he says is a 'petrified 
 human eye ! ' he got himself from a tomb in South 
 America when he was a seaman. He told us of a 
 friend of his in Goldalming who had been picking up 
 ' stanes ' for years in the neighbourhood (they abound 
 round about if you look sharp), and who was going to 
 emigrate and he thought would part with his collec- 
 tion. My heart leapt ! — in short, I got them for ^3 
 10s. — about 300 Stewart tells me, for he managed the 
 transaction for me, and I've not seen them yet, but 
 Stewart says they are the real article and the scraper 
 types are very fine ! While we were at Stafford's on 
 this occasion a farmer brought him the half of a 
 
236 
 
 Cljarleg Tkmu 
 
 beautiful polished flint chisel he had found on the 
 surface of a stubble field not a mile from Stewart's 
 house. Apropos of all this I thought of a subject 
 the other day for ' Punch,' but too grim, of an 
 Enthusiastic Pre-historical Antiquary boring an 
 invalid friend about his specimens. ' Invalid Friend 
 (gloomily) : I wish to goodness I could give you the 
 stone in my bladder ! ' 
 
 "November. — Is it possible? November, and 
 page 15! and I've not done yet. I received your 
 kind remembrance in the shape of the Newcastle 
 paper with the lecture in the midst of my hard work, 
 and I could not bear to send you a short note with 
 such a long bill due. The love of music (and the 
 pipes) is part of my life. That, ' chucky stanes ' will 
 never cure me of. I should like to have heard that 
 lecture. It touched me nearly where he spoke of 
 one going into a shop and asking for a reed ! I 
 could have spared many a greater man than poor 
 old James Reid. I am reedless. If you hear where 
 I can get some let me know. I send you a Scotch 
 slow march I'm very fond of, ' Lord Lovat's March.' 
 I wonder whether it was played at the obsequies 
 of that old Highland 'rip'? I also send you a 
 jeu a" esprit of Miles Foster's (Birket's eldest son), a 
 good musician and a humorous (any Londoner will 
 recognize the imitation), if they are worth a place in 
 your pretty music-book. Birket Foster was in the 
 North this autumn. I was very nearly going with 
 him but for the 'daily bread' exigency. He went 
 to your house to call on you but found it shut up. 
 
^Ttgtiounie Cottage 
 
 237 
 
 What jolly long holidays you get ! If ever I should 
 get months of leisure and liberty, I wonder if I shall 
 have the pluck to set about what I would if I had 
 them now — to draw horses and riders from life, to 
 make bagpipe reeds, and to find a place where I 
 could play the great pipes for six weeks without 
 being heard and finally conquer them. I've lots 
 more to say, but shall see how you are after this 
 enormous dose. I'm reading your friend Dr. Bruce's 
 'Wallet-book of the Roman Wall,' but has he not 
 written a larger book on the same subject ? A friend 
 got it for me from the London Library. Tell me all 
 about where you've been and what you've seen, and 
 excuse my long neglect (which shan't occur again) 
 and its inevitable consequence, this swollen epistle. 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 About this time we come upon what may be said, 
 I think, to be the only really disagreeable occurrence 
 with which it is necessary, in considering Keene's 
 life, to deal, and certainly much shall not here be said 
 about a matter which at the time produced a consider- 
 able amount of ill-feeling. Keene had gone abroad 
 with a friend to the south of France. As bad fortune 
 would have it, just at the same time " Tigbourne 
 Cottage " — which, it will be remembered, was rented 
 by Mr. Foster and sub-let by him to Keene — came 
 into the market for sale. A brother artist, with whom 
 Keene had for some time shared the cottage, took 
 the opportunity of buying it, as Keene considered, 
 
FROM THE OIL PAINTING BY SIR GEORGE REID, P.R.S.A. 
 
 In the possession of Mrs. Alexander Macdonald. 
 
 From the " Magazine of Art," by permission. 
 
239 
 
 behind his back. With or without reason, Keene 
 held that his former friend had taken unworthy 
 advantage of his absence, and forthwith broke with 
 him. He would never go near the place again, and 
 developed an almost morbid dislike for the man who, 
 he considered, had not acted straightforwardly. It 
 was characteristic of him never to trust again where 
 he believed he had once been deceived. As upright 
 a man as ever stepped himself, in some things he 
 may have been somewhat narrow-minded, and he 
 found it hard to believe that what failed to conform 
 with that which appeared to him to be rectitude of 
 conduct could be prompted by just motives. Sub- 
 sequently his visits to Witley were as a guest at the 
 house of Mr. Birket Foster or Mr. J. M. Stewart. 
 
 The succeeding year, 1877, he paid the first of 
 what proved to be a most enjoyable series of visits 
 to his friends, the Macdonalds, of Kepplestone, 
 Aberdeen. These were continued until 1884, in the 
 December of which year Mr. Macdonald died. Of 
 these visits he wrote regretfully, a year before his own 
 death, " I've had no holidays like those since then." 
 
 The following MS. was evidently written up from 
 time to time as a sort of journal as he moved from 
 place to place. 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 " Fly Leaves. 
 
 [July 13, 1877.] 
 " I had a very jolly trip to South Wales at Easter 
 time. I went with a friend, who is brother-in-law 
 
240 
 
 Cljarle0 l&eene 
 
 and agent to a Welsh squire and landowner down 
 there. We started by the night train and got to our 
 station just this side of Haverfordwest a little after 
 6 a.m. We had a carriage to ourselves, and I 
 slept as in a bed. We took a trap at the station 
 and drove nine miles to our little pub. (the Green 
 Bridge), Pendive, Caermarthen Bay, called so from 
 a little stream running into a hole in the limestone 
 rock just below the house, and coming out again on 
 the sea-shore a mile beyond. This was the most 
 luxurious little hostelry I was ever in. The land- 
 lord was a little bragging Welshman, and had been 
 coachman to the squire for many years and ' whip ' 
 to hounds in his youth, and his wife had been a maid 
 in the same family. My friend, who was the most 
 frequent ' traveller ' putting up there (barring the 
 neighbouring farmers who dropped in for a glass), 
 had by degrees made it the model inn on the estate. 
 The little rooms were papered by Morris and Co. 
 (W. Morris, the poet !), and baths in the bedrooms. 
 We got here about 7.30 and found a capital break- 
 fast, to which, after a wash, we did justice. I think 
 the sort of country would have pleased you — a series 
 of hills, heaths swarming with rabbits, with gorges 
 between, 'dingles' they call them, with streams at 
 the bottom running into the sea about a mile off. 
 ' Plenty of watter here, sir, whatever ! ' the little land- 
 lord said to me. Any earnest piscator might make 
 this a paradise for anglers by stocking the streams, 
 and a little care. In the Tawe, close by, the lordly 
 salmon disports ; but they seemed to me to take the 
 
241 
 
 trout too small — very nice to eat but too near in 
 size to a sardine. I went about with my friend on 
 his visits to the farmers, now walking and then 
 driving in the bailiff's trap. The latter was a tall 
 Devonshire man, with the dialect strong, though he'd 
 been in Wales the best part of his life ! But I took 
 to these Welsh Britons very much. There was one 
 splendid old fellow, a quarryman and stonemason, 
 who lived in the merest hovel on the beach under 
 the rocks, who made the gravestones for that country 
 side and composed the verses thereon himself — 
 those for children inspired his best lines — and an 
 enthusiast on the violoncello ! He told me a long 
 story about a fiddle he had that had been left by one 
 of the French prisoners (who on landing at Milford 
 were taken and lodged for the night in Haverford- 
 west church). We drove one day down the coast 
 to the ' Coggan ' cave that I wanted to see. It was 
 on the face of a cliff, and to me, unused to giddy 
 heights and precipices, seemed of rather uneasy 
 access. We had to creep in on our bellies, but I felt 
 a thrill of pleasure in being for the first time in a 
 hyaena's den ! The cave is of great extent laterally, 
 for in most of it you can't stand upright, and the 
 stalagmite floor is broken through in one or two 
 places, and we set to work grubbing. The earth is 
 full of bones, and we soon got a basketful. The 
 practical Devonshire bailiff suggested to the farmers 
 (one or two came in with us) that they should get 
 some of this mould and put it on their land, but they 
 did not seem to heed him. The country about here 
 
 R 
 
242 
 
 Cljarleg ^cene 
 
 must have been populous in early times — no end 
 of ' dolmens ' and barrows. One of these farmers 
 showed us a place on one of his fields where last 
 year his ploughmen came upon a long line of inter- 
 ments — stone chambers with skeletons enclosed. 
 They dug them up and laid the long slabs flat and 
 went on with their operations. We saw the surface 
 of the field strewn with the fragments of these bones. 
 How Canon Greenwell would have objurgated at 
 this recital ! You might tell his Reverence, if he 
 ever goes so far for change of air, of this little ' Green 
 Bridee ' hotel. Youno- Garrod, F.R.S., Professor of 
 Zoology, has my bones, and is going to label them 
 for me. He thought at first glance they were bones 
 of hyaena, bear, and horse. These hyaenas must 
 have been awfully powerful beasts, from the thick- 
 ness of the bones they had split. It's interesting to 
 see the marks of their teeth as they had gnawed 
 them ! On one of our rides we strolled into a country 
 churchyard, and, on one of the stones of a flight of 
 steps to a raised part, we found some Ogham writing. 
 We told the parson, who from the cut of his coat 
 and hat looked a little ' high,' and he was quite 
 excited with surprise and delight — 1 would have it 
 taken up to-morrow !' We broke our journey back 
 at Gloucester, went to service at the cathedral (not 
 such a good quire as Durham) and looked in at the 
 curio shop in the city, and 'so home.' I regretted I 
 did not take my great pipes with me ; I could have 
 made good practice at the ' Green Bridge.' I've 
 promised to take them the next time ; they'd sound 
 
243 
 
 well in a dingle! I'm working hard at ' Macpher- 
 son's Lament,' have taken to it the more since you 
 mentioned it. When I spoke of it to Munro, my 
 preceptor, he remembered it as a Gaelic song, and 
 began wagging his head and humming it ; 'it was 
 pleasant to see ! ' 
 
 " May 19th, Witley. 
 " I've run down here for a few days to stay with 
 Stewart, but I have to work all day, which is rather 
 trying with the glint of the spring verdure catching 
 my eye through the window, but the hope of getting 
 ahead, so as to take a week or two at the end of June 
 to go and see Stevenson, if he is in Argyllshire, will 
 keep me to it. So you've taken to your old haunts 
 by Coquet this year, but I hope you'll fill a sketch- 
 book all the same. It was not that I did not appre- 
 ciate the quips and cranks in those you lent me that 
 I did not crib more profusely from the mine. If you 
 don't mind, I should like to cut and come again. 
 Many thanks for thinking of me in sending me Dr. 
 Bruce's portrait. I shall mount it as frontispiece in 
 his book of the Wall. I picked up a whacking great 
 folio scrap-book the other day that I shall take great 
 pleasure in filling, but it's a weighty tome ! 
 
 "June 22nd. 
 
 " What glorious weather we've had here lately, I 
 hope you've been equally lucky, but Stewart tells me 
 it's not good for trout-fishing till evening. He said 
 he killed about eight or ten the other evening at our 
 pond at Witley, from a pound to a pound and a half 
 each ! 
 
244 
 
 Cljacleg l&ecne 
 
 " I often fancy when I'm there how amused you'd 
 be, who are used to the rocky rushing streams of 
 the North, but the trouts therein are not to be 
 despised. I saw Stevenson the other day and was 
 to have met him at dinner at his brother's, but he 
 was unwell and did not come, and when I called on 
 him the next day he had gone back to Tynemouth. 
 I'm in hopes of getting away for my holiday in about 
 three weeks. I shall first go to Aberdeen by boat 
 and stay a week with a friend there, and from there 
 make my way across country to Argyleshire, stay 
 with Stevenson a week or so, and then back. I'm 
 afraid I shall be in a hurry back, or else I should like 
 to break my journey at Newcastle and have a day 
 with you and see the Coquet. If I can get away and 
 have time, I will. Let me know at what time you 
 will be in London this autumn, when you bring your 
 lad to the university. Have you settled on his 
 domicile ? When I mentioned about this to my 
 friend Haydon, 1 he asked me if I thought he was a 
 studious lad (Haydon has a son who goes to King's 
 College), as he would like to take and board him, and 
 the two boys could study together of an evening. 
 He lives in a beautiful house in the grounds at 
 Bethlehem Hospital, Southwark (but quite detached), 
 I fancy he would be very comfortable there, but 
 you will judge best. I also have a friend who lives 
 in Gower Street, close to University College, an 
 artist, Davis Cooper, the son of old Abraham Cooper r 
 
 1 The late Mr. G. H. Haydon, Steward of the Bethlehem 
 Hospital, Lambeth Road. 
 
Si d5nte0ome »)tocp 
 
 R.A. I know he has often pupils who live in his 
 house, but perhaps while the lad is studying it would 
 be better he was apart from art distraction. J, D; 
 Watson was a pupil of Davis Cooper, and most 
 people in the artistic world know him. But if I can 
 help you beforehand in any way in this matter, 
 command me, and I mean to be in town when you 
 come, ' whate'er betide.' My two fishing friends, 
 Haydon, the Devonshire man, and Stannus, the 
 Irishman, have never met, and they are coming to 
 my studio some night next week, and a rare ' fishy ' 
 evening we shall have, I expect. 'When Greek meets 
 Greek.' We shall drink your health in some prime 
 whisky that was sent me from Aberdeen, Christmas 
 1876 ! which is not finished yet. A similar case from 
 the same district that came this Christmas, 1877, 1 I 
 have not opened yet ! Chelsea is rather an out-of-the- 
 way place, and I have not many evening callers. 
 I've just heard an American story. Some one met 
 a large party of Americans journeying West across 
 the prairies to found a colony, several families, all 
 ages, men, women, and children, but amongst them a 
 very old man, ' ninety odd.' The stranger expostu- 
 lated with the pilgrims : ' Whatever did you bring him 
 for on such a journey, poor old fellow ! on the brink of 
 the grave ? What good can he be in a new colony ? 
 * Waal, yes, he can, stranger,' they replied ; ' guess 
 we'll start the cemetery with him ! ! ' 
 
 " Item : Conundrum invented the other day by a 
 
 1 There seems to be some confusion of dates here difficult to 
 reconcile, but not of importance. 
 
246 
 
 Cfjarled l&eene 
 
 friend, supposed to be asked by one ' half seas over.' 
 — * Whish of the English Kingsh make the best 
 chiropodist ? ' Ans : ' Will'am Corn Currer ! ' 
 
 [July 13M.] 
 
 " Hawkwell, Essex. 
 
 " Ran down here for a day or two with two other 
 
 artists on a visit to the Rector. A quiet little place 
 
 when they are not practising with the Woolwich 
 
 Infant at Shoeburyness, six miles off, when I think 
 
 the parson has to open his windows for fear they 
 
 should be smashed. Two or three gunners were 
 
 here last night, and whist set in fiercely. Just before 
 
 I started, I had a telegram from Alec Stevenson, and 
 
 I think I shall start for the North next week as soon 
 
 as I can, so I must make an end of this voluminous 
 
 letter. 
 
 " We had the evening with the two anglers. They 
 went at it tooth and nail for an hour or so till I pro- 
 posed a diversion, and we sat down to ' Spoil five.' 
 Haydon gave the Irishman his killing minnow, his 
 own invention and manufacture (out of a stair-rod I 
 think). The former has started for Brittany and the 
 latter. I believe, fishes this year in the home circuit. 
 Haydon hopes he may meet you when you come to 
 town. I think I shall start for the North next 
 Thursday or Friday (19th or 20th). Shall make my 
 way to ' Alexr. Stevenson, Auchineilan by Lochgilp- 
 head, Argyleshire,' shall be there a week or ten days, 
 and then 'Alexr. Macdonald, Kepplestone, Aberdeen,' 
 for another week, and so home by steamer. If you 
 should be coming to town directly drop me a 
 
247 
 
 card. When you come, will you bring the packet 
 of music ? It will solace me in the empty season in 
 London. I had a present of a beautiful little leaf- 
 shaped flint from a friend who found it at Reigate. 
 I called the other night on an old friend of mine, the 
 most ardent ' trouter ' I know on this side ' Coquet,-' 
 G. H. Haydon. You ought to know him. He is a 
 great admirer of yours. ' The Fisher's Garland ' is 
 his most cherished book — I lent him the ' Book of 
 Angling.' I'll show you some day his letter and 
 criticism on returning it. He's a very good amateur 
 artist and collector like you and I. It was a curious 
 coincidence, — he showed me a little idol in his cabinet, r 
 being a presentment of his satanic majesty in an 
 attitude of exhortation fashioned out of a horse's 
 vertebra ! and the next morning came your little 
 present. Haydon, when a youth, went to Australia 
 to make his fortune, and first explored the country 
 between Gipp's Land and Melbourne before the 
 latter 'was,' (I saw this mentioned in a ' History of 
 the Colony ' I was reading), and during this journey 
 he lost a little twopenny diary in the bush, and 
 thought no more about it (this was in 183 — something, 
 I believe). About a year ago somebody sent him 
 the little book with a series of memoranda such as — 
 
 ' Found by the blacks who gave it to , who died, 
 
 and it came into the possession of So-and-so, etc., etc.,' 
 enclosed with two prints from the Australian ' Illus- 
 trated' of Melbourne in 183 — from a sketch by Mr. 
 Haydon (he left lots of sketches in the colony), and 
 one of Melbourne in 1876! He has this curious 
 
248 
 
 Cljarleg l&eene 
 
 relic and its credentials framed in his sanctum. 
 He told me he met an old gentleman from the North 
 the other day at dinner (his name was Harvey, I 
 think), who said he knew you. He told me he has 
 the finest trout-fishing in England in a two hours' 
 railway journey from his chair; I fancy it's in Hamp- 
 shire. He had Westwood's little book that you gave 
 •me in his book-case. I enclose for your scrap-book a 
 jeu d 'esprit, by my friend H. S. Marks, A.R.A., a 
 parody on a popular ballad. He sings it when there 
 are no R.A.'s present. He does not want it to appear 
 in print, so don't let any ' chiel ' take notes of it. 
 - " The village post is just going off, so I must break 
 off without finishing this sheet. I'll make notes in 
 my travels. With kindest regards to Mrs. Crawhall 
 and your daughters, 
 
 " I am, 
 
 " Yours ever sincerely, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 THE ACADEMY ELECTION, 1877. 
 
 To the tune of " The Two Obadiahs." 
 1. 
 
 Said a young Academician to an old Academician, 
 
 "An election, sir, is coming on to-night." 
 
 Said the old Academician to the young Academician, 
 
 That fact I had forgotten almost quite. 
 Yet sorry should I be were I absent from the fray, 
 So when I've wrapped up warmly will be off to the R.A., 
 And we'll take a cab together for which I will let you pay." 
 Said the young Academician, "I am on ! " 
 
Cije aca&emp Clecttott 
 
 249 
 
 2. 
 
 Said the old Academician to the 'young Academician, 1 
 "Can you tell me now about the likely men?" • 
 Said the young Academician to the old Academician, 
 "I should think there must at least be eight or ten, ■ 
 There's Fildes, J. Archer, Holl, Riviere, John Brett, and ■ Marcus 
 Stone, 7 
 Peter Graham, Morris, Prinsep, all of them well known : ; " ; 
 Young Ouless, too, for portraiture some aptitude* has shown." " 
 Said the old Academician, " So he has ! " 
 
 3 (/;/ the Cab). 
 Said the young Academician to the old Academician, 
 " Let me whisper in your ear my little plan." 
 Said the old Academician to the young Academician, 
 After cogitating deeply, " I'm your man ! 
 But supposing on the Ballot now they should our man reject, 
 May I ask do you imagine, or should rather say expect, 
 With a Sculptor they'll come over us or p'rhaps an Architect ? " 
 Said the young Academician, " That be d d ! " 
 
 4 (In the Council-rooni). 
 
 Said the old Academician to the young Academician, 
 
 " A very good assemblage here to-night ! " 
 
 Said the young Academician to the old Academician, 
 
 " Let us hope, old man, the voting will go right." 
 
 The papers then were handed round, to every man who came, 
 
 But our ancient friend forgot to sign his highly honoured name ; 
 
 His vote was lost, his paper torn, to his dismay and shame. 
 
 The young Academician spoke of eyes ! ! 
 
 5 {After the Election). 
 
 Said the old Academician to the young Academician, 
 (i Well, I think upon the whole, we may be glad." 
 Said the young Academician to the old Academician, 
 "Yes, I told you Walter Ouless was the lad. 
 For he's not the boy to be puffed up by aught that people say, 
 But he'll take his honours quietly, and you'll never see the day 
 When he will shirk his work because we've made him A.R.A." 
 Said the old Academician, " Dear, dear me ! " 
 
250 
 
 Cljarles l&eene 
 
 6. 
 
 Said the old Academician to the young Academician, 
 
 " I should like to hear your views on Peter Graham ! " 
 
 Said the young Academician to the old Academician, 
 
 " That he wasn't in before's a burning shame ! 
 
 Though I wouldn't hint for worlds the Academy's not right, 
 
 Yet Peter on the Ballot's been ten times before to-night ; 
 
 So I for one shake hands with him, he's made a gallant fight." 
 
 " Said the old Academician, " So I think." 
 
 7- 
 
 Said the old Academician to the young Academician, 
 " Now tell me what you think of Marcus Stone ? " 
 Said the young Academician to the old Academician, 
 "That that's an act of justice all will own. 
 
 For seventeen years, or thereabouts, on the line his work you've 
 shown, 
 
 Perspective, Drawing, both correct, his colour good in tone, 
 So let's drink the healths of Ouless, Peter Graham, and Marcus 
 Stone." 
 
 Said the old Academician, " We will drink !" 
 
 8 {Moral). 
 
 There are old Academicians, there are young Academicians, 
 
 There are middle-aged Associates as well ; 
 
 But the old Academicians so much like their warm positions, 
 
 That they never will retire. What a sell ! 
 
 Yet we could mention one or two who've had an innings fair, 
 
 Who now with grace might well vacate the Academic chair. 
 
 Then quickly with Associates their loss we might repair, 
 
 Say the old Academicians, " Not so green ! " 
 
 I have Mr. Stacy Marks' permission to print 
 what, at that time, he preferred should not be made 
 public. Time has proved verse 2 to be curiously 
 prophetic, every one of the " likely men," excepting 
 Archer, therein mentioned, having since been 
 gathered into " the Academic Fold." 
 
1&epple0tone 
 
 251 
 
 To Joseph Craw ha 11, Esq. 
 
 "A. Macdonald's, 
 
 " Kepplestone, 
 
 " Aberdeen. 
 
 [A ugust 6th, 1877.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I started for the Highlands on the evening of 
 last Thursday week, and somehow got to Stevenson's 
 shieling by Loch Awe, on the following day. I 
 stayed there for ten days and had a very pleasant 
 time. I had read in Buchanan's 4 Land of Lome,' 
 that you must look for rain in Argyleshire, and was 
 not disappointed. It poured, more or less, the whole 
 time. Now and then, during an hour or so's inter- 
 mittence, we rushed out with the ladies and had a 
 bout at lawn tennis ; otherwise, you could not stir 
 out but in waterproofs and sou'westers. I had an 
 afternoon with Stevenson on a hill Loch, and tried 
 to fish with a fly from a boat, but I was afraid of 
 flicking my line into my host's eye, so soon gave up 
 and watched him. I must learn the trick by myself 
 from a bank, and ware ! bystanders ! This house is 
 delightfully placed, overlooking a little loch (Edolin), 
 but this is full of pike like Loch Awe. This fish of 
 prey was introduced by a former Duke of Breadal- 
 bane, and cannot be got rid of. All the people 
 about his place are Campbells, and it is curious, 
 showing the tenacity of clan hatred : Stevenson's 
 keeper and head bottle-washer is a Duncan Mac- 
 gregor (and a very good fellow), and the people will 
 
252 
 
 Carles* Tknnt 
 
 hardly speak to him, therefore, and never miss an 
 opportunity of maligning him ! 
 
 " I should much have liked to have had a day or 
 so with you, but my holiday wanes, and I had put 
 off my arranged Aberdeen visit to go to Stevenson's 
 first, and did not like to disappoint my friend here 
 any longer. I had a great difficulty in getting away 
 from Auchineilan, as my friends the Fosters were 
 staying another week, and I must start home (by 
 boat), next Saturday. Let me know when you are 
 coming to town. I took my great Pipes to Argyle- 
 shire (coals to Newcastle), and practised to my 
 heart's content, and my friend here who lives in the 
 suburbs of Bon Accord, has a large garden, in the 
 remote parts of which I strut and skirl. There is a 
 sort of Pipers coming there this evening, to play for 
 my delectation. I protested, but my host would not 
 be denied, and, what's more, they are three of his 
 workmen who are out on strike! Directly I left 
 Auchincalan the weather began to mend and I 
 started from Crinan by steamer for Oban and Fort 
 William, and had a glorious day, slept at latter place 
 and went by coach the next morning to Kingussie, 
 by Ben Nevis and Lochaber and Badenoch, and for 
 a long way by the river Spean, which looked to me 
 a model river for an angler or artist. If you don't 
 know it, I would recommend you to see it ! It's open 
 fishing I heard! To-morrow I'm going up the Don 
 for a day, may try with rod and fly again. I'm 
 bound to go to Suffolk for a week when I get back, 
 and then my leave is over, and then the grindstone 
 
253 
 
 again. With kindest regards to Mrs. Crawhall and 
 all yours, 
 
 " I am, yours sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 " I am delighted to hear of the music-book." 
 
 Of lawn tennis, on another occasion, he writes : 
 " You should go in for this pastime ; good for liver, 
 I should think. It suits me. I like a game that 
 stretches the muscles thoroughly, or else one of utter 
 physical quiet, such as chess. A dawdling sort of 
 game sends me to sleep. Billiards makes me yawn, 
 but I forgot, you are a fisherman — that's a ' different 
 thing.' " 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Aug, 18, 1877.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I got back from Aberdeen last Monday by 
 steamer and found your welcome letter, and the books, 
 etc., came safe the next day. I was delighted to see 
 your sketches again. I'm not flattering when I say that 
 the fun and the strong 'Old Masterish' quality in the 
 studies and landscapes ' fetch ' me entirely. I enjoyed 
 a very pleasant three weeks in Scotland, and I had a 
 warm welcome from my friends, but the weather 
 was passing cold and inclement. I shall be delighted 
 if I can come to the Pipe Congress and see you, but 
 please don't put me on the dais. I have never sat 
 in judgment of any kind in my life, have a horror of 
 
254 
 
 Cljarlea Ikeene 
 
 it ! perhaps morbid. I've had a look at the Bewick 
 music ; there does not seem to be much that 
 we've not got — the good stuff, I mean. Item — I 
 don't think the brass drone reeds are an improve- 
 ment on the primitive ' elder ' tubes, but a chanter 
 reed maker would be a godsend ! 
 
 " If you are writing to Chappell, mention me. I 
 met him some time ago and took to him much. 
 I fancy he is one of our sort about music. I 
 furnished him with that fine tune of Admiral 
 Benbow (' Come all you Sailors bold,') that he 
 used in his book — look at it if you don't know it — ■ 
 it has the fine salt flavour of those in your book 
 
 (<Capt n . Bover,' and the ' Cutter'). I fancy, if 
 
 he doesn't know them, Chappell will be ' fetched ' 
 by some of yours. I'm frantically at work with a 
 view to have a few days in Suffolk, so I'll finish this 
 letter when I get there. The friend I'm o- 0 ino- to 
 is an invalid, and turns in early, which I can't, 
 and so have a good opportunity for letter-writing. 
 I suppose you will hail from Roth bury for a week or 
 so long-er. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " Dunwich, Suffolk, 
 
 "Monday, 27 August [1877]. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " My host has just turned in, but I'm wide 
 awake (this sea air of my native country makes me 
 
255 
 
 snoozy sometimes in the day, and I had forty winks 
 on the shingle this afternoon), so I'll just jot down 
 an idea or two. I suppose the lists won't be closed 
 before I get to town, as I should like to send you a 
 guinea towards the Pipe prizes — on condition I'm 
 not made a judge. I suppose the competition won't 
 be in Christmas week, when I'm generally down in 
 Surrey, and I should like to come very much if I 
 can. Did you see an advertisement or review of a 
 book of North Co. (Banff) tunes in the 'Academy' 
 or ' Athenaeum,' published in Edinburgh ? I shall 
 try and get a look at it when I get back. There 
 is a book of Pipe-music I wanted to get, published 
 by Gunn, of Glasgow, a Highland pipe-maker. I 
 asked at a little music-shop at Aberdeen (the man 
 repairs pipes, etc.), and he told me it was out of 
 print, that Gunn was dead and his executors wanted 
 money for the copyright, which was not forthcoming, 
 and the book was scarce, etc., etc. So I gave up 
 hopes ; but I happened to mention this to my friend 
 and host, Macdonald, and he pulled up at the swell 
 bookseller's in Aberdeen and insisted on calling the 
 proprietor out (we were in his trap), in spite of my 
 protest that it was useless to inquire if he had the 
 collection. He said he 'did not know of it, but would 
 inquire.' Macdonald writes to me that he has got it, 
 and is sending it on ! If it is the book I wanted 
 (I'm not so sure) I shall be ashamed of my inactivity. 
 I hope you will get acquainted with Chappell. Why 
 not ask him to be one of the judges in the Pipe 
 contest ? If I were you I should insist that the 
 
256 
 
 Cfjarleg Ikttm 
 
 compositions to be played for the prize should be 
 native tunes, not pieces out of modern operas that 
 they are rather fond of showing off in. I think you 
 are right in not wishing your boy to be diverted in 
 the Art direction yet. I think I told you I went by 
 coach from Fort William to Kingussie, through 
 Lochaber and Badenoch, — that must be somewhere 
 near your quarters. Have you fished in the river 
 Spean ? It looked to me a most ' likely ' stream and 
 a picturesque. I remember wondering as I passed 
 by it if your Coquet was anything like it. I flicked 
 a fishing line about one day with Stevenson on a 
 loch, but was afraid of hooking him, so I gave it up 
 till I'd had a little practice by myself from a bank. 
 When I was at Aberdeen I went for a day to stay 
 with his partner up the Don. The fish were not on 
 in this river, but I caught two trouts in a loch — ' tell 
 it not in Gath !' — with a worm ! That's not the right 
 sort of thing, is it ? This Dunwich is a curious little 
 place, but interesting. All along at the base of the 
 sandy cliff (striped with layers of rolled pebbles) you 
 come upon human bones that have dropped from the 
 shallow alluvial soil at the top. The land is sinking 
 all along this coast, and a great city that flourished 
 in Saxon times and was decaying at the Norman 
 Conquest lies miles under the sea. There is one 
 ruined church left just at the edge of the cliff. I 
 believe 'the oldest inhabitant' can just remember 
 when it was used for service, but its only congrega- 
 tion now is the owls and bats ! Some of the cliff 
 has fallen away lately and disclosed the shaft of a 
 
^t)e J£ipe Content 
 
 257 
 
 well. The bricks look to me Roman, but nothing 
 has been found. There is a good lot of it, and it 
 looks likely to fall, so one gives it a wide berth. 
 The green marshes at the back of the place are 
 dotted with the fine cows and sorrel horses that 
 this county is famous for. ' Cows and churches ' is 
 the motto at the head of ' Suffolk ' in old Fuller's 
 ' Worthies/ My big pipes are 'going' well just now 
 from the practice I've had in my holiday, and so 
 secluded is this place, that at any time two or three 
 hundred yards down the beach I can strut on the 
 hard sand and skirl away at ' Fingal's Lament ' or 
 * The Massacre of Glencoe ' (my favourite pibroch), 
 out of earshot of a soul. I shall find the book, I 
 daresay, when I get back, and will write again. With 
 kindest regards to you and yours, 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 The Pipe contest mentioned in the above letter 
 was promoted in Newcastle, to keep alive a taste for 
 the Northumbrian small pipes, by Dr. Bruce (author 
 of the " History of the Roman Wall," father of Mr. 
 Gainsford Bruce, Q.C.), Mr. Crawhall, and a few 
 others. Prizes were offered to the best players. 
 Keene took great interest in it, went to Newcastle 
 on purpose for it, and was asked to act as judge, but 
 from diffidence declined. 
 
 To Alexander Macdonald, Esq. 
 
 <; Witley, Surrey, 6 Oct. '77. 
 
 " Dear Macdonald, 
 
 " Many thanks for the book of tunes, which I 
 
258 
 
 Cljarlcs beetle 
 
 shall value the more from the way I have got it, 
 which illustrates the contrast between your stirring 
 enterprise and my unreadiness. I had been told the 
 book was out of print and not to be had., and gave 
 up the game. You insisted on making inquiry at 
 what I thought the unlikeliest place, and here it 
 turned up ! 
 
 " I want to get a tune mentioned in ' Old Mor- 
 tality ' or 'Heart of Midlothian.' I think there's a 
 piper who speaks of ' Torphichen's Rant ' as the best 
 tune that ever chanter breathed. I want to get it I 
 That was a capital story you sent me of the Indian 
 Major, who was surprised at 'that thing going on 
 still ' ; but I must wait till Parliament meets. 
 
 "We have a short spell of real summer weather, 
 and I blow away on the pipes in the gloaming round 
 my friend's garden, but it is not in such comfortable 
 solitude as on the sea-shore in Suffolk, for when I 
 leave off I hear a murmur from a lot of Surrey 
 'joskins ' from the other side of the hedge. . . . At 
 Dunwich there was an old literate who had the only 
 lodging in the place, a great friend of Tennyson's 
 and of poor Thackeray's, and quite a character — an 
 Irishman, an author and bookworm, and who re- 
 members Kean and the Kembles and Liston, and 
 full of talk about old times and ' dead and gone ' 
 people. We met every evening and talked belles 
 lettres, ' Shakespeare and the musical glasses,' till 
 midnight. . . . 
 
 " I don't think I dare use that last joke you sent 
 me. I had one of the same sort of a Scotch visitor 
 
259 
 
 going over Waterloo Bridge, ' Na, na' (said the Scot, 
 paying the two halfpennies), ' ye've been stannin' 
 treat a' the day, it's ma turn noo ! ' 
 
 " Yrs. very sincerely, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 n, Queen's Road West, 
 Chelsea. 
 
 \_November gi/i, 1877.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I just snatch half-an-hour from work to jot 
 you a line. In the first place to thank you for the 
 sketches which I shall prize very much. I could 
 'go on ' at length on this subject, but we will talk 
 when we meet. I agree with you, and it is not 
 otherwise than a compliment, that the original land- 
 scapes in the little books (done from nature, I imagine, 
 or more so than less) are difficult to do over again in 
 the studio. Some of these little gems are mine ! 
 that is, that, though they are in your mere possession, 
 they belong to me. Some of my most valued works 
 of art I don't keep myself ; some are in Trafalgar 
 Square and Hampton Court, and all sorts of places. 
 Don't give them away ! You should have them 
 framed in sets with a trout in the centre. You will 
 see what a boon the jokes have been to me. There 
 is one I like, of a bumptious Paisley man, but you 
 have not indicated a Paisley brogue in the 'legend.' 
 Wouldn't he have a twang ? 
 
260 
 
 Cljailes l&eene 
 
 " I send you a P.O. order for a guinea to the Pipe 
 fund. You must humour me in this, if I am not too 
 late, and I want half-a-dozen copies of the ' Border 
 Tunes.' 
 
 " As the year is on the wane, perhaps it would be 
 as well to wait and join the Anti- Restoration Society 
 in January next, but that's as you like. Verb. sap. 
 
 " Did I send you a copy of my friend Sands' ' Out 
 of the World or Life at St. Kilda' ? I've just got 
 some copies of a new edition and, if you have not got 
 it, should like to send you one. 
 
 " I suppose this balmy weather foreshadows an 
 Arctic Christmas. 
 
 " With kindest regards, 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 Keene did subsequently join the "Anti-Restoration 
 Society." 
 
 " You show a good front," he writes to Mr. Craw- 
 hall on November 30, 1878, "in the papers you sent 
 me about the Leaguer of the old Tower. Oh ! that 
 it should have withstood the Scots in days of yore, 
 and old Time since, and be levelled at last by a lot of 
 Radical pedlars and money-grubbers, most likely not 
 descendants of those it defended in the old time. 
 Make ballads of 'em and set them to ' filthy tunes.' 1 
 There is one man, by the bye, who writes about restor- 
 ing it to its Edwardian, etc. We have to guard 
 against these quack-salvers as well." 
 
 1 Vide Shakespeare, 1 Henry IV., ii. 2. 
 
A FIRESIDE REVERIE 
 
PRELIMINARY STUDY FOR "A FIRESIDE REVERIE," q.V. 
 
262 
 
 Cljarleg Iteene 
 
 To J. M. Stewart, Esq. 
 
 u ii, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [i8 7 7-] 
 
 " Dear Jack, 
 
 " I was very sorry I was out that day you called. 
 I went to Puttick's to try and get a book of old wood- 
 cuts, but it went above my figure. I fancied I saw 
 you in the distance from the top of a ' 'bus.' I sat 
 next to Britton Riviere at the Lord Mayor's dinner. 
 I did not know who my neighbour was, but he intro- 
 duced himself to me, and I took to him very much. 
 Next to him sat young Richmond. On my other 
 side was a citizen. I dined with Macdonald from 
 Aberdeen on the Friday, met Millais, Faed, Pettie, 
 and some other North Britons. On Monday I went 
 to lunch at Millais' and admired his eldest daughter 
 (the original of the girl with the eggs, only prettier) 
 and his pictures. He is painting three companion 
 pictures for the next Academy. The old Beefeater 
 is finished nearly, — splendidly painted. I believe 
 Ingram has bought them, and is going to have them 
 colour-printed for the ' News ' at Christmas, and he 
 had several other portraits. He was very jolly. 
 Last Thursday I dined with Wells, same party, with 
 Calderon, Tadema, Hodgson, and Armstead. Boyce 
 was not there. On Monday I'm going to dine at J. 
 Stevenson's, and am pretty nearly sick of it! Have 
 you heard how Mrs. F. likes Margate ? Many thanks 
 for the stick. It has been much admired. A. Cooper 
 is going to pot luck with me at the ' Arts ' to-day, 
 
Coatd of 8cm0 
 
 263 
 
 and I shall call at Edwards' to hear how he is. He 
 went off to Whitby and wants me to join him, but I 
 don't fancy the place. I'm going with Cooper to see 
 Miss Thompson's picture and Hunt's to-day." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea, 
 
 {March 28th, 1878.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " What a dilatory rogue of a correspondent you 
 must think me, or I ought to say I am ! — but I've had 
 an instinct that you've been very busy with the Art 
 scheme, and I've a bad habit in the lull after work 
 when I ought to be writing of reaching down my 
 guitar and having a twang or a blow on the practice- 
 stick, but now I must seriously demonstrate to you 
 that it is not the same case with you and I as 
 with your friend Westwood. We've not written 
 ourselves out! I feel a qualm and mutter a 
 ' forfend ' when I think of that ! I shall pack up 
 that parcel to-morrow. I hope you won't be bored 
 by my sending it. It came across my mind as I 
 know you are rather surfeited with books, but they 
 are exceptional and are so suggestive in the pot line. 
 Enclosed you will find the two coats, mine (i.e., the 
 Sparrows') and M.'s, both drawn by him. If ever you 
 do them on a plate you'll have to expand the ' Mant- 
 ling.' And you are nearer your moving, which is 
 another reason against sending them, but you can 
 keep them together, and the angling season is coming 
 on (another), but I'm not in a hurry for them. I 
 
264 
 
 Cljarles l&eene 
 
 should like to give you the Purcell if you will have 
 it. While I think of it, might I ask you to send 
 an ' invitory ' (!) circular to ' A. Cooper, 7, Belmont 
 Villas, Twickenham.' — (a son of old Abraham Cooper, 
 R. A., and an old friend of mine and Birket Foster's), 
 and another to 'Wilfred Lawson, 11, Queen's Road 
 West, Chelsea.' He has the studio over me, has a 
 picture nobly hung at Edinburgh now, — a very clever 
 fellow and no relation to the arch teetotaller. I am 
 much obliged to you for sending one to my friend 
 Stannus, the Irish angler. Won't this Exhibition in 
 August interrupt your summer holiday? I'm afraid 
 I shall not be able to respond to the invitation to 
 send something. A couple of frames of my ' Punch ' 
 sketches have gone to Paris, sent by a friend of 
 mine, and I'll back them to be the cheekiest speci- 
 mens of art in the whole International. I could not 
 have had the face to send them myself. Alec. 
 Stevenson is making a longish stay here. . . . He 
 has bought a picture and a suit of Japanese armour! 
 He was telling me he thought you were going 
 to part with some of your books. That makes me 
 shudder. Have you any sixteenth or seventeenth 
 century Herbals ? I've picked a good many at times 
 and so has my friend Boyce. We had a herbal 
 evening the other night at his house, he and I, and a 
 day or two afterwards I came across five folios of 
 'em at a sale, made a bid and got 'em, including a 
 Petrarch (woodcuts) and a whacking Boyer's French 
 Dictionary for ^"4 ; so I've formally made known 
 to Boyce that I give in, and leave the field open to 
 
jfitjjyecalti 
 
 265 
 
 him for the future ! I wonder if I shall be able to 
 resist the temptation again. Big and little, I've got 
 fifteen vols, of 'em ! 
 
 " I send you a Biography in little of poor Charles 
 Lamb to stick in any Life or Works of his you may 
 have. He was always a favourite of mine. The now- 
 aday critics pooh pooh him. They be d d ! It 
 
 was made by an old Literate and scholar, a friend of 
 mine. He was at college with Tennyson and 
 Thackeray, and is quite one of our kidney. I wish 
 you knew him, so much so I can't help sending you 
 his letter about the pamphlet. I hope this won't bore 
 you ! He lives at Woodbridge in Suffolk, and I hear 
 has just bought some land on the skirts of the little 
 town, to save a windmill thereon, that otherwise 
 would have been pulled down. Doesn't that show 
 him to be one of the right sort ? I shall not expect 
 an answer to this for a longtime, as I know you must 
 be very busy, but when you next write don't forget 
 the account of the Bewick lithograph, as I want to 
 paste it on the back of the frame. I mean to crow 
 over Boyce with this Bewick. He is a great admirer 
 of the artist, and has a lot of proofs and a block or 
 two given him — I think by Barnes of Durham. I got 
 a good pocketful of scrapers from Canon Greenwell's 
 collection in the keeping of his friend Lord Rosehill. 
 I am writing the Canon a letter — (slow but sure). 
 Lord R. has a fine collection, was a jolly sort of fellow, 
 and gave me one or two specimens of his abundance. 
 Much obliged for the last song you sent me. There 
 are several melodies that I should like to suggest to 
 
266 
 
 Cljarleg l&eene 
 
 you, but just at this minute can't recall them, — will jot 
 them down to-morrow. 
 
 " Friday, 2gtA. — I refreshed my memory with a look 
 at Chappell last night, and also Rimbault's ' Music to 
 the Percy Relics.' You ought to have the latter if 
 you haven't it. There's a song in it, I don't know 
 whether it's in Chappell, ' How now, Shepherd : 
 what means that — why wear'st thou Willow in thy 
 Hat ? ' that you would like, I think, and several 
 others. You ought to do a ' Sir Toby Belch ' mug 
 with one of his catches on it, with diamoad-headed 
 notes, would look pretty. ' Hold thy peace, thou 
 knave,' for instance, — I have a copy of it, three lines 
 of two bars. There's a tune in Chappell I would 
 recommend to you, ' Light o' Love.' Sing it to the 
 tune of ' Light o' Love,' Shakes 6 . It has not an 
 antient character and is so flowing and modern ; 
 Mozart might have composed it, and it suggests a 
 love song. Try it on the whistle. 
 
 " Saturday. — I'm sweating hard at the 'Reel of 
 Tulloch,' and shall not die content if I can't play a 
 reel for Young'uns to dance to. I shall call on 
 Stevenson to-day and hear how the mistress is. 
 Saturday's an off-day with me when I have certain 
 duties, — a letter to poor Stewart and correspondence 
 generally and a couple of hours in the afternoon play- . 
 ing Tric-trac with the hermit Montagu, and in the 
 evening hallooing of anthems, etc., in the Man Song 
 Society I belong to, and ' so home,' and I've got to 
 go to a lawyer's to-day on business, confound 'em ! — 
 so must finish this yarn. Send me back old Fitz- 
 
267 
 
 gerald's letter, and with kind regards to Mrs. Crawhall 
 and your daughters, 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 The " Pots," to which allusion is so often made in 
 the letters, were decorated with grotesque " notions," 
 or, as Mr. Crawhall himself expresses it, "with all 
 kinds of imaginative fooleries as they occurred to 
 him," which much delighted Keene. At times, too, 
 as will be o;athered from the above letter, he would 
 paint heraldic designs upon these mugs for his friends. 
 The friend M. therein mentioned, himself perhaps the 
 finest of heraldic draughtsmen living, had seen some 
 of Mr. Crawhall's books and much admired them, 
 and, in return for copies presented to him, had sent 
 a packet of superbly emblazoned designs. These, 
 Mr. Crawhall considered, left him his debtor, and, 
 being desirous of showing some further civility, he 
 asked Keene to procure M.'s arms with which he 
 proposed to decorate one of these mugs. Keene sent 
 a coat of arms, which were carefully copied, inscribed 
 to M., and forthwith conveyed to him by Keene. 
 The further particulars of a most unfortunate mistake 
 are best given in Keene's own words. 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [May 24th, 1878.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I've been afraid to write to you the last few 
 
268 
 
 Cljarleg T&mu 
 
 days ! I've made such an awful mistake — not to 
 keep you in suspense, those were not M.'s arms ! 
 How shall I excuse myself? Poor M. was so cut 
 up as he thought you would be so vexed. I told 
 him I would write to you, and try and make it 
 all right. I was to thank you heartily for so kindly 
 thinking of him, and for the trouble you had taken, 
 and, in a measure vainly, through my fault. I am 
 a most unlucky fellow, or, as my enemies would 
 say, thoughtless. If there's a road to be missed — a 
 pot to be broken — a letter to be put in a wrong 
 envelope— (when I was a boy), a candle to be snuffed 
 out, etc., etc., 'homo sum C Old M. gave me such 
 a look as he said, ' You knew my arms ! ' I couldn't 
 say a word ! I did know them when I thought, but 
 I had had that sketch by me, and admired it, so that 
 I came to forget that it was the ' Wingfield ' coat. 
 We decided that we ought to tell you of the matter. 
 The poor old fellow was so concerned for you. 
 I asked him for an impression of his seal, or a 
 sketch of his arms, but I found he fenced the 
 request, and I saw (knowing him so well) that 
 he did not mean to give it me— (you can guess 
 why). He is an extraordinary, retiring, considerate 
 sort of man, and morbidly averse to giving anybody 
 trouble! — but I'll get a sketch from his brother, the 
 parson. So I've made a clean breast of it, and am 
 really very sorry. The only approach to levity that 
 I dare hint on the subject, is the thought of the 
 raging contests that will take place in future ages 
 among the Antiquaries and Heralds about that 
 
269 
 
 unique ' drinking vessel ' ! and I'm rather afraid that 
 I've committed this stupidity at a bad time, as I've 
 often thought that I, like you, had been baulked 
 of my spring and summer holiday on the banks of 
 rivers — by whose falls, melodious birds, etc., my 
 temper would not be improved ; but, getting very 
 little holiday myself, perhaps I exaggerate this. I 
 hope you'll have a brimming collection for your 
 Exhibition. I hear there's very little business doing at 
 the R. A., so perhaps there'll be a better chance at 
 Newcastle. Don't send back the Jap. books unless 
 they are actually in the way, as I am not wanting 
 them, and I please myself with the idea that you 
 may appreciate them. The only reason why I should 
 like to go to Paris, is to see the Jap. collection, but I 
 don't think I shall go. In my short holiday I must 
 make the most of my time in the country air. Have 
 you found a house yet ? Don't part with your books, 
 etc., till you've found one — you may have room for 
 all. That is a thought that worries me rather, the 
 fear that when my working days are over, I may not 
 have wall space for all my frames and books. A 
 friend of mine has a lot of outstanding bookcases in 
 his rooms, about four feet high and two broad, and 
 so houses a good many, and still has wall space for 
 his pictures, etc. I'm on the look-out for the third 
 vol. of ' Dibden's Typographical Antiquities.' I 
 have Vols. I., II., and IV. Will you mention it to 
 any Newcastle bookseller that you know ? I also 
 want Vol. I., of the latest edition of ' Pepys' Diary' 
 (Bickers and Son, London). This first vol. is out 
 
270 
 
 Cljarleg Recite 
 
 of print. I have the subsequent ones. I shall be 
 very glad to take advantage of your kind offer of 
 some more sketch-books. I'm sending you two that 
 I have, from which I've extracted the honey. I'm 
 very busy just now making efforts to get ahead, with 
 a view to prospective holidays. My friend Mac- 
 donald, of Aberdeen, with whom I stayed last year, 
 has been in London Although a helpless cripple, 
 paralysed in his legs, he came all the way on purpose 
 to go to the Academy dinner ! and I hear enjoyed 
 his visit very much. He told me a friend offered 
 him ,£1,000 for his card ! There ought to be some 
 rich fellows in Aberdeen ! He is a very good fellow, 
 but too much of a Russian for me just now. I please 
 myself with the idea that you are on the British side 
 in the great burning question. Never mind, but if 
 you are — N.B., although one of the 'Punch' staff, 
 so am I ! I'm sorry to say 'Punch' is ' Musco ' to 
 a man except C. K., so he keeps away from that 
 'liberal' lot at the present conjunction. I must 
 tell you that M. said he would write to you, but I 
 knew the old fellow would be bothered under the 
 circumstances, so I told him I would write to you 
 all about it. He was very urgent that I should 
 make you understand he appreciated your present. 
 He admired the pot very much. Your strong 
 colour (the mediaeval key), just pleases him. I hope 
 Mrs. Crawhall and all yours are well. I suppose 
 you'll perch them at some rural spot and 'chivy' 
 backwards and forwards to Newcastle. Let me 
 know if I can do anything to help the scheme. I'm 
 
GRIEF. 
 
Corp tent 
 
 271 
 
 always touting thereanent. More anon. I'll send 
 you my ' Sparrow ' coat. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 How Keene's fears about his own books were 
 realized, will be seen from a letter written about a 
 year before his death, and quoted further on in its 
 chronological order. A book reader as well as a 
 book collector, he writes : "With a book I'm like a 
 child with a sweetmeat ; like to save it for a bonne 
 bouche ; now and then, perhaps, dipping into a page 
 or two, taking a lick of it, as it were, and again 
 putting it by for a more plenary enjoyment." 
 
 Indication is given in the foregoing letter of 
 Keene's want of sympathy with the Radical element 
 on the ' Punch ' staff. Writing some years later, on 
 the occasion of Mr. Anstey Guthrie's first taking 
 his seat at "The Table," he says: " I hope he's a 
 Tory. We want some leaven to the set of sorry 
 Rads. that lead poor old ' Punch ' astray at present." 
 Keene's unassailable Toryism was another phase 
 of his love of all that was mellowed by antiquity. 
 " Hear, hear," he cried one day with enthusiasm at 
 a dinner-party, to the opinion expressed that " the 
 English people were happier, and in better circum- 
 stances, 200 years ago, than they are now " ! Of the 
 Paris Exhibition, he wrote : " A fellow was here 
 this morning in hot haste to get some drawings 
 from me. I choked him off pretty quick — and to 
 commemorate that beastly French Revolution and 
 
272 
 
 Cljarle© l&eene 
 
 its heroes, the Robespierres, Heberts, and Dantons, 
 and that bloodthirsty crew." Again in 1887 he wrote : 
 " I daresay you've noticed how all the snarling Rads. 
 make a great fuss about the Jubilee — 'a bore,' etc. 
 We know what they mean, and what humbug it is. 
 The first and only way it has troubled me is, that 
 on the occasion of the annual dinner of our Madrigal 
 Society next week, some amateur has rearranged 
 and tortured the setting of ' God save the Queen,' 
 involving painful rehearsals, and spoiling the old 
 chant. A plague on improvers, I say." He was 
 inclined to fear, with Lowell's foreigner, that there 
 was nothing so elastic in Nature that it could escape 
 being flattened by the heavy roller of democracy. 
 
 In 1883 he became a member, upon its foundation, 
 of the Constitutional Club. 
 
 A pet scheme in Keene's head for twenty years 
 was a modern carrying out of those series of 
 " characteristics " that the wits of the seventeenth 
 century were so fond of. " My idea was," he writes, 
 "an imitation — I won't say parody — of Fuller's in 
 his ' Holy and Profane State.' I should think you 
 know the book. It is a favourite of mine. ... I 
 can fancy a very pretty little adaptation of some of 
 his subjects from the ' Holy State,' ' The Good 
 Merchant,' ' The Artist,' ' The Constant Virgin,' 
 * The Good Herald,' ' The Wise Statesman,' etc., 
 and from ' The Profane,' ' The Witch,' ' The Harlot,' 
 ' The Degenerous Gentleman,' etc., etc. Of course 
 the writing is a difficulty. It ought to be in the 
 good old English of the seventeenth century, and 
 
mucf) for an tlUntiertafcec" 
 
 273 
 
 as much of old Fuller's wit as possible applied to 
 modern characters, and (entre nous) it ought to be 
 writ by one of our side, a good Tory and a gentle." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 {Aug 20, 1878.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " Did I thank you for the book of sketches in 
 my hasty line this week ? I will again. They are 
 a 'godsend' just now, as I've been rather 'down in 
 the mouth' since my holiday. It was too short, and 
 my friend that I went to stay with in Suffolk was 
 taken seriously ill, so that the state of things was 
 not conducive to humour and jollity, and when I 
 got back everybody was going away and made me 
 envious. I had a good blow on the pipes, though, 
 every day at Dunwich, which was a great solace. 
 I've kept 'em going, too, by a daily skirl here since 
 I've been back, and I can recommend the second and 
 third variations in the grand pibroch ' Mackintosh's 
 Lament,' to be played very ' Largo,' whenever you 
 have a fit of the blues ! Some of the new subjects 
 in your books are splitting, e.g., the pitman who was 
 knocked down by the locomotive and the squire who 
 was going to entertain some parsons and his butler. 
 I've done that one, ' Too much for an Undertaker,' 
 but I've made the customer a 'cheerful stranger' to 
 be a little less grim. Poor Shirley Brooks, I can 
 fancy him turning in his grave ! He had such a 
 
 T 
 
274 
 
 Cljarles Jkmu 
 
 horror of any suggestion about death ! The present 
 editor is more stoical ! I can sympathize with your 
 disappointment in being just a 'day after the fair' 
 in regard to the spear-heads. I should like to have 
 seen you when you first showed them to Canon 
 Greenwell ! I've not picked up anything lately. I 
 think I told you that (thanks to you for sending 
 me a catalogue) I got a few flints from Ireland at 
 Sotheby's. I've not got over that pleasure yet, and 
 carry some of the specimens in my pocket to gloat 
 over ' whiles ' ! I got a prize the other day, a book 
 I'd been looking for a long time, ' St. Simon's 
 Memoires,' a French edition, the best, I believe, 
 unabridged — 13 vols, for 12 shillings! If ever 
 you hear of a copy of 'Wesley's Journal, in Eng- 
 land and America, from 1755 to 1790' (there have 
 been several editions, most of them in four or five 
 vols. ; there are some in one vol., but, I fancy, they 
 must be abridgments, which I abhor) — my friend 
 Fitzgerald, the old Suffolk scholar, recommends me 
 the book — says it's delightful, apart from the fana- 
 tical portion. I'm reading my old friend Pepys 
 just now in the new enlarged transcript, of which I 
 have all the vols, except the first, which is out of 
 print, and which I'm eagerly hunting after. Stewart 
 writes me : ' How would this do for a subject ? — 
 Country cricket match ; an uninvited bull-terrier, 
 who has been trained, seizes the ball ; two fielders 
 doubt the propriety of taking it from him, while the 
 batsmen are getting runs like mad ! ' You might like 
 this for your scrap-book, and your animal painter 
 
412elDca0tle Cfljitution 
 
 275 
 
 could do the dog. I shall try it, I think. London 
 is awful just now. I was making calls in town 
 yesterday, and thought I'd dine at the club. Found 
 it shut for a fortnight! Met another member of 
 the club who was in the same predicament, and we 
 adjourned to a cafe ; unfortunately my friend was 
 one who ' dines,' so our meal cost us nearly ten bob 
 a-piece ! My friend the Irish trout-fisher, Stannus 
 (he has sent some pictures to your Exhibition), has 
 just gone on his last bachelor fishing trip to Ayrshire, 
 where his Scotch friends tell him they will give him 
 lots of fresh air, fishing, shooting, and whisky (!) to pre- 
 pare him for his impending change. He's going to be 
 married directly he comes back. My friend Wilfrid 
 Lawson, who lives over me, and with whom you are 
 in correspondence, has been 'at me' about sending 
 some of my ' Punch ' sketches — the only things I 
 have by me — to your show, and I've been obliged to 
 give in; but surely they- are too rough and inap- 
 plicable for such a purpose, so don't hesitate to keep 
 them out if any of your co-committee think so, or put 
 them in some retired corner, as they are so evidently 
 not executed for exhibition. Lawson talks of going 
 up to Newcastle at the opening. If you come across 
 him, he is a very good fellow indeed. ... I should 
 have finished and sent this letter on Saturday, but 
 my old friend Bigger called and sat talking all the 
 afternoon. I think I've described him to you before. 
 He's an old Scot, devoted to music, especially ' pipe,' 
 Scotch, Northumberland, and Irish — an interesting 
 old 'body.' I think his father is mentioned among 
 
276 
 
 Cljatleg I&eene 
 
 the Edinburgh ' characters ' in the early editions of 
 Chambers' ' Traditions of Edinburgh,' (J. B.), who 
 used to go about with a fiddle in his pocket. ' 'Tis 
 now the witching hour'; I'll finish this to-morrow. 
 
 " Tuesday. — I should like to see the Exhibition, 
 but I shall have to be in the way here all September, 
 as Jack Tenniel is going to Venice, and it's his first 
 real holiday since he has been on ' Punch.' I like 
 your idea of the new opera. Your friend is the 
 musician ? Get him to use the air ' My Love has 
 newly Listed.' I've not seen anything of Chappell. 
 I fancy he is rather a hermit, though he had a 
 garden party, I heard, in the summer at his house at 
 * Twittenham ' (as Pepys spells it), with fireworks 
 for diversion ! I don't care for fireworks. I should 
 have thought music would have been better, but I 
 did not hear of any. I hope we shall get him to 
 hear the pipes this year. I think ' Clem of the 
 Cleugh' would fetch him. His beautiful tone and 
 playing is in my ear yet. I left a bid at Puttick's 
 this week for a lot of little music-books of country 
 dances and minuets since the year 1 780 and onwards, 
 but, not being there myself, it went for a few shillings 
 more. There might have been something in it, but 
 it was a 'speculative' lot. I've felt for you all this 
 summer. How you must have longed for ' lonely 
 Shillmore ' ; but the trouts will suffer for it next year, 
 I ween. But I suppose you'll go away after the 
 opening of the Exhibition. You may have a spell of 
 Indian summer. I suppose you saw Stevenson on 
 his way to the North. I did not see him before he 
 
2Dun\Di'rt) 
 
 277 
 
 went. I'll send the books back when I've culled a 
 few more jokes. 
 
 " I send you a few scraps for your book, if you 
 will flatter me by accepting them. 
 
 "With kind regards to Mrs. Crawhall and the 
 maidens and young men, 
 " I am, 
 
 (< Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Alexander Macdonald, Esq. 
 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [i6t/i August, 1878.] 
 
 " Dear Macdonald, 
 
 " I intended, and I think I promised to write to 
 you when I was in the country. I went down to stay 
 with an old friend, who has a cottage on the coast of 
 Suffolk. I found him very ill, and I had to look after 
 him, and it took all my time, and I was not in spirits 
 for writing. My only solace was skirling away for 
 an hour on the lonely beach, and I generally chose 
 the most melancholy pibroch I could think of. I 
 found directly I came back that I should have to give 
 up any idea of more holiday this year. Tenniel is 
 going away to Venice and he has never had a holiday 
 since he has been on ' Punch,' so I have to be in the 
 way. Tell the Dean of Guild I often gloat over that 
 arrow-head he gave me. I picked up some flints 
 found in Ireland the other day at a sale. It's a 
 fascinating ' fad ' and I foresee I shall be a regular 
 '■ Monkbarns,' if I live to be old (or older I should 
 
278 
 
 Cljarlctf Recite 
 
 say!) Many thanks for the batch of good stones 
 you sent me. That's a very good one of the two 
 footmen. You'll see most of them in ' Punch ' here- 
 after. 
 
 " I've been wheedled into sending a frame of my 
 rough ' Punch ' sketches to the Newcastle Arts Asso- 
 ciation. My friend Crawhall is one of the secretaries. 
 He wanted me to go up to the opening, but I can't 
 get away now. I may run up to the Pipe Competition 
 that takes place about December. 
 
 " I was at a committee last night of the ' Anti- 
 Restoration Society,' and heard there was a scheme 
 for restoring the grand old cathedral of Old Aber- 
 deen. I hope you'll help us by not giving anything 
 for such vandalism. Half the beauty of these old 
 buildings is their lineaments of age, and the curves 
 and wrinkles time and history have given them. 
 Who would dress his grandmother in long clothes, 
 bib and tucker, and shave off her venerable locks to 
 make her look like a baby ? 
 
 " Kindest regards to Mrs. Macdonald. Adieu. 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 In October of this year John Tenniel went to 
 Venice with Mr. Silver, and Keene for the last time 
 undertook the cartoons. The first, on October the 
 5th, called " The Shadow on the Hills," is a very 
 splendid picture. The other three, " Indian Curry," 
 on October 12th, "The Edison Light," on October 
 26th, and "At the Head of the Profession," on 
 
HEUO& 8. IMP LEMERC1ER &.C 1 ? PAP 
 
 GIRL'S HEAD 
 
 FROM THE ORIGINAL WATER COLOUR DRAWING 
 
Cartoons 
 
 279 
 
 November 2, appear to be somewhat perfunctory 
 work. Indeed Keene's hatred of anything in the 
 way of personalities unfitted him for the role of 
 political cartoonist. 1 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 Si 1 1 Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Sep. 28, 1878.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I was so happy to receive the good news Miss 
 Crawhall sent me that you were not dangerously hurt 
 by that cruel accident, 2 and were recovering. The 
 description in the newspaper read so terribly. The 
 misfortune seemed so hard after the sacrifices you 
 had made of your leisure and holidays and the trouble 
 you had taken, that, since I heard you were all right, 
 I have not liked to think of it or write about it, and 
 I vote we forget it for a time till we can talk of it 
 carelessly. What an escape ! 
 
 " I've been staying with Birket Foster, and have 
 enjoyed my last short holiday very much there. The 
 only drawback was the absence of his two charming 
 daughters. I was glad to hear from Miss Foster's 
 letter to him that you had been out. Did she not see 
 you at the Exhibition ? I hope to hear soon that you 
 are getting fresh air and the last smiles of summer in 
 
 1 He had done a few in 1875 an ^ ^76, and one in 1877 on 
 October 27. Vide Mr. Harper's " Pen Artists of To-day." 
 
 2 The accident referred to was a gas explosion in the Exhibition 
 rooms prior to their opening, by which Mr. Crawhall was seriously 
 injured. 
 
280 
 
 CljdUlC3 IktZWZ 
 
 the country, and perhaps killing a few trout, though 
 I'm ashamed to say I don't know whether the season 
 is over or no. Don't forget to jot down some more 
 landscapes in your books; those you gave me I'm 
 going to have set in a long oak frame with ' Northum- 
 bria ' carved in old English letters at the base. Wit- 
 ley is rather in the dumps at losing one of its belles, 
 won by a Newcastle swain. Quite a county calam- 
 ity ! I shouldered my pipes and discoursed my most 
 melancholy ' Lament ' on hearing the news ! Send 
 me the Newcastle 'Exhibition Notes' (illustrated), 
 and I'll remit you the stamps. You will receive from 
 an old friend of mine a list of ' Reprints ' that he has 
 been bringing out for many years — I have asked him 
 to send it to you — you ought to have some of them. 
 Edward Arber has been in the Civil Service since he 
 began life (Admiralty, I think), but all this time his 
 hobby has been 'letters,' at which he has worked hard 
 in his leisure. He tells me in a letter just received 
 that a month since he retired from the service, and is 
 going to work hard at his labour of love. He says : 
 At 41 I have produced and sold 100,000 English 
 reprints, and accomplished the Transcript, which is 
 now paid for — all this in a few months over ten 
 years' actual working, with very little time and very 
 many worries, distractions, and hindrances.' So I 
 think you will agree that he is a deserving worker. 
 He says in his letter : ' I find it difficult to get at the 
 people who want my books. A list of likely persons 
 with their addresses would be a great help if you can 
 send me one, which I would treat as confidential.' I 
 
Collecting 
 
 281 
 
 was reminded to ask him to send you one, as in his 
 last book, which I have just got, there is a reprint, 
 amongst other good things, of a rare tract (two copies 
 only known), ' The Secrets of Angling — teaching the 
 choicest Tools, Baits, and Seasons for the taking of 
 any Fish, etc., by I. D., Esqre. 161 3.' He calls this 
 collection ' An English Garner,' and it seems to me 
 a charming little vol. — (bar the binding!). If you 
 know any likely person to send his prospectus to 
 you might give me a hint, or send it him. Poor 
 Jack Stewart had an accident at Witley the other 
 night. You know he is stone deaf, and he was 
 walking home at night and a farmer in his cart 
 met him, and tried to get out of his way (Stewart 
 had his head down and did not see him). He 
 knocked him down, damaged his teeth and bruised 
 him. I saw him the next morning in bed, as jolly as 
 ever. He told me it was quite delicious ! — when he 
 got up and tried his legs and found they were not 
 broken. The farmer was the more frightened and 
 distressed of the two, and poor Stewart had to ply him 
 with whiskey when they got home to cheer him up. 
 A friend writes to me from Aberdeen : 'I'm on the 
 trail of some arrow-heads for you, one with the original 
 wooden shaft in it ' ! A bookseller in London has a 
 complete set of Dibdin's 'Typographical Antiquities ' 
 he wants twelve pounds for. He offers to allow me five 
 pounds for my vols. 1, 2, and 4 in the transaction. 
 Would you close ? I've kept my pipes going ever 
 since I came from Suffolk — skirling for a quarter of 
 an hour every day, so they are in good order. I'm hot 
 
282 
 
 Cljaclegf Ikztnt 
 
 on some new tunes which I'll send you, 'The Chorus 
 Jig' and 'The Bonny Breastplate.' Have you sets 
 in your book ? 
 
 " I shall be so glad to hear from you when you 
 write that you've quite got over the ' blast' ; and how 
 is that poor stupid policeman ? I was touched by 
 reading in the first account of the concern he ex- 
 pressed for you on his recovering his senses. You 
 will have noticed that our sapient editor took all the 
 fun out of your subject of the Undertaker and the 
 uncanny customer. I complained about it. How are 
 the works selling at the Exhibition ? I don't sup- 
 pose there will be any bites at mine. I did not put 
 any figures to mine ; but, for reasons I will explain* 
 I would put rather a prohibitive price on them — fifty 
 pounds for the frame of 'Punch' subjects, and twenty 
 for the ' Pocket-book ' design. Were you taken with 
 any particular pictures? Have you anything of 
 Albert Moore's ? The Moores are north country- 
 men (York), and ought to be there. What a 'histo- 
 rical ' view of the Tynemouth Aquarium, etc., there 
 was in the paper the other day (the ' Graphic ' or 
 ' Illustrated '), with groves of trees and gardens that 
 I don't remember seeing. Kindest regards to Mrs. 
 Crawhall and all your sons and daughters. I hope 
 the coming Landseer has sold his picture. Don't 
 bother to answer this if you are enjoying your 
 newly-acquired leisure ; a line that you are better will 
 be a great pleasure to 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
(HanHaltgm 
 
 283 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 "11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea, 
 
 " Saturday. 
 
 [Nov. 2, 1878.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " Just a line. I've been very busy and worried 
 lately or you'd have had a letter. I saw in one of 
 the papers a notice of that contemplated atrocity, the 
 pulling down the old tower on the walls, and thought 
 of you at the time, and how your wrath would be 
 kindled. I can sympathize with you, though this 
 sort of thing is going on so constantly in London 
 that I should think only staunch Conservatives all 
 round can help their perceptions and tastes getting 
 blunted and callous from the constant friction. It 
 must be more poignantly felt in a smaller town like 
 yours. I remember a flagrant case in Ipswich. I 
 was a boy comparatively, but my blood boiled then, 
 and does now when I think of it. That was a 
 large affair, but this little watch-tower on the wall — 
 oh, they might spare it ! Caricature the Goths. I 
 fancy I've seen ' a cat' such as you describe in some 
 curiosity shop window, but should not have guessed 
 its use. I hope I shall be able to get away and take 
 advantage of your kindness for a clay or two at the 
 piping. They talk of getting 'Punch's Almanack' 
 out earlier this year, so this gives me hopes. I hope 
 'Clem of the Cleugh ' will perform again. Poor 
 Munro, my pipe preceptor and reed maker, has blown 
 •his last breath.' He died the other day from a 
 
284 
 
 Cljacleg beetle 
 
 rapid lung disease. The other day I picked up the 
 third vol. of Dibdin's ' Typ. Ant.,' so that my set 
 is complete; gave 3 or. for it. It seems a good 
 copy, but there are several pages with blank spaces 
 instead of the printer's device, e.g. : pages 541, John 
 Mayler ; 573, Robert Joy ; 579, Richard Lant; 251, 
 Richard Banks, etc. Is it the same in your copy ? 
 It says in the advertisement : ' When the devices of 
 printers could not be procured, a blank space within 
 a single line frame has been substituted ' — so I hope 
 it's all right. Arber was very much obliged for the 
 list you sent him through me ; he said, with one 
 exception, the names were unknown to him. How 
 did you like 'The English Garner'? Wasn't it a 
 frightful cover ? I thought that collection of ' Posies ' 
 would be useful to you. W. Lawson was off to 
 Scotland this morning. He talked of breaking his 
 journey as he came back at Newcastle. Was he 
 satisfied at the hanging of his pictures ? He did not 
 tell me much of what he did when he was there. I 
 shall write you a letter as soon as I've 'broken the 
 back ' of my Christmas work. 
 
 " I hope Mrs. Crawhall and all yours are well, and 
 am, " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea, 
 
 "Dec. 16 [1878]. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I've still the confounded ' Punch ' Index and 
 
285 
 
 Preface to do this week ; for the latter I have to 
 wait for the editor, and have not been able to get it 
 from him yet ; so I'm obliged, to my great dis- 
 appointment, to give up my visit to you and the pipe 
 concert, but it can't be helped. I can't thank you 
 adequately for your kindness. I hope your son is 
 better. Lawson told me he had got a chill and 
 severe cold from sitting in wet clothes, but we hoped, 
 from your not mentioning it, that he was getting over 
 it. Hammer it into the boy's mind that he may 
 over-eat, get drunk, act any imprudence, except that, 
 till he's forty ; by that time he'll know it himself. The 
 programme you sent me this morning went to my 
 heart : should like to have heard ' Cleugh ' play 
 1 Felton Louvion ' and ' Jacky Layton,' the two 
 typical Northumberland tunes. I imagine you chose 
 them on that account. I have your first quaint 
 MS. programme stowed away somewhere for re- 
 membrance in after years, and shall take the same 
 care of the present. Perhaps next year, if we're 
 all alive, I may hear them again. My great pipes 
 have been silent for months. I don't seem to 
 have any time but for work now-a-days. I was at 
 Hey wood Hardy's, the animal painter, last Sunday 
 night. He's very clever musically too — plays the 
 penny whistle, the zither (have you heard this 
 instrument ? — charming, but difficult). I'm trying 
 to resist the desire to have one — foresee I shall cave 
 in ; and he plays the old English guitar exquisitely — 
 the same instrument that that Newcastle dealer had 
 and sent me a sketch of. I have a very pretty one 
 
286 
 
 Cijacleg beetle 
 
 in the original case, a.d. 176 — , which Hardy is 
 stringing for me. 
 
 " Remember me kindly to Canon Greenwell when 
 you see him. One reason I have not written to him 
 was the thinking I should see him this Christmas. 
 Now I shall try and screw up my confidence and 
 write to him. Do you know if his late researches 
 have been described anywhere ? The work I spoke 
 to you of I have to get done by the end of April, so 
 it will be after that time that I can get away; but 
 don't let us have any specific projects. Liberty, 'the 
 country,' and congenial company, is sufficient elysium 
 to look for. If a barrow accidently turns up, that is 
 all extra. I don't know whether you'll see Lawson 
 to-morrow. He asked me if I was eoine, and at last 
 said if I'd go he would. It has been as dark as 
 night all day, and in London you can't get enough 
 gas to work by till five o'clock ! so that if a fellow 
 depends on a model, as I am just now, his occupa- 
 tion's gone. 
 
 " I hope you and your friends have not been hurt 
 by these banks breaking. I'm supposed to be in a 
 stew, as I have some gas shares, and was advised 
 right and left to sell, but I've stuck to them as yet. 
 Remember me to Stevenson and all my friends in 
 Newcastle and about. And with kindest regards to 
 you and Mrs. Crawhall and yours, 
 " I am, 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 1879— 1882. 
 
 Removal from Queen's Road to 239, King's Road, Chelsea. — 
 Mr. Dudley's account. — Letter, July 26, 1879. — Letter, November 
 23, 1879. — Letter, December 5, 1879. — Edition de Luxe of 
 Thackeray's Works. — Illustrations to " Roundabout Papers." — 
 Edward Fitzgerald. — Portraits of Thackeray.— " La Vie Moderne." 
 —Letter, May 16, 1880.— Letter, July 16, 1880.— " Border Notes 
 and Mixty-Maxty." — Death of Keene's mother. — Letter, June 19, 
 1 88 1. — His love of young people. — A useful hack-waltzer.— 
 Fancy dress. — Letter, August 6, 1881. — Keene's portrait by 
 Sir George Reid. — Letter, October 20, 1881.— "Our People."— 
 Undated letter to Mr. Tuer. — Miss Jean Ingelow's recollections. 
 — Keene's appearance in later years. — Mr. Mills. — ■" Just like a 
 lord." — Letter, June 10, 1882. — Letter, June 24, 1882.— Letter, 
 October 12, 1882. 
 
 N 1879, the Queen's Road premises 
 being required for local improvements, 
 Keene removed to his last studio at 
 239, 'King's Road, Chelsea. Of a 
 visit paid to him here by his son, Mr. Dudley writes : 
 " There was a curiously quaint flavour about his 
 simplicity of life and personal arrangements. My 
 son went to see him at his studio in Chelsea, and, 
 finding Keene hard at work, sat quietly down looking 
 
288 
 
 Cljarlegi J&mu 
 
 about him at the jumble of 'properties.' He was 
 somewhat puzzled by a strange-looking apparatus 
 on the hob, 1 and wondered what its purpose could 
 
 A RUSTIC SUITOR. 
 
 be. Keene looked up and, noticing this, said : 
 'What do you think that is, Guildford?' 'Well, I 
 
 1 This is a mistake. The apparatus was over a gas-light, 
 brought by a flexible tube on to a stool in the middle of the 
 room. 
 
Culmarp 
 
 289 
 
 can't make out.' ' That's my lunch. I bring it from 
 home and cook it up here. See here! Splendid 
 idea !' and he explained how, with the coiled spring 
 taken from an old ' Gibus ' hat, and a jam gallipot, 
 he had constructed a culinary contrivance for the 
 purpose. It did not much matter to C. K. whether 
 the original delicacy slightly suffered, for his sense 
 of taste was, as he said, next to nothing, though I 
 believe he liked anything he took to be as hot as it 
 could be made. At the club he would take his cup 
 of coffee from the dining to the smoking-room, 
 placing it by the fire until it was at a temperature 
 high enough to scarify any ordinary palate. Keene, 
 however, seemed to enjoy it so with his pipe." 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 " 11, Queen's Road West, 
 " Chelsea, 
 
 " Saturday, July 26th, '79. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I've been miserable lately at having neglected 
 writing to you for so long, but it has not been really 
 neglect. There are letters one is obliged to write, 
 and those one sits down to as a pleasure, and I've 
 been looking forward to having a long ' crack ' with 
 you. I am five or six weeks ahead with my work, 
 for which I've been pegging away, and am a month 
 ' to the good ' now, but a few weeks ago my hopes 
 were all dashed by a notice to quit from my landlord, 
 which has disheartened me altogether. ' Good-bye ' 
 to all ideas of a holiday this summer, which must be , 
 wasted in looking out for a den and moving with all 
 
 u 
 
290 
 
 Cljaclesf lieene 
 
 my rubbish. But let us cheer up ; better luck next 
 time. How did you get on in your jaunt by Coquets 
 side ? We had miserable weather about the time 
 down here. When it did not rain we had dark days 
 with a leaden-coloured sky. I hope you had better 
 luck and heavy creels full of fish. Tell me of your 
 adventures— < babble o' green fields' to me! and I 
 look for some 1879 sketch-books with bits of wild 
 Northumbria by-and-by. I'll try and not covet them. 
 I enclose you some of mine haphazard for your 
 scrap-book, but I wish if you should see any par- 
 ticular one in ' Punch ' you would tell me. You 
 should not scruple, considering the many I've taken 
 out of your collection. I thought of you the other 
 night when I called on my friend Haydon, of whom 
 I've spoken to you. He's the staunchest angler I 
 know south of you. He lives in Bedlam— don't be 
 alarmed ; he is steward of that celebrated institu- 
 tion, and has a house with large garden in the 
 precincts. He had hatched, and I helped him to 
 bottle off, several thousand young trout to put into 
 a stream near Powderham Castle, Devonshire. Long 
 may it ripple on, and Coquet and the rest, un- 
 poisoned. To parody Lord John Manners' couplet— 
 ' Let industries and manufactures die, 
 But leave us still our trout and salmon fry ' ! 
 
 Passing strange, to stock a Devonshire stream 
 with fish reared in the heart of Southwark, within 
 stink of Bermondsey ! Wasn't Coquet in spate this 
 spring? The Thames has not been fishable. My 
 Irish angler has got married, and goes not a-fishing 
 
291 
 
 this summer. I ought to have thanked you before 
 for those quaint catalogues from Cockermouth you 
 sent me. They go into my big scrap-book — elephant 
 folio — with many other out-of-the-way cuttings you 
 have sent me, and are of salutary effect on me just 
 now. The Nemesis of collecting faces me now I've 
 got to move into a new den, and one has to resist 
 the tempting desire to inquire about some of these 
 treasures. What does he charge for his catalogues ? 
 I don't like to take yours, and I should like some 
 more. W. B. Scott has offered to let me his studio, 
 and for some things I should like it, but there are 
 objections. There is no private entrance, and I 
 should have to go through his house and garden. I 
 like the old boy as far as I've been acquainted with 
 him. You've known him a long time, I expect. Do 
 you like him ? And the place looks damp. I've 
 never caught rheumatism, and would rather not. . . . 
 I believe it would be the cheapest way for me to 
 build, but, as a Scot that I knew always used to be 
 saying, ' Ah canna be bawthered w'it.' I'm the more 
 anxious to get into a fairly comfortable place from a 
 feeling that if I stay in it as long as I have in my 
 last and former ones I shall be pretty well worked 
 out in my present groove, and, perhaps, only fit to 
 sit in my chair and read or make bagpipe reeds 
 1 whiles.' But if I lose my holiday this year — and it 
 looks like it — I shall still cherish the hope of that 
 ' Barrow,' or a peep at ' Coquet,' or Umfreville Castle, 
 or the weird ' Simonside,' or ' Watling Street' another 
 time. Have you come across any new tunes lately? 
 
292 
 
 Clj dries Jkm\z 
 
 My pipes are ' going,' but my preceptor, poor Munro r 
 the best reed maker in Christendy, is dead. I shall 
 try and make the acquaintance of Ross, the Queen's 
 Piper, who, I hear, is a gentlemanly sort of fellow. 
 I am tempted to send you a letter I had the other 
 day from that eccentric old Scot I told you of, the 
 rather as he mentions you (I've shown him your 
 verses, epigrams, and the ' Fishers' Garland,' etc.). 
 His writing is crabbed, so don't be 'bawthered w'it' 
 if you don't like (I've marked the passage with red), 
 but he's a ' character,' and a good, innocent old fellow 
 and a hot Jacobite, though in the nineteenth century. 
 I've taken to the tune ' The Bonny Breastplate' for 
 the pipes, and see if 'The Chorus Jig' is in your 
 books ; it's a screamer. Does the pipe ' consort r 
 come off this year in Newcastle ? I should like to 
 hear ' Clem of the Cleugh ' discourse again. I don't 
 think he'll be easy to 'beat. You ought to have a 
 gold medal to be given to the best piper, to be the 
 property of the taker of the first prize three years 
 running. This would help much to keep up the 
 practice of the instrument. Make the design your- 
 self. Or let the medal be of silver ; then, large and 
 handsome. Another idea for a prize : some lady 
 might embroider in silk the arms of Northumbria 
 on a velvet bag-cover. By-the-by, the title-page of 
 that book of Montagu's is (black lettering) ' Stan- 
 dards borne by Peers and Knights in the time of 
 King Henry y e Eighth' (arms of Pickering) ; then 
 comes a page of dedication, with Montagu's coat 
 underneath. Among the banners are those of ' The 
 
Collecting: 
 
 293 
 
 Herle of Northumberland,' the Baron of Hylton, 
 M. Lylle, M. Wawhan (Vaughan), M.Stonere, Lord 
 Lomley, etc. I fancy some of these are northern 
 gentry. The buyer at the sale has written on the 
 fly-leaf, ' Purchased at the sale of the private library 
 of the late Basil Montagu Pickering, 28th May, 
 1879.' Mr. Montagu was the author of ' Montagu's 
 Heraldry ' and the illustrator of ' Drummond's 
 Noble Families.' Do you know this latter book ? 
 Pick it up if ever you see it. I saw a copy at 
 Pickering's. They told me it was scarce, and yearly 
 increasing in value ; that old Pickering lost money 
 by the publication. It was expensively and beauti- 
 fully 'got up.' I still pick up a book now and then 
 to pore over some day. That flint craze has whirled 
 me into geology and prehistoric antiquities generally. 
 I'm going to a sale to-morrow to try and 'bag' an 
 old Herbal with woodcuts. Remember me to Canon 
 Greenwell when you see him. I should like to have 
 written to him, but thought I should see him last 
 December ; and then he is such a master, and I'm 
 such a very tyro, that I was afraid of boring him. I 
 have inserted the photo of his Roman 'phisog' into 
 his 4 British Barrows.' 
 
 " A friend of mine who bought a lot of my ' Punch' 
 sketches writes to me to-day if I would object to 
 their sending some to Newcastle. I'm ashamed of 
 'em, but they would like to I know, so I shall con- 
 sent. How does your son get on with his work — 
 the artist? A friend of mine, an animal painter, 
 told me a story the other day. He comes from 
 
294 
 
 Cijarles T&zene 
 
 Wiltshire, and began early. His father used to send 
 him into the fields to sketch cattle when he was 
 ten, and he came to London late. He made the 
 
 acquaintance of , who is rather a conceited 
 
 party. He looks down on and patronizes my friend, 
 who, nevertheless, gets on with him. Goddard met 
 
 ■ the other day at the Zoological Gardens, who 
 
 said, in his grand way, he had come to make a study 
 
 of a lion. They parted for an hour, and then 
 
 looked very down in the mouth. ' Damn the brutes, 
 they won't keep still !' My friend expected this, and 
 
 enjoyed his triumph. ' My dear , if you want 
 
 to paint animals, it's no good waiting till they stand 
 
 still ! ' is a precious clever painter, though. I 
 
 see in Drayton's ' Battle of Agincourt,' where he 
 describes the array and the banners, he gives the 
 device of Northumberland to be 'two lions fighting, 
 tearing one another.' Is this device in use now? 
 
 " Will you send me that epigram of yours about 
 Queen Elizabeth ? I've mislaid my copy and can't 
 find it. I want to send a copy of it to Montagu's 
 sister (an authoress), who is an admirer of your 
 muse. She was delighted with the ' Hot trod. 
 
 " You must be pretty well tired of this budget by 
 this time. I'll write again from my new den. I 
 send my kind regards to you all, and hope to see 
 you in 'Bonny Newcassel' some day. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 " Throw the old piper's letter in the fire if you 
 can't decipher it." 
 
295 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 "32, Hammersmith Road, 
 
 " Friday night. 
 [Received Nov. 23, 1879.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " Fancy yourself being turned out of your studio 
 {i.e., your entire house), having packed up all your 
 familiar traps higgeldy pig dy , and carted them off to 
 be stacked in a remote warehouse, and then having 
 to carry on your work in a small bedroom already 
 ' lumbered up ' with knick-knacks of another sort, in 
 your busiest time too, and therewith having to look 
 out and run about to find another den. That has 
 been my case for the last two months. I've at last 
 found one in Chelsea (329, King's Road). I think 
 that's the number ; not quite got it by heart yet ; 
 awful difficult number to remember — no clue. All 
 this by way of excuse for not having written to you 
 for so long — a poor one, but my best. I hope you are 
 all right at home again and your boy got over his 
 fever. Never mind about the tract (' Breath of 
 Life'), especially if you've read, marked, and in- 
 wardly digested it. I believe it's ' the Sovereignest 
 thing on earth.' I'm so much obliged for the two 
 books which came in my sore need. I'm sorry I 
 made the mistake in that legend ; I wrote it from 
 memory in haste. I hope to draw upon the vols, 
 further. Are not you getting rather tired of your 
 Exhibition work ? I like to know that you are by 
 stream and mountain, and jotting down bits of wild 
 Northumbria between whiles, for three or four 
 
296 
 
 Cfjarles Iknm 
 
 months, though I'm not so fortunate myself. Your 
 muse will get jealous and sulky too. I'll be bound 
 you have not written a song this summer, but I 
 think it has been an ' annus non ' all round for every- 
 body. By the mass ! when I think what I've missed. 
 Imprimis, that barrow ! and the dreams I had of 
 seeing ' Simonside, and ' Watling Street,' and some 
 place with a pretty name ' where the lambs are feed- 
 ing.' that I can't recollect, and some castle of the old 
 Umfrevilles — all through your sketches. Then I had 
 promised to spend a few days with poor Macdonald, 
 of Aberdeen, who, actually, when I was there last 
 had a sort of piper skirling away in his garden one 
 afternoon for my delectation. Then again, I was to 
 go for a week or so to my friend Fitzgerald (the old 
 Literate, we call him) — he has lately published 
 some translations of Persian poesy ! (Quaritch, 
 10s. 6d.\ — have not invested!) — who was staying 
 on the Suffolk coast. I was to meet there an old 
 schoolfellow, " Big Badger" (his real name is imma- 
 terial, it was Big and Little Badger. The brothers 
 were named from their bristly hair). Big Badger is 
 the Professor of Sanscrit at Cambridge, and an 
 awful pundit, but Fitzgerald tells me he is delight- 
 ful, and that all the time he was there (big botanist 
 too) he was hunting about for a particular species 
 of nettle that the Romans had brought over ! This 
 would have been delicious ! but ' hope springs eternal,' 
 etc. Better luck next year. I hope I shall be able 
 to jump at your kind invitation for the pipe contest, 
 and to sit and have another pipe with you in your 
 
Coatg of armg 
 
 297 
 
 snug den. I'll work hard for it, but please don't 
 make me a judge ; I never was a judge of anything, 
 never in ' the chair ' anywhere — may have been in a 
 committee, but would swear I did not understand it. 
 Did not you ask me, alas ! in a letter or two ago, for 
 the colour of my coat of arms ? I like the Sparrowe 
 coat best (my mother's). That bundle of arrows in 
 my father's seems to me modern, and I know the 
 Sparrowe's is a real old one. I send an impression 
 of the latter from an old silver seal, judged to be 
 temp. Henry VIII. You will see the lower corner 
 of the shield is worn off, and the top of the crest 
 (unicorn's head). Montagu says anyone can alter 
 his crest if he likes. One of the Sparrowe mottoes 
 I've seen I like, ' Je me contente.' I've seen another 
 in Latin, but forget it. I should like to send you 
 that MS- of Montagu's, but am afraid of boring 
 you if you are very busy ; but say the word and I'll 
 send it. I think it will give you some pretty hints 
 in heraldic 
 
 "Dec. — I've not seen the Fosters since they were 
 in Northumberland. They went first to Rothbury, 
 but after to Warkworth, which I heard they liked 
 best. I shall be down at Witley about Xmas, I dare 
 say. You heard, I dare say, of all poor Whistler's 
 misfortunes, and of the climax, his losing his house 
 and studio. He had quarrelled lately with his archi- 
 tect, and the night before he left he wrote over the 
 door, ' Unless the Lord build the house the labour is 
 in vain of him that buildeth it. George Godwin 
 built this, 1879.' W. Lawson and his wife were 
 
298 
 
 Cljacles l&eene 
 
 passing, and read the inscription. They were quite 
 touched ! Mrs. L. said she almost cried ! they ac- 
 tually thought it was written in serious sadness ! 
 This was pretty, as old Pepys would have said ! I 
 was introduced to a Newcastle man the other day 
 at the Arts Club ; said he knew you. Was his name 
 Nicholson ? A young man I should describe as in 
 very good condition. Is he an artist ? I fancy he 
 was dining with Carr, the art critic. 
 
 " I thank you very much for the pamphlet on birds ; 
 it will help to swell my collection of ' Miscellanea,' a 
 sort of book I'm very fond of — interesting pamphlets 
 not cropped, of slightly ununiform sizes, bound in 
 boards, the names written on backs on white label ! 
 I still collect books. I shall never be able to help that, 
 I shy prints, though I was tempted yesterday with 
 some Chodowieckis and fell ! China ? Avaunt ! 
 though a friend of mine has a plate I have coveted 
 for years. If I ever get it, I shall offer to hang it up 
 at the Arts Club. It bears only this simple, though 
 enigmatical, inscription — ' The one-eyed sportsman, 
 gentleman.' I presume it was a toast of the last 
 century ! 
 
 "The Belper Quaker's catalogues are most enticing, 
 but, by Jove ! he seems to have a very adequate idea 
 of the interest and value of flint instruments ! How 
 far is Belper from Newcastle ? Have you had 
 " Liver " this winter, or has your hard work exorcised 
 it ? I've had a touch lately. I fancy it must be from 
 missing my daily six-mile walk to and from my studio. 
 I find working at home demoralizing in many ways — - 
 
Cljelgea ^>tutno 
 
 299 
 
 too comfortable. At the town ' chop house ' the 
 viands are not universally appetizing, and they take 
 care not to give you too much, and I have often 
 thought that is one healthy element of the bachelor 
 working man in London ; but at home you get meats 
 your soul loveth ; and in any case, lately, I did not 
 get enough exercise. And then there's the 'bacco. 
 I'm certain your smoker requires exercise, and I 
 find by stopping my 'bacco I get better every hour. 
 So give me eight miles walk a day and smoke as 
 often as you like. My new den is a first floor flat in 
 a corner house, so I've a lighter room than I ever 
 had before, one great desideratum. But there's an 
 awful ' set off.' There are strangers in the flat above 
 me and below, and my breathing chanter will proudly 
 swell no more ! I must be content with the practice- 
 stick, and have a good spell on some lonely sea- 
 shore in the summer. In other respects I shall not 
 be so comfortable as heretofore. The landlord is a 
 Philistine, and insists a good deal on the Respectable, 
 so I've had to put up no end of blinds and stair- 
 carpets. My studio has a drawing-room air about it 
 (at present !), with a gorgeous paper. I like a wall 
 that you can knock a nail in with a clear conscience. 
 If I live there a year or so, how I shall enjoy putting 
 a wash of distemper over the entire superficies ! I 
 shall try and cover it with sketches, and frame my 
 prints. I suppose you've been too much engaged 
 to have added to your treasures. Did you ever get 
 anything blindly from the Cockermouth catalogues ? 
 I have acquired a few flint scrapers from Surrey, 
 
3oo 
 
 Cljarles beetle 
 
 and one beautifully chipped arrow-head found in 
 Suffolk, worthy of Canon Greenwell's collection. I 
 cut a paragraph from the ' Times ' the other day, 
 about some barrows he had been opening somewhere. 
 If you should learn that there is a fuller account of 
 these discoveries published, I wish you would let me 
 know. I picked up Evans's book on Flint Imple- 
 ments that I've been looking out for ever so long, 
 for eighteen shillings — cheap, as the book seldom 
 turns up, and it must have cost more originally. 
 Have you read Burton's ' Scot Abroad ' ? — very good. 
 I met W. B. Scott to-day. He went to Scotland in 
 August with ' Liver,' but says he is all right again. 
 I'm sorry I lost the studio he would have let me. I 
 think I should have got on very well with him. 
 The Anti-Restoration Society are in a great flurry 
 about St. Mark's, Venice. Have you had a circular ? 
 I see that eminent Conservative (for the nonce), 
 Burne Jones, has been haranguing about it at a 
 meeting, and W. Morris too, — pestilent Rads. at the 
 same time. I can't understand this ! I saw in the 
 paper you sent me, in the account of Bruce's lecture, 
 that a lady sang the ballad of ' My love has newly 
 listed.' Where are the words to be found? I've 
 never come across Chappell ; I should like to pump 
 him about the Northumberland music, and will if I 
 get a chance. I fancy he's rather a hermit. I joined 
 an old London Madrigal Society the other day, that 
 meets in a room belonging to the ' Royal Society of 
 Musicians,' hung round with portraits of ancient com- 
 posers. We sit round at tables with ' Chapel Royal ' 
 
£ 9£ a tin pi »>orietp 
 
 301 
 
 boys as sopranos and altos, and howl away at the 
 glorious works of Byrd, Gibbons, Purcell, etc., so 
 refreshing after the pestilent modern rubbish one's 
 ear is so constantly disturbed with. You know the 
 libretti of the old things, I dare say, — though, in 
 condemning modern music, I except such excellent 
 'fooling' as Sullivan's ' Pinafore.' Do you know it? 
 Have you done any more with your projected ballad 
 opera ? Montagu's brother, the merry old parson, 
 sent me a Shakespearian motto for a Michaelmas 
 goose the other day — I forget the play, and the 
 exact quotation, but to this effect : 
 
 'So fair without, but such stuff (ing) within.' 1 
 
 I think this is new. I think it must be in ' Othello ' 
 
 or ' Lear.' I see J. M nearly every week, and 
 
 have a game of ' Tric-Trac ' with him. He says he 
 can't see to draw any more, and I think you've got 
 about the last things from his hand. He gets deaf 
 too, but says he can hear me better than most 
 speakers. Spends all his time reading ; he likes 
 travels best and novels ! Can't stand anything anti- 
 quarian, and music he abhors ! and, if you mention 
 poetry, he storms ; but his sister, who writes to him 
 constantly, is a great admirer of your muse, and he 
 showed me a highly commendatory criticism of hers 
 on your ' Hot trod.' How does your son the painter 
 get on ? I suppose he'll be sending to the R.A. 
 next year. Tom Taylor went with his family to 
 
 1 " So fair an outward and such stuff within." 
 
 Cymbeline, Act i., Sc. 1. 
 
302 
 
 Cfjaclesf Ikeene 
 
 Skye this autumn, and he was telling us how de- 
 lighted Wickliffe (his boy's name) was at shooting 
 the grouse and wild fowl, and hunting the otter, and 
 killing the salmon, and of his paraphernalia of guns 
 and rods and nets, etc., etc. One of the hearers 
 mildly asked if he was going to study at his pro- 
 spective profession — 'Oh yes,' said Tom (startled 
 at this important omission) ; ' he's taken all his oils 
 and his water-colours ! ' Did your young people 
 go in 'motley' to the last Exhibition ball ? and Mrs. 
 Crawhall in the Rembrandt costume ? I suppose 
 Stevenson is back in Tynemouth by this time. I 
 expect every week to see him turn up at the Arts 
 Club. 
 
 I send my kindest regards to all in Eldon Square, 
 and hope to see you before the year's end. I suppose 
 Cleugh will come to the front again at the competi- 
 tion, and ' wipe the eye ' of the Piper of the Princely 
 House of Percy. 
 
 "Adieu. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239 Kings' Road 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Dec. 5, 1879.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I told you it was a difficult number to re- 
 collect ! You made it 329 — but the Post Office was 
 equal to the occasion, and I got them all right. 
 One friend directed to ' 238.' This beat them, and the 
 
"l&oimtmbout papers" 
 
 letters went to the Dead office. I've been working 
 tooth and nail to be able to come to you on Monday, 
 and, if no just cause or impediment intervenes, I 
 shall start on that day by the morning train, reaching 
 Newcastle about six or seven, I suppose. Don't 
 wait dinner for me, as I shall 'grub' on the road, but 
 save me a mug of tea. You know my weakness for 
 that Johnsonian beverage. I suggested to Ridley, 
 a friend of mine who works for the ' Graphic,' 
 that the competition would make a good subject for 
 the paper. He said he should see Thomas, the head 
 man, about it, but I've not heard from him whether 
 he was successful. Perhaps, though, they might not 
 send a man on purpose. A sketch sent might suit 
 them. Your son might have a shy with a sketch of 
 a piper and his pipes. I feel quite elated at a few 
 days' holiday, having had my nose at the grindstone 
 for so long without a break, but I can only take two 
 or three days ! I shall bring up the Heraldic M.S., 
 but you'll let me have the picture-books a little 
 longer. You will have seen what a God-send 
 they've been to me. I ought to have written before, 
 to give you time to write, in case my coming might 
 be inconvenient (if so, telegraph— 239— but not if it is 
 all right), and D.V. I shall be up on Monday. 
 "In haste, 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 On the publication this year by Messrs. Smith and 
 Elder of the edition de luxe of Thackeray's works, 
 
304 
 
 Cljarles Tknm 
 
 Keene was called upon to illustrate the " Roundabout 
 Papers," for which he made eight full-page drawings, 
 and several initials. These were again used in the 
 " Standard" edition, 1885. Writing in 1880, Edward 
 Fitzgerald makes allusion to some of these which 
 Keene had forwarded to him. 1 The letter is so 
 characteristic, and evinces such warm affection for the 
 artist, that I cannot refrain from a long quotation, 
 although it has already appeared in Mr. Aldis 
 Wright's " Letters and Literary Remains" of that 
 essential dilettante. 
 
 "As I am not an artist (though a very great 
 author), I will say that four of your drawings 
 seem capital to me. I cannot remember the ' Round- 
 abouts,' which they initialed, except two: (1) The 
 Idle, Lazy Boy, which you note as not being used, 
 I suppose from not being considered sufficiently ap- 
 propriate to the Essay (which I forget), but which I 
 thought altogether good ; and the Old Man with a 
 look of Edwards ! (2) Little Boy in Black, very 
 pretty. (3) (I forget the Essay) People looking at 
 Pictures ; one of them, the principal, surely a recol- 
 lection of W. M. T. himself. Then (4) there was a 
 Bawling Boy: subject forgotten. I looked at them 
 many times through the forenoon, and came away 
 here at two p.m. 
 
 1 In an undated letter to Mr. Stewart, Keene writes: "I spent 
 the day as I came home at Woodbridge, with old Fitzgerald ; he's 
 an eccentric old fellow; they think him daft at Woodbridge, but he's 
 just one of our sort — very bookish, and fond of art, and delightful 
 company." 
 
STUDY FOR ONE OF THE PORTRAITS OF THACKERAY IN THE 
 EDITION DE LUXE OF THE NOVELIST'S WORKS. 
 
31Uu0tcation0 
 
 305 
 
 " I do not suppose or wish that you should make 
 over to me all these drawings, which, I suppose, 
 are the originals from which the wood was cut. 
 I say I do not ' wish,' because I am in my seventy- 
 second year, and I now give away rather than accept ; 
 but I wished for one, at least, of your hand, for it's 
 own sake and as a remembrance/for what short time 
 is left me, of one whom I can sincerely say I regard 
 greatly for himself, as also for those Dunwich days 
 in which I first became known to him — 'Voila qui 
 est dit.' " 
 
 It is not my purpose in this place, indeed it 
 would be presumptuous on my part, to attempt to 
 criticise the work of the great artist with whose 
 Life we are concerned. Many far more competent 
 have had their say, and many more, doubtless, will 
 do so as time goes on, but I cannot refrain from 
 recording my opinion that no finer or more sym- 
 pathetic illustrations could be found in the whole 
 range of illustrated literature than those to "A Great 
 Battle," "A Riding Lesson," " The Evening Post," not 
 to mention the initial letters to " Tunbridge Toys," 
 " Round about the Christmas Tree," and " Nil Nisi 
 Bonum," in these volumes. An adventitious interest 
 also attaches to these pictures, containing, as they 
 do, half-a-dozen portrait-studies from the life of the 
 great novelist by the great artist, both of whose 
 names will be for ever inseparably connected with 
 the greater part oi the first half century of " Punch's " 
 existence. 
 
 This year, 1880, saw an appreciative article on 
 
 x 
 
306 
 
 Cljarlcs T&tmt 
 
 Keene's method, from the pen of M. Charpentier, in 
 the fourteenth number of " La Vie Moderne." 
 
 To J. M. Stewart, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Friday. 
 
 [May 16, 1880.] 
 
 " Dear Jack, 
 
 " I had a very pleasant visit to Hook's from 
 Saturday to Monday ; went down with the Dudleys 
 and Macdonald. He has a regular farm, and I 
 enjoyed some real butter. On Monday morning, 
 just as we were coming away, Bri. Hook pressed me 
 to get on his bicycle as it stood in the hall (tiled 
 floor). I was not very sweet on the proposal, but 
 he said he'd hold it, and there was no risk, so I 
 mounted, but in lifting my leg to dismount I suppose 
 I leaned over too much, and the wheel disappeared 
 from under me and I came down 'a buster'! with 
 my heels in the air, in a way, the bystanders said, 
 frightful to behold ! Luckily I did not hurt myself, 
 but with a bruise on my elbow and knee, but his 
 machine was utterly put out of drawing ! We walked 
 afterwards to Farnham, Allan and I and a man 
 named Farquharson, who came down on the Sunday. 
 Did I tell you of the ball at Colin Hunter's? It was 
 considered a great success. I meant to come away 
 early, but asked Mrs. Marcus Stone to dance, and 
 she was engaged till nearly the end, so I was obliged 
 to stay, and went at it with the rest of them, but as I 
 did not eat any supper I was as fresh as paint the 
 
307 
 
 next morning. About a dozen or so of them danced 
 a reel, at which Maccallum was 'great.' Macdonald 
 has gone back. I promised if I could get away in 
 June I'd come and see him for a week in Aberdeen. 
 Had a letter yesterday from Crawhall. He tells me 
 he is going to move from Newcastle more into the 
 country ; is retiring from his firm and going to sell 
 most of his books and pictures (from the bother of 
 moving such a bulk of them). I told him I was 
 sorry for this. I don't know whether I shall see 
 him this summer. I expect all this will prevent our 
 having a jaunt together, as we projected. I've not 
 been to the Academy yet. Poor Lewis pulls a very 
 long face. Mrs. Heseltine gives a ball on 1 ith June. 
 
 I hear M and E are going to stay with the 
 
 Bruces in Argyleshire. I've promised to go to 
 Dudley's on the 26th to meet the B. F.'s. When 
 does Charlie go to the bank? I shall go and see 
 Andrews to-morrow, if possible. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 " Love to the young ones." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 239, King's Road. 
 
 [Received July 16, 1880]. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I hope this will reach you in some remote retreat 
 by sea or river enjoying a holiday this jolly Mid- 
 summer weather, else what's the good of having 
 retired from business ? Would'nt I kick up my heels 
 
3o8 
 
 Cljaito l&eene 
 
 in like case ! and it would be quite refreshing to hear 
 from you, sporting in some of your border wilds. I've 
 snatched a day or two at a time lately at Witley, 
 idling mostly, or an hour or two's sweating at lawn 
 tennis. I met Rob. S. Watson, who came for a day 
 to Foster's. His yarns about his travels in Morocco 
 were amusing, and I'm curious to hear the full parti- 
 culars in the book he is writing. When we got on to 
 political talk, B. F. and I, who are modest Tories, had 
 as much as we could do to hold our own against this 
 radical hot gospeller ! I forget whether I told you that 
 I found it was no use my doing that capital subject 
 you sent me of the Conservative Cook. The ' Punch' 
 people are such pestilent Rads., I should have lost 
 my pains. I'll do the Sportsman with the Hedgehog 
 immediately. I have still six vols, of albums, and 
 whenever I take one up find it is not exhausted — 
 still on tap ! I send you a sketch that was sent me 
 years ago ; I never used it, but it struck me as funny 
 if you did not know it. It would make a good subject 
 for a mug I thought. I have lately become acquainted 
 with the Miss Cobdens, daughters of the celebrated 
 Rich d the Reformer (they must have been quite 
 young children when he died). They are Radicals, 
 of course, zealous for Women's Rights and Electoral 
 Abilities, and are a good deal bitten with the prevail- 
 ing mania for dramatics. I've seen them act in 
 private theatricals, and have met them often at the 
 houses of friends of the Liberal persuasion, and I being 
 on the ' Punch ' staff, they imagined that I was a Rad. 
 with the rest. I astonished them the other day when 
 
Coffee ti. Public ^ou0e0 
 
 309 
 
 I told 'em I was a hot Tory. They asked me one day 
 to a meeting on ' Women's Electoral Disabilities ' at 
 their house. There were to be no end of strong- 
 minded ladies and congenial M.P's. "Discussion 
 invited"! I did not go ('twas in working hours). 
 However, I wrote, if they would send me an epigram 
 from the advanced female point of view, I would 
 make a drawing for ' Punch.' I had also promised to 
 do something on the question of ' Coffee v. Pub. 
 Houses.' They have started one in their country 
 village. Here I'm with them, as I'm a natural tee- 
 totaller. I've racked my brains in vain as yet, and 
 can't devise anything. Here's a chance for you ! I've 
 told them I shall ask the assistance of a friend in the 
 North, a great Wit and Satirist, so think for us over 
 your early pipe. I thought of adapting your drawing 
 in the album of the navvy who did not see the use 
 
 of " foolin' on wi' coffee, when you can burrn yer 
 
 vary liver oot"! but the application actually seems 
 equivocal then ! You may sometimes wonder why 
 some of the best in the albums have not appeared, 
 but I've done a good many on paper, and am saving 
 them to send in if I get away on holidays— Ahasuerus, 
 for instance, etc. I find myself declaiming them as I 
 go home at night, so that I must be often taken for a 
 maniac by people passing, I fancy ! I saw a friend 
 from India yesterday. He loitered through Italy, 
 Rome, Florence, Naples, etc. ; found the cities awfully 
 dirty, and wasn't altogether pleased. He said he met 
 an American tourist who grumbled too. The latter 
 said, "This I-talian climate's all very well, but I assure 
 
Charles Tktmt 
 
 you, sir, I have'nt had a sqiLare meal since I've been 
 in this classic old country"! I think this, with St. 
 Peter's or the leaning tower in the background, will 
 do. 
 
 " I hear two of your nestlings are mating. May I 
 send my congratulations and good wishes ? I shall 
 be sending back your music book soon, as I think I've 
 extracted all I want from it — very nearly the entire 
 contents. I shall enclose some tunes I've picked out 
 from a lot of old ballad operas of the last century ; 
 the titles seem suggestive, and I find some character 
 in the airs. Did you ever see an old book of songs 
 called ' Clio and Euterpe " ? There appear to be two 
 vols. It is printed from copper plates I fancy, with 
 illustrations over each song, some of them pretty. I 
 had a shabby copy with some of the songs torn out, 
 but I've lost one vol., in which was a sea song, with 
 a plate of two sailors and a girl. One of the figures 
 is, I fancy, a boatswain, the costume very good. He 
 wears a heart-shaped gorget by a chain round his 
 neck, with a ship on it, and has his whistle in his 
 hand. I shall not be easy till I pick up this vol. again. 
 I made an initial for ' Punch ' years ago of this figure 
 of the boatswain. It's a sort of a book you would 
 have if ever you met with it. I was looking into 
 Noseda's window in the Strand yesterday, and saw 
 one of those Morlands that Robinson had that I 
 wanted to ' nobble ' — a fine impression, plain, I fancy 
 those we saw were coloured. It was not that one of 
 the Soldier. The next time I'm near there I shall go 
 in and learn the ' figure.' I had looked in at Sotheby 
 
and Wilkinson's, and thought of you. It was a snug 
 little company of dealers having it all their own way 
 with a collection of Rembrandt's etchings. Some very 
 nice ones I saw — heads about this size 1 — knocked 
 down at from one to ten pounds, but I am not an 
 expert. I was after a book in a coming sale. How does 
 Joe get on with his painting ? That disposition he 
 seems to have of getting dissatisfied with his work 
 shows he's a real artist, but try and get him to stick hard 
 to his ideas and work 'em out to the bitter end ! — the 
 end will perhaps be bitter for some time, but it must 
 be swallowed. You'll have to make him realize by 
 keeping him short of money ! Did he carry out that 
 picture of the Shepherd and his Dog in the Highland 
 Cottage? Have you seen any more of our piping 
 friend (Allison) ? The practice-chanter reed he gave 
 me turned out a very good one, but the cane it was 
 made of was not first-rate — not hard enough. I've 
 not found a reed maker yet, and don't expect to find 
 such a one as my old master, Munro ; he had been a 
 carpenter, and understood wood. There was a 
 Scotch ' Games' the other day at Lillie Bridge ground, 
 near me at Chelsea, and I went to hear the pipers. 
 They played all our tunes. I kept by the pipers all 
 the time, did not look at the games — pitching the 
 caber, etc. I think they saw this, and were flattered. 
 I asked one of them about reeds, but they told me 
 of Glen, and I turned up my nose ! I saw a fine figure 
 of a Bagpiper the other day in a design of Albert 
 Durer's, a small figure in background, but exquisitely 
 1 Size indicated on the sheet. 
 
312 
 
 Cljarles Ikeene 
 
 drawn ; I forget the sub- 
 ject, but will find out and 
 make a note of it ; you may 
 know it. I hope I'm not 
 boring you in sending that 
 batch of Alnwick etchings, 
 but as primitive Art I 
 think they are very funny. 
 Are you still thinking of 
 leaving Eldon Square ? 
 'Tis a well-built, warm 
 house. You leave winter 
 outside when you pass the 
 door. Beware of the 
 Modern Villa ! — modern 
 builders are rogues all ! — 
 see Ruskin. 
 
 " Saturday Morning, 
 July loth, 1880. — -I'm 
 thinking I've bored you 
 enough with my disjointed 
 ramblings, but I shall send 
 this off to-day anyhow. I 
 daren't read what I've writ- 
 ten, and only hope I shall 
 not repeat myself. I had 
 two or three days with 
 Harry Foster, at Witley. 
 How do you like him ? 
 We all think him a very jolly youngster. He talks 
 of getting up a lawn tennis ground somewhere in 
 
 A NORTH BRITON. 
 
&n anatomical 31nfant 
 
 313 
 
 Newcastle. You should go in for this pastime ; good 
 for liver, I should think. It suits me. I like a game 
 that stretches the muscles thoroughly, or else one of 
 utter physical quiet, such as chess. A dawdling sort 
 of game sends me to sleep. Billiards makes me 
 yawn — but I forgot you are a fisherman. That's a 
 different thing. My Irish angler says he is always 
 in a tremble with excitement the first day he has in 
 the year. He is married now, and says his fishing is 
 a good deal stopped ! They were in great trouble 
 about the first baby. It could not take milk, and 
 was a poor emaciated little bantling ; but I consoled 
 him when he told me, and congratulated him on the 
 chance he had got — that there was no drawing at all 
 in the ordinary fat maggot of a babby, but here was 
 an artist blessed with a nice anatomical bony infant, 
 such as Albert Durer and the early German masters 
 drew from, and gave such character to their Holy 
 Families. I believe he took the hint, as I've heard 
 he has made no end of nude studies from it ; and only 
 just in time, as they say it is fattening. Stevenson is 
 building at his castle in Argyleshire. He asked me to 
 go there, and I should if I could have been there in 
 June or July, but I don't care to go later; and then they 
 have other visitors, so I shall put it off till next year. 
 I should like to be in Scotland when it is nearly day- 
 light at midnight. My friend Macdonald wants me 
 to go to Aberdeen, but I shall wait till next year for 
 the same reason. On reconsidering, I won't bore 
 you with those prints yet ; will wait for a quieter 
 time. If you are not very busy you ought to be 
 
3H 
 
 Cfjarle<5 Ikunt 
 
 taking your diversion in a holiday, and I think you 
 should for your health. I'm much obliged to you 
 for sending an invitation to Miss Hooper; I hope 
 she'll send you something respectable. She has a 
 
 friend, a Miss M , who promises to be a rattling 
 
 fine animal paintress, devilish pretty girl too ; her 
 work is perhaps a little too strong and manly. She 
 beats her brother, a fine-looking fellow about 6ft. 3m., 
 who paints little landskapes — (used to be spelled 
 with a ' k' I think, so we'll leave it !). I met a lady 
 the other evening, an artist (!), who had never heard 
 of Bewick ! I asked her if she knew Boyce, the 
 painter. She said she did, so I told her to ask him 
 who he was. Don't trouble to answer this if you 
 are taking holiday, which I hope you are ; and with 
 kindest regards to Mrs. Crawhall, and the boys and 
 girls, I am, 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 The following month Mr. Crawhall published 
 " Border Notes, and Mixty-Maxty," and dedicated 
 it quaintly 
 
 "To Charles S. Keene, 
 This 10th of August, 1880, 
 Greeting, 
 These." 
 
 In May, 1881, Keene's mother died, at the ad- 
 vanced age of eighty-three. To her, to whom he owed 
 so much, he had been a devoted son, and for him 
 she had always the very deepest affection. " I'm still 
 
2DeatIj of Iji'S S^otljer 315 
 
 busy," he writes to Mr. Stewart, in 1880, " but hope 
 to be able to get down on Thursday if my mother 
 keeps well, but she has been ailing lately, and she 
 says she sleeps better when I'm at home, so I don't 
 like to be away for long." In April, 1881, he wrote 
 to Mrs. Edwards : " My poor old mother is on her 
 death-bed. They say she has no specific disease, 
 and so does not suffer so much, but enough to make 
 it a hard trial for her and for us. Her look, and 
 the tones of her voice, ' go to the marrow of my 
 bones,' and knock me over very much. We watch 
 by her day and night, and shall to the end — my 
 brother and I." 
 
 And to Mr. Stewart, April 28 : " The grand 
 ' Sparrow ' lineaments come out in her features as 
 death approaches, and the tones of her voice go to 
 the ' marrow of my bones.' Excuse all this." 
 
 To Alexander Macdonalci, Esq. 
 
 " 82, Hammersmith Road, 
 
 11 May 6th, '81. 
 
 " Dear Macdonald, 
 
 " I went to town yesterday morning and called 
 at No. 85, Jermyn Street, but found you had gone ; 
 but I should have been a ' sorry visitor.' My poor 
 mother's condition for two or three days has been 
 distressing to us — alive, that is all. I took my watch 
 this morning as usual from 12 to 5 a.m., and after 
 getting a little sleep I was called up again. I could 
 not feel her pulse ; she drew a few breaths calmly ; 
 another — she was gone ! I can't write any more 
 
3i6 
 
 Cljaules Ikttm 
 
 just now, but my heart is lighter now she is released 
 from her pain. 
 
 " Thanks for your and Mrs. Macdonald's kind 
 sympathy. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Alexander Macdonald, Esq. 
 
 "82, Hammersmith Road, 
 
 "$th June, [881. 
 
 " Dear Macdonald, 
 
 " I had a run into Suffolk last week, and I still 
 have the hope of getting a short holiday and running 
 up to see you. 
 
 " I ought to have answered Mrs. Macdonald's 
 kind letter, but it is difficult to write in heavy spirits, 
 and since my poor mother's death I find I have to 
 undertake affairs and responsibilities I have not been 
 used to. 
 
 " I was staying in Suffolk with a bookish old 
 scholar (Fitzgerald), one of the old school — friend 
 of Carlyle's and Tennyson and Thackeray, and we 
 talked art and the belles lettres all day in his garden, 
 and smoked long churchwarden pipes in the evening. 
 
 " I find he is a ' great unknown ' poet in certain 
 literary circles in town — I mean the Rossetti set — 
 and that a certain translation that he made of some 
 Persian poems, 1 and published anonymously, and 
 another book — translations of Calderon's plays — are 
 considered by them as the greatest works of the age ! 
 
 1 The "Rubaiyat" of Omar Khayyam. 
 
317 
 
 When I told W. B. Scott, one of this circle, that I 
 knew this great genius and had been staying with 
 him, he jumped in his chair. 
 
 " I was dining at the Freemason's Tavern the 
 other evening (this is not in my line, but it was in- 
 evitable), and, as I came out, I heard a pibroch in 
 some part of the hotel where a regimental dinner was 
 going on. I was entranced, and stood and listened. 
 I had dropped the chanter for months, and it has set 
 me on again. 
 
 " I won't forget to bring Crawhall's book for you 
 to see. If I come by rail I must stay a day at 
 Newcastle with him. 
 
 " Kindest regards to Mrs. Macdonald. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 
 " Chelsea. 
 [June 19, 1 88 1.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " How are you all in Eldon Square ? I ought to 
 have congratulated you immediately on hearing the 
 news of the festivity in your house. Will you give 
 the young people my greetings and good wishes 
 the first opportunity ? How did you like putting on 
 the 'yellow waistcoat.' (Note, a yellow waistcoat 
 seems to be the proper costume of the ' heavy 
 father' on the stage, when he gives his blessing 
 at the end of the last act.) We insist on Birket 
 
3i8 
 
 Cljacles latent 
 
 Foster donning this symbolical article when his 
 daughter is married next month. He dreads it 
 hugely. 
 
 "It was a time of great heaviness with us all 
 when my mother died. She had always been with 
 us and was very happy, and the world seemed 
 changed without her, but this feeling, I suppose, 
 passes away like all other things. I went to stay 
 with my old friend Fitzgerald, the old scholar, 
 at Woodbridge, Suffolk. I think I've mentioned 
 him to you. I showed him ' Mixty-Maxty.' He was 
 very pleased with it ; one distich stuck to him, and 
 he was very fond of it — 
 
 ' O'er meadows of kingcups and culverkeys 
 Trip it the livelong summer's day,' etc. 
 
 He's a great admirer of Bewick. We strolled about 
 in his garden talking ' Shakespeare and the musical 
 glasses/ books, etc. I find since I've been back that 
 he is a ' great unknown ' genius in some high critical 
 circles. I was mentioning my visits to W. B. Scott, 
 who is one of the Rossetti, Swinburne, etc., set, and 
 of my friend having translated some Persian poems 
 and Calderon's plays, etc. He jumped off his chair! 
 ' Do you know him ? Why, Ram Jam' (some won- 
 derful Persian name he gave it) ' is the most quite 
 too exquisite work of the age, and Rossetti considers 
 
 the translations from Calderon the finest thine 
 
 etc., etc. So I shall tell the old man. I don't know 
 whether he'll be pleased. W. B. Scott showed me 
 his collection of first editions. He must have sunk 
 
CIjoDotot'eclu 
 
 319 
 
 a good sum in the purchase. I still cannot keep out 
 of the book-shops and sales. The last good thing I 
 picked up was an edition of 'Clarissa Harlowe' in 
 French, in 10 vols. ! with two etchings of Chodo- 
 wiecki's in each. I feel terribly tempted to sacrifice 
 the book and cut 'em out. Do you know this artist's 
 works ? I consider him the most extraordinary 
 demon of industry (and very excellent art of its sort) 
 I ever knew of. He has to be discovered. I'd bet 
 that four British R.A.'s out of seven would not know 
 his name. I've collected an infinitesimal pinch of 
 his handiwork. Scott says there was a great sale of 
 a collection a little while ago that he did not 
 know of at the time, and they went at very small 
 prices. Menzel, the great German artist who is 
 being ' discovered ' now, is a follower in his track. 
 Menzel has been elected an hon. member of the 
 O. W. C. Society, and some of his drawings are 
 exhibited there now. I have a book of his that I 
 bought twenty odd years ago new for eighteen bob, 
 and D uncan, the publisher, says you could not get it 
 now under fifty pounds ! I imagine the stones must 
 have been destroyed. I'm trying to get away for a 
 fortnight to go and see my friend Macdonald at 
 Aberdeen ; have promised every year for five years, 
 and have got a little ahead with my work to that 
 end. I'm thinking of going by steamer ; I hate 
 so long a railway journey. If the weather is 
 hot it's a delightful trip, but I shall not go unless 
 I can get away early in July. If I go and come 
 back by rail, and you should be at home, may I 
 
320 
 
 Cljatto luene 
 
 have a day's rest at Newcastle ? Macdonald goes 
 to his office at his granite works, and I stroll about 
 the old town, spending a good deal of time at New- 
 castle 1 poring over the bookstalls in the market, but 
 the Scotch bookstalls are terribly distended with 
 fusty Scotch Diveenity !— not much to be picked up. 
 I'm almost afraid to take my pipes with me. When 
 I was there before I used to practise a good deal 
 in Macdonald's garden, but I have not touched 'em 
 for months. I've been amusing myself lately with 
 learning by heart most of the least indecent of the 
 old seventeenth and eighteenth century catches ; 
 very clever and amusing some of them. The com- 
 posers don't seem to be very well known, except 
 their names. This makes them the more interest- 
 ing to me, and I've formed a sort of idea of many 
 of them — Dr. Green, Gregory, Hilton, Crawford, 
 Nelham, the great Purcell, etc., etc. M. Nelham 
 mostly wrote his in the bass clef ; evidently had a 
 bass voice, and wrote 'em to sing himself. Green's 
 are very good, mostly in a minor key, and amusingly 
 melancholy. Have you done anything in the musical 
 way lately ? If ever you hear of a copy of the 
 ' Vocal Magazine,' published at Edinburgh, I think 
 (you have a copy, I fancy), I wish you'd pick it up 
 for me. I have not heard any news in the Art way 
 lately. I very seldom see Lawson, so I don't know 
 whether he has sold his picture. He has had an 
 addition to his family. How does the Art Society 
 get on ? Have they found a secretary to work as 
 
 1 Aberdeen. 
 
Collecting; 
 
 321 
 
 you did ? I ween not ! You see I still cull from 
 the Albums. 1 enclose the sketch I did for one 
 lately ; they say the sitting figure is like me. I 
 sketched the pose in the looking-glass, and tried to 
 disguise the model, but failed, I suppose. You must 
 have been on Coquetside since I wrote, or elsewhere 
 ' by rivers to whose falls,' etc. I shall be glad to 
 hear of your adventures. Picked up any more stone 
 hatchets, palaeolithic or otherwise ? I found with 
 great pleasure the other day that Harry Moore, the 
 landscape painter, was a 'flint' man, and had got a 
 small collection of scrapers he had picked up himself. 
 He came and saw my little store, and I had the 
 honour of giving him some. I felt myself quite a 
 small ' Greenwell.' I've fixed the photographic pre- 
 sentment you sent me of the Canon in his Barrow 
 Book. I met Peter Toft one night at a studio 
 smoking party, but he has not been to see me 
 yet. I hope you've had good news of the emigrant 
 Hugh. I looked up Nebraska, and it seems a 
 splendid climate. Let me know if Joe is in town, 
 and if he is at the same address. With kindest 
 regards to all yours, 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 The following extracts from letters may be read 
 with interest, as showing that Keene was by no 
 means the recluse that he was by many supposed 
 to be. Indeed, had it not been for the conscientious 
 determination with which he subordinated every 
 
 Y 
 
322 
 
 Ctjarlc0 Itone 
 
 enjoyment to his work, there is little doubt but 
 that inclination would have led him to make many 
 visits which his duties forced him to abandon. He 
 delighted in the companionship of young people, 
 with whom he was a special favourite. Indeed as 
 a partner in the mazy waltz, up to the age of sixty, 
 he outrivalled many an eligible bachelor of half his 
 age. One of his blooming young partners a few- 
 years ago — so few, indeed, that she can be but 
 young still — is said to have been laughed at for her 
 partiality, and asked whether she intended to marry 
 Mr. Keene. " I would if he would only ask me." she 
 replied, and I think she more than half meant what 
 she said. 
 
 Of his own waltzing powers, being at the time 
 laid up with a bad leg, he wrote with becoming 
 modesty in 1876: "I was engaged to spend the 
 holiday at Birket Foster's, where they celebrate the 
 season with old-fashioned jollity, play-acting, and 
 dancing, and I'm a useful hack waltzer (for my age), 
 but I'm out of the running this year." And in 1884 
 he wrote, being then, it must be remembered, sixty- 
 one years of age : " I was at a dance the other night 
 for the first time in my life without 'tripping it.' 
 Everything must have an end ! " 
 
 Whether, however, he did give up the pastime 
 even then, appears to be doubtful, for he had written, 
 seven years before this, to Mr. Crawhall as if of his 
 final appearance, and, if he took a further lease from 
 senility then, there is no reason why he should not 
 have done so yet again. 
 
SDancing: 
 
 323 
 
 It was on January 27, 1877, ne na< ^ written, " For 
 the fancy ball I'm afraid it's a little too late. I was 
 at a hop on the 1 8th — my last ! when, I consider, I 
 took leave of the floor as a dancing man, after a good 
 innings ; and my last fancy dress, which has long 
 been kicked about in my studio, is half-devoured by 
 moth ! and past refurbishing, if I were fain to think 
 of it." 
 
 To J. M. Stewart, Esq. 
 
 " 239 King's Road, 
 " Chelsea, 
 
 " Friday night. 
 
 [Aug. 6, 1 88 1.] 
 
 " Dear Jack, 
 
 " I got back last week from my trip, which I 
 enjoyed very much. I went to Aberdeen by steamer 
 30 ! — started on Wednesday night. On Thursday 
 morning when I went on deck it was blowing pretty 
 fresh, and she was dipping bows under a good deal, 
 and to my surprise I was a little qualmish ! — only 
 looked at the breakfast — rushed up and had a cat ! — 
 but I was all right again by dinner-time ; but it was 
 cold, though the weather was fine, and, coming from 
 London in that great heat, it was just by chance I 
 took a great coat at all ! I had a thinnish one, but 
 should have been glad of my thickest pea-jacket. 
 There was only one corner of the vessel where you 
 could light a pipe for the wind. I reached Aberdeen 
 about eight on Thursday morning, and got to Mac- 
 donald's before they were up, but there was a good 
 roaring fire ! (July 9th). I stayed ten days with him, 
 
324 
 
 Cljacleg Ikzzm 
 
 and went back by rail, stopping a week with 
 Crawhall. It was a little warmer there, but not 
 much. I hope you've been all right. I'm writing to 
 Mrs. Forster that I will go there, if they can take 
 me, next Saturday till Monday. Can't stop away for 
 long just now, as my sisters are away, and there is 
 no one in the house but me. If I can, I may come 
 on the Friday, and will perhaps write to you again. 
 I've had a go in at Cholera since I've been back, 
 but am all right again. I'm going to-morrow till 
 Monday to Medmenham, to stay in a house- 
 boat. I rather dread it, but have shirked going for 
 two years, and now can't get out of it. More when I 
 see you next week. Give my love to the young ones, 
 " And I am, 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 It was during the above-mentioned visit tt> 
 Kepplestone that Mr. (now Sir) George Reid painted 
 Keene for Mr. Macdonald's collection of Artists' 
 portraits. 
 
 This was subsequently reproduced in the March 
 number of the "Magazine of Art," 1 891, to illustrate 
 Mr. Spielmann's article "In Memoriam." 1 
 
 To Alexander Macdonald, Esq. 
 
 " 239 King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 {August 19, 1 881.] 
 
 " Dear Macdonald, 
 
 " I ought to have written to you before, but had 
 1 Vide p. 238 above. 
 
325 
 
 such a batch of letters to answer when I got home. 
 I had, besides, a sort of feeling of depression at my 
 pleasant holiday being over. I had a kind letter 
 from Mrs. Macdonald, with something I left behind. 
 I hope she went to the " Art Work " competition. 
 
 " At Newcastle I found Crawhall busy acknowledg- 
 ing cheques for his book. One day we went to 
 Warkworth, and I saw the Crystal Coquet, his 
 favourite river. Another day we made a pilgrimage 
 to Ovingham, to Bewick's tomb. We called on Miss 
 Bewick (over ninety) ; she gave me a rare proof of 
 one of the old man's woodcuts. 
 
 " I picked up a little prize the other day at a sale 
 for a few shillings — a little box of reindeer bones 
 and flint knives, from the floor of a cave in the 
 Dordogne, France, with a note stuck on the lid 
 inside, that they were given to the owner by 
 * Christie,' the prehistoric collector, who left his 
 museum to the nation. There's a strange romance 
 about these things to me ! The reindeer in Europe 
 means an awful long time ago ! 
 
 " Tell me how the C. K. portrait is liked. I 
 suppose you'll see Millais this autumn — I heard he 
 had gone to Scotland. 
 
 " So now I send my love to my kind host and 
 hostess at Kepplestone, and remembrances to all 
 my friends. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 "Tell Mrs. Macdonald, with my thanks for her 
 
326 
 
 Cljadeg l&eene 
 
 kindness, that, with one of my stews and a pot of 
 Kepplestone jam and a book, I would'nt change 
 dinners with a lord ! " 
 
 To J. M. Stewart, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 {Oct. 2 1881.] 
 
 " Dear Jack, 
 
 " I got back on Monday. On the previous 
 Saturday week went to Fitzgerald's, and on Monday 
 we went to visit his friend Crabbe, a parson, grand- 
 son of the poet. His parish is in an out-of-yr-way 
 part of Norfolk, We had to change five times in 
 getting there by rail, and had to wait four hours in 
 Norwich. While there we went into a pastry- 
 cook's for lunch. There were other people there. 
 Presently a man on my right addressed me — knew 
 me at Langham School. I knew his face but forget 
 his name. He was a friend of Smallfield's. Presently 
 another man on my left spoke to me, and asked 
 ' how Mrs. Edwards was ' ! I didn't know him at 
 all. We got to the parsonage to tea. Another 
 visitor joined us on the road, Aldis Wright, a Fellow 
 of Cambridge and friend of Fitzgerald, one of the 
 Shakespeare commentators and a philologist. Crabbe 
 is a very nice fellow, about fifty, a widower, living 
 with his daughter. The country is pretty, all oak- 
 trees and woods, with an Elizabethan Hall close by, 
 Lord Walsingham's, which I saw. The cottages 
 about are all either thatched or red tiles, so that was 
 
327 
 
 pleasant. The parson and Wright used to retire 
 about 10 p.m., but Fitzgerald and I sat and smoked 
 in the greenhouse for a couple of hours more. He 
 is a capital companion. His talk is of books and 
 poetry. He's a great scholar ; a slashing critic about 
 pictures — his taste is for the old masters ; and he 
 knew all the literary men about town in Thackeray's 
 early time. In look and 'build' he's just such a man 
 as ' Old Silver'; you remember him. I'm sometimes 
 nearly addressing him ' Old 'un,' as we did Old 
 Silver. We came back to Woodbridge on Thursday, 
 and on Monday I had a few hours at Ipswich and 
 came home at night. Saw Jack. His daughter's 
 to be married next month. They made me promise 
 to go. Poor Harry has two children ill with rheu- 
 matism, the eldest boy and girl. I hope you've been 
 better. I saw Myles on Wednesday ; he says 
 B. F. is still at Bettys. 
 
 " Remember me to the children and all at Witley. 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To A lexander Macdonald, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 "6 October, 1881. 
 
 " Dear Macdonald, 
 
 " The Almanack hard work is beginning, so 
 if you've any good sporting or fishing stories by 
 you think of me. I had a difficult letter to write 
 yesterday. Menzel, the great German artist, sent 
 
328 
 
 Cljade0 l&eene 
 
 me a couple of photos from pictures of his. I've 
 known and admired his work all my life, and set 
 him up as the great master in Europe, so I was 
 embarrassed in thanking him. I forget if you know 
 of his work. He drew a good deal on wood, and 
 I know him mostly from engravings. I'm sending 
 him a few scraps of sketches with great trepidation, 
 lest he should not see anything in them and think 
 me conceited. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 This year Messrs. Bradbury and Agnew pub- 
 lished a collection of 400 of Keene's "Punch" 
 drawings in a volume called " Our People." 1 This 
 marvellous collection of pictures is obtainable now 
 in the market, and is within reach of the pockets of 
 any one who has a few shillings to invest in an 
 inexhaustible mine of elevating enjoyment. It is a 
 volume which no true lover of Art can afford to be 
 without. 
 
 To Andrew W. Tuer, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 " Dear Tuer, 
 
 " Many thanks for your kind present of the 
 bonny ' Cries.' I have not had time to read it yet, 
 but it's an interesting subject. There was one 'cry' 
 
 1 By a curious mistake one of Mr. Corbould's pictures was 
 inserted on page 131, entitled "Compliments of the Season." 
 
329 
 
 I remember when a boy (I see it is in your book) — 
 ' Four bunches a penny, sweet lavender,' in a beauti- 
 ful musical phrase. I have seen it noted, but did 
 not take a copy. I've often thought of writing to 
 ' Notes and Q.' if any musician of the period can 
 remember it. 
 
 " I see the ' Chaplets ' 1 everywhere. I was very 
 pleased with Crawhall's presentation copy, but I 
 intended to have it. Don't forget that I subscribe 
 for an early copy of ' Olde Freends ' when it comes 
 out. 
 
 " I have drawn your story of the ' Serving Maid 
 and the Parson' — ' Etiquette.' 
 
 " I fancy Crawhall told me of a further selection 
 of old ballads. Note that one, ' Ragged and torn 
 and true,' in the Roxburgh collection ; a capital one 
 for him to illustrate. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 The following recollections of Keene, kindly sup- 
 plied to me by Miss Jean Ingelow, will be read with 
 interest : — 
 
 " You have asked for any personal recollections 
 I may have of the late Charles Keene. His chief 
 intimacies, however, in our family were with my 
 brothers, not with me. That he was a most original 
 character, as well as a delightful companion, no one 
 who knew him could doubt, but, when he made his 
 appearance to have a chat or a smoke and play at 
 
 1 " Chap-Book Chaplets," by Joseph Crawhall. 
 
33o 
 
 Charles 1&eene 
 
 billiards with my brothers, it was generally so late 
 that I was about to retire for the night. 
 
 " On such occasions, knowing that he had ap- 
 peared, I used to come in for a few minutes, and I 
 have no more vivid recollection of him than when, 
 standing in his well-worn travelling costume, he 
 would loose the knapsack from his shoulders and 
 relate some anecdote which he had brought from the 
 Eastern Counties and was illustrating for ' Punch.' 
 Suffolk was always his favourite hunting-ground, 
 and his command of the dialect was not unnaturally 
 perfect, for he was of an Ipswich family. When his 
 face was in repose his features were fine, and his air 
 was full of careless ease ; but, if he woke up and 
 began to tell of some countrified ' yokel ' whom he 
 had met with, his black eyes would blaze and his 
 whole face would assume the very look and expres- 
 sion he had caught from the life and nature of the 
 countryman whom he was imitating. 
 
 " That he cared very little for appearance is true, 
 but stories used to go about concerning him which 
 were pure invention. I have been told by people 
 who professed to know him that he would not go out 
 to dinner-parties because he would not be at the 
 trouble of wearing evening dress, and, in fact, never 
 had any ; yet I can testify that for many years he 
 was in the habit of dining with us by invitation, and 
 then he was always arrayed like any other English- 
 man of the period. 
 
 " On such occasions he appeared very unconscious 
 of himself, but showed an artist's pleasure and quick- 
 
331 
 
 ness in noticing the features and humours of those 
 about him. His own appearance was fine and 
 distinguished ; and I must be forgiven for having 
 noticed all this particularly, as well as the impres- 
 sion he made, for the manner in which he used to 
 array himself by habit and choice when he was going 
 about his business was by no means so becoming 
 to him. 
 
 " You ask if we have any letters of Charles 
 Keene's. The intimate friend in our family through 
 whom all the others knew him was my eldest brother 
 George ; they lived in the same house for more 
 than two years when, as very young men, they both 
 came to London. Then my brother went to India 
 and they corresponded, and the letters were copiously 
 illustrated on both sides. I have seen some of these 
 letters. Mr. Keene showed us some of my brother's, 
 and got him to let some of the drawings in them be 
 put into the ' Illustrated London News.' 
 
 " I think Charles Keene's letters must still be in 
 existence, though afterwards my brother went to 
 Singapore, and then to Sydney. This much-loved 
 brother died many years ago, but I have written to 
 my nephew, his eldest son, to make inquiries, and if 
 this correspondence is preserved and in his keeping 
 it shall be sent to you. 1 
 
 " He was always friendly and good-natured, and 
 at one time, when one of my sisters began to learn 
 wood-engraving, he used to give her hints and help ; 
 
 1 Miss Ingelow writes later that she fears the letters have not 
 been saved. 
 
332 
 
 Cljai1e<$ luetic 
 
 then, as she got on, he drew more than a dozen 
 drawings for her on the block. These, which she cut 
 out and treasures still, are full of his peculiar style. 
 Some of them, she thinks, are none the better for 
 having been rendered by her 'prentice hand, but 
 others are quite as good as the usual illustrations 
 of books, and he encouraged her to think she 
 would be a proficient in the art ; but the usual thing 
 followed — she married, and never did one engraving 
 afterwards. I expect to hear something definite of 
 the correspondence with my brother in a few days, 
 and will write again. 
 
 " I am, 
 
 " Yours very truly, 
 
 "Jean Ingelow." 
 
 Of Keene's appearance in the later years of his 
 life Mr. Mills also writes : " In person he was tall and 
 upright, with a singularly noble head and counten- 
 ance, resembling a handsome (ideal) Don Quixote. 
 He rarely wore a black coat, his clothes (of which 
 he always had several suits) being made of Cheviot 
 or other coloured material. I don't think I ever saw 
 him in a silk hat — always a ' billycock ' or ' wide- 
 awake.' Very particular about his boots s which he 
 had from a first-rate West-end maker. He often 
 carried a bag slung over his shoulders with a leathern 
 strap. He never carried an umbrella however in- 
 clement the weather might be, often getting wet 
 through two or three times a day." 
 
 " One who knew him," writing in the " Pall Mall 
 
appearance 
 
 333 
 
 Gazette," said : " He was a fine, picturesque figure, 
 singularly like Don Quixote in form and feature, 
 with his spareness of build, his moustache and 
 pointed beard, and his parchmenty skin." 
 
 He had a somewhat swaggering gait, the con- 
 sequence, I am told, of an injury to one of his legs in 
 early years. " I do likes to see Mr. Keene out o' 
 doors," said a servant maid, referring, no doubt, to 
 this peculiarity ; " he do walk just like a lord." 
 
 Of the portrait given in this chapter he wrote to 
 Mr. Crawhall : " Did Alec Stevenson send you a 
 photo he took of me when I was up at Oban ? It is 
 very good considering it was late in the day and not 
 very light. I was out of sorts with liver at the time, 
 which I think the face shows." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 "Chelsea. 
 
 \_June 9, 1882.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I hope this may find you at Warkworth, resting 
 at your ease and inhaling the fresh summer air, but 
 not wading for trout like a youngster. By-the-by, 
 I've stepped suddenly into age ! Having put it off 
 for years, and lately having been much badgered by 
 friends, especially Macdonald, I've given in and been 
 to a dentist, a gigantic Scot, Hepburn ' night.' To 
 shorten a long story, he comfortably suffocated me 
 for about a minute, and when I came to I found 
 
.334 
 
 Cfjatles l&mu 
 
 myself without a tusk in my jaws. About nine or 
 ten there were, I believe, and some, he said, were 
 taut ones ! It was a match against time, and he had 
 won ! 
 
 " I was pretty miserable that day, and did not 
 properly dine ! It was an extraordinary experience, 
 but it puts me in the background for six weeks at 
 least. They say I shall get used to it. I must try 
 and see Tuer, though ; there's a good long twilight 
 at this time of year, and I'll try and interview him in 
 the gloamin' ! So, you see, I don't think I shall be 
 able to come northwards yet awhile, much as I should 
 like to accept your kind invitation and lounge about 
 •old Warkworth with you. I had a very pleasant 
 week just before this dental business with my old 
 friend Fitzgerald in Suffolk. I think I've told you 
 of him — an old bookish scholar, friend of Tennyson's 
 and Thackeray's in the old days, and of Tom Car- 
 lyle's, the Diogenes of Chelsea. You should know 
 -old Fitz.'s translation of Omar Kyam's (sic) poem. 
 He was a Persian agnostic poet and tent-maker in 
 •one of the early centuries. W e talked of books and 
 poetry and music till deep in the night. He knows 
 you from me, and is much interested in your idea of 
 jsl ballad opera. He believes it might be well done 
 with W. Scott's ' Pirate,' and I've persuaded him to 
 draw up his plot, which he seems to have concocted. 
 Two acts ; only one girl, Minna or Brenda ; the 
 witch, a contralto ; the men, a tenor and bass, and 
 the pirates (chorus) not to appear till second act. 
 The scenery would be good too. This is what I. 
 
(EDtoarti f it^geralti 
 
 335 
 
 remember of his talk of it, but will send you his 
 sketch, which he promises. I will send you also a 
 beautiful letter from a Turkish cadi that I copied 
 
 A CRYING CHILD. 
 
 from his commonplace book, which ought to be 
 illuminated in gold. He calls this scrap-book ' Half- 
 hours with the Worst Authors'! He wished me to 
 ask you about an angling book which old Carlyle 
 
336 
 
 Cljatrlcs Ikunt 
 
 used to speak of to him and praise (!). It is either 
 'John Kelso Hunter's Autobiography' or else John 
 Hunter of Kelso. I fancy the latter is most likely. 
 Do you know of the book? I have lately had a 
 book o-iven me which I think I must send to 
 Waters— ' Philip de Comines,' 16— . It is rather 
 dilapidated ; no title page. I should leave it to him 
 to restore, if he could, or rebind, but not to cut. 
 Some leaves at end to mend. Haydon wants me 
 to go down with him to his chalk stream at Whit- 
 church in Hampshire. He has a fishing cottage 
 there, an hour and half from London and a mile and 
 a half walk ; but I'm afraid just now— obliged to live 
 on spoon meat ! 
 
 " I saw Stephenson when he was in town, about 
 three weeks ago. He was busy about his Swan 
 lights. I'm afraid the lawyers will get a lot of 
 money from these companies before they are settled. 
 He wanted me to go with them to their Highland 
 castle. I had the story of the poor stag. The baby 
 grows apace and pretty. What is Joe doing,— has 
 he sold ? and has Hugh got his feet hard again ? 
 I'm still a little lame — fancy I jarred my foot dropping 
 off busses while on the move,— am painting my foot 
 with iodine. 
 
 " Heseltine bought most of my drawings at Stewart's 
 sale. I have not been to the Academy yet, or the 
 Grosvenor. I hope my new jaw won't stand in the 
 way of my pipes. Have been solacing myself in 
 these days of Irish sedition and sneaking murder by 
 learning 4 The Boyne W^ater.' 
 
25oofc0 
 
 337 
 
 " Give my love to all yours, and have more to say, 
 so will write again anon. 
 
 " I am, ever yours, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Craw kail , Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 \June 24, 1882.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I hope you'll be refreshed and set up by the 
 change to Coquet and the seaside and rest. Oh, 
 how I should like some medicine of that sort ! I 
 saw Tuer one day. He told me he was in correspon- 
 dence with you about the book. If you don't bring 
 it out yourself, I think you could not have it in 
 better hands. I fancy he's a sharp man of business, 
 and will work it well, as he has a good ' connection ' 
 and has some taste. I've a strong idea for a book 
 for you to take up next. I mean the book of Nor- 
 thumberland tunes that the Antiquarian Society 
 contemplate.. This is just suited for your head- and 
 tail-pieces and decoration. It might make the ordi- 
 nary edition too expensive, but could you not arrange 
 to bring out an edition de luxe, illustrated by J. C. ? 
 Take care not to let the local limners hear of the 
 " Pie." The names of the tunes seem to me so 
 suggestive of illustration. Landscape, figures, still 
 life, etc., etc. N.B. — Work away at sketching 
 localities with this view. When I say, ' edition de 
 luxe,' I hate the thing and the name. I mean a 
 
 z 
 
338 
 
 Cljatlea Tktzm 
 
 comparatively limited issue, but not in gorgeous, 
 expensive binding. Boards for choice, but decorated. 
 I'm certain the proper device for the cover of the 
 book would be a drawing of a set of small pipes in 
 the style of those Scotch ones in ' Mixty-Maxty,' just 
 in the middle of the title. This might be common 
 to both editions, the big and the small. By-the-by, 
 make it a sine qua non that if ' Come you from New- 
 castle ? ' be not the title of this last book (Tuer's), 
 it be put in the title-page as a motto, — it is so pretty 
 and apt. 
 
 "When I was at Fitzgerald's I copied the enclosed 
 letter from his scrap-book. He forgets where he 
 copied it from. I think it's beautiful, and it's as 
 good as any sermon you will hear in Warkworth to- 
 morrow. I think I shall write it some day in black 
 letter, with an illuminated initial ! 
 
 " It's very sad, the death of poor C. Lawson, but 
 when I first knew him he had the red spot on his cheek 
 which suggested his doom. I shall be glad to hear 
 what you think of my suggestion about the music- 
 book. I've not yet been fitted with the Carkerian 
 contrivance ! What a miserable dog I shall be, till I 
 get used to 'em. You did not tell me if you knew 
 of that angling book, ' John Kelso Hunter,' or ' John 
 Hunter of Kelso' — I'm curious to know the book 
 that Carlyle praised. 
 
 " Love to all with you. 
 
 " More anon. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene. 
 
339 
 
 " Letter from a Turkish Cadi to a travelling 
 Englishman, (a friend of Layard's), who wrote to him 
 for information as to the commerce, population, and 
 antiquities of his town. 
 
 " ' My Illustrious Friend and Joy of my Liver, 
 
 " ' The thing you ask of me is both difficult and 
 useless.. Although I have passed all my days in 
 this place, I have neither counted the houses nor 
 have I inquired into the number of the inhabitants, 
 and as to what one person loads on his mules, and the 
 other stows away in the bottom of his ships, that is no 
 business of mine. But above all, as to the previous 
 history of this city. God only knows the amount of 
 dirt and confusion the infidels may have eaten before 
 the coming of the sword of Islam. It were unprofit- 
 able for us to inquire into it. Oh my soul ! oh my 
 lamb ! seek not after things that concern thee not ! 
 Thou earnest unto us and we welcomed thee ! Go 
 in peace. Of a truth thou hast spoken many words. 
 There is no harm done, for the speaker is one, and 
 the listener another. After the fashion of thy people, 
 thou hast wandered from one place to another until 
 thou art happy and content in none. We (praise to 
 God) were born here and never desire to quit it. 
 Is it possible that the idea of a general communica- 
 tion between mankind should make any impression 
 on our understandings ? God forbid ! Listen, oh my 
 son, there is no wisdom equal to belief in God! He 
 created the world, and shall we liken ourselves unto 
 him in seeking to penetrate into the mysteries 
 
34Q 
 
 of His creation ? Shall we say, Behold this star 
 spinneth round that star ! and this other star with a 
 tail goeth and cometh in so many years ! — Let it go I 
 He from whose hand it came will guide and direct 
 it ! But thou wilt say, Stand aside, oh man, for I am 
 more learned than thou art, and have seen more 
 things. If thou thinkest that thou art in this respect 
 better than I am, thou art welcome. I praise God 
 that I seek not that which I require not ; thou art 
 learned in things I care not for, and as for that which 
 thou hast seen, I defile it ! Will much knowledge 
 make thee a double belly, or wilt thou see Paradise 
 with thine eye ? Oh my friend, if thou wilt be 
 happy, say, There is no God but God. Do no evil, 
 and thus thou wilt fear neither man nor death, for 
 surely thine hour will come. 
 
 " ' The meek in spirit, 
 
 " ' El Fakir Imaum Ali Zade.' " 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 ^October 12, 1882.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I'm frightened at the turn the affair has taken 
 that you tell me of this morning, principally lest you 
 should be disappointed at my hanging fire in a matter 
 that you had in any way at heart — I hope you have 
 not very much in this case. Next, I've such a dread 
 of ' stepping out ' before the public, that this suggest- 
 tion of Tuer's of the letter, (to be facsimiled !) thrills 
 
better 
 
 341 
 
 me with horror! This feeling, I must suppose, is 
 morbid, but I can't help it. My idea was, in case you 
 carried out another book, to slip in a drawing ' sub 
 rosd,' and quite entre nous, and without any thought 
 of glorification; and don't you think this would be 
 better after all, in your next book — ' Illustrations 
 by J. C, assisted by J. C. Junior, Guthrie, C. K., 
 etc. etc' ? or, better still, ' by friends,' with only 
 the initials to the drawings to show whose they were, 
 if that even should be necessary. I shall see Tuer 
 to-morrow, and if he mentions it to me I shall tell him 
 my scruples as forcibly as I can. This present book 
 is so entirely your own, that anybody else's work 
 would not mix well. I'm much obliged to you for the 
 Northumberland music ; it seems a very pretty book. 
 I suppose I must apply to the 'Secretary of the 
 Society of Antiquaries, The Castle, Newcastle-on- 
 Tyne,' to send me two copies, for which I will send 
 a P.O. order by return. The price is not mentioned 
 in the book. I want the copies to give away. One 
 to my friend old Fitzgerald, who will be interested in 
 the songs. Some of them are very pretty. He tells 
 me he has schemed out the plot of an English opera 
 from Scott's * Pirate.' 
 
 " I return Tuer's letter in case you may want it. I 
 shall be glad to hear you take a lenient view of my 
 scruples about the drawing, 
 " And am, 
 
 "Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 1883— 1886. 
 
 Artistic approbation. — Bewick. — Haydon. — Whistler. — Menzel. 
 — Verestschagen. — Fantin. — Millais. — Letter, April 13, 1883. — 
 Letter, July 14, 1883. — Letter, October 6, 1883. — Keene and his 
 editors. — A "Punch" picture rejected. — Golf. — Mr. Harral. — 
 First symptoms of illness. — Charge of penuriousness. — His gene- 
 rosity. — The Southwold ferryman. — Mr. G. H. Haydon. — Fru- 
 gality. — " Robert." — Letter, August 2, 1884. — Letter, February 20, 
 1886. — Letter, February 27, 1886. — Letter, April 4, 1886. — Letter, 
 April 9, 1886. — Letter, April 25, 1886. — Keene and the Royal 
 Academy. — Mrs. Langtry.— At the R.A. dinner. — " Mr. Punch " 
 has to explain a joke. — Mr. John Clayton and the 'bus conductor. — 
 " What's the good o' the W ? " — Too good a joke for the public. 
 — "Philological." — "To Everybody." — "Punch" offers a prize. 
 — Keene explains to Mr, Tuer. — Mr. Tuer suggests an amendment. 
 — " Punch " brazens it out. 
 
 S has been pointed out above, Keene 
 deprecated the discussion of his own 
 artistic performances, and cared not 
 much to discuss the work of others. 
 We find him, however, from time to time expressing 
 the heartiest and most generous appreciation of, and 
 admiration for, certain of his contemporaries, as well 
 as for some few of dead and gone generations. We 
 have seen how justly he valued Chodowiecki. For 
 
appreciations 
 
 343 
 
 Holbein and Hogarth too, as from the quality of his 
 work we should naturally expect, we find him evincing 
 an enthusiastic approbation ; and Bewick he not only 
 acknowledged as the great master of wood-engraving, 
 but maintained that he was rather a great artist 
 " hampered by an ungrateful material." Of individual 
 pictures, he held " The Raising of Lazarus," by the 
 unfortunate Benjamin Robert Haydon, belonging to 
 the National Gallery, but now on loan at Plymouth, 
 to be of outstanding merit. 
 
 Of his contemporaries, whose worth he was not slow 
 to recognize and acknowledge, Whistler, in his heart 
 of hearts, he seems to have admired above all others, 
 with the exception perhaps of the great German, 
 Menzel, of whom we have already spoken. Writing 
 to Mr. Stewart on November 24, 1878, he says: 
 " Whistler's case against Ruskin comes off, I believe, 
 on Monday. He wants to ' subpoena ' me as a witness 
 as to whether he is (as Ruskin says) an impostor or 
 not. I told him I should be glad to record my 
 opinion, but begged him to do without me if he could. 
 They say it will most likely be settled on the point of 
 law, without going into evidence ; but, if the evidence 
 is adduced, it will be the greatest ' lark' that has been 
 known for a long time in the courts." Of his pastels 
 he writes on another (undated) occasion : " I've just 
 been to see Whistler's sketches in pastel ; they are 
 very beautiful ; tell B. F. to go and see them. They 
 are so pretty in colour, the etchings look ugly 
 beside them." Again, in May, 1884: "I went to 
 Whistler's private view the other day — exhibition 
 
344 
 
 Cljaclea l&ecne 
 
 of his late work — arrangement in flesh colour and 
 grey this time — small water-colours and oil sketches — 
 gems all." 
 
 Of Verestschagen we find him writing to Mr. 
 Crawhall, November 5, 1887 : " I've been to see this 
 Russian painter Verestschagen's pictures ; they are 
 very strong and dramatic, and nothing so very terrible 
 and shocking as they gush about. War is roughish 
 work ! — and he might have pictured it much worse. 
 His fancy subjects I don't care for, but his pictures 
 of what he saw in the field are very striking, and a 
 lot of portrait heads of ' Haythens and Turks' are 
 very good — strong, coarse sort of painting." And 
 again to Mr. Barnes : "If you come to town you 
 should go and see this Russian Verestschagen's 
 pictures — very powerful and dramatic ; and that's all 
 rubbish that the Art critics have been gushing about, 
 of their being- so terrible for their sensitive nerves. 
 There's one fine situation of the Czar and his staff on 
 the brow of a hill looking through their lorgnettes at 
 some battle raging below, he sitting on a camp-stool. 
 The artist told Sir F. Burton that he got into disgrace 
 with the staff for this picture. You can fancy this ; 
 the Philistine soldier likes to be figured ' in the van 
 of the fight ' ! ' in the deadly breach ' ! " 
 
 Of M. Fantin too, the great flower painter, he 
 wrote in October, 1864, to Mr. Edwards: "That 
 was, as you say, a splendid work of art of Fantin's I 
 saw in your dining-room. He ought to get goodly 
 ' largesse' for such things. I was wholly ' stunned ' 
 at it." And to Mr. Barnes : " I congratulate you on 
 
S>pmptomg 
 
 345 
 
 your new ' Fantin.' He'll be appreciated better 
 some day." 
 
 And last, but not least, of Sir John Millais he 
 wrote on March 20, 1886: "I went to see the 
 Millais Exhibition, a marvellous display, and he 
 deserves all his riches and honours." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 {.April 13, 1883.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I have not heard of you for a long time, and 
 hope you are in good case. I suppose you are hard 
 at work about something. I have not seen Tuer, so 
 hear no news about the book, or when it's coming 
 out. I ought to be very much in the ' dumps,' but, 
 curiously, I'm not; yet, four weeks ago, walking home, 
 I felt what I thought was ' heart-burn,' a pain in my 
 chest that made me roar again. I thought it was 
 indigestion, but I've had it ever since— that is, when 
 I've walked about 500 yards it begins. Otherwise 
 I'm quite well ; but I doubt my boiler is getting 
 faulty, and that my walking days are over. A great 
 bore for me ! My doctor is out of town, so I've not 
 had my doubt resolved yet, but I'm going to see 
 him to-night ; but I can't complain or feel surprised, 
 as I've had good health all my life. I thought you'd 
 be pleased with that Catch. With you, I knew it 
 again when I fell in with it, but I can't remember 
 where I've seen it quoted. Here is the Academy 
 
346 
 
 Cljacleg I&eene 
 
 come round again. The only pictures I've seen are 
 Marks', Colin Hunter's, and Seymour Lucas's, but I 
 hear of wonderful works. I've had a letter (very 
 flattering) from old Menzel, of Berlin. He sent me 
 a lot of proofs and impressions of his designs for 
 wood, photos of his pictures and drawings, and half- 
 a-dozen sketches from his hand. I should like you 
 to see them. You will have seen how indebted I've 
 been to the Albums lately. That one of the Scotch 
 wife who wanted the calomel for the puir fatherless 
 bairn, I had done myself before in ' Punch ' ! but did 
 not recollect it, and only heard of it in a letter from 
 a settler in South Australia, who sent me the cut 
 No. i. In the former case it was an Irishman. 
 
 "Saturday, i^th.-— I've seen my doctor, and he 
 seems to think my ailment is only dyspepsia — at 
 least he's scouring me out as much as he can. He 
 stethoscoped me and tapped me all over. If it is 
 indigestion and liver, as he says, I shall be very 
 much surprised, as until I took these 'purgers' I 
 felt very well. I fancy I begin to walk a little 
 better. I've heard you complain of 'liver,' so now 
 we're in the same boat. I ought to have been 
 down in Surrey last night to hear the nightingales 
 come. Birket Foster has gone to Spain, Tangier, 
 etc., for six weeks. My friend Macdonald, of Aber- 
 deen, has been invited again to the R.A. dinner, 
 and I expect will come all the way on purpose — 
 more than I would ! I hope Joe has sent to the 
 Academy, though there's rather a terrible trio of 
 hangers this year. 
 
347 
 
 "With kind regards to Mrs. Crawhall and all 
 yours, 
 
 " I am, ever yours, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Alexander Macdonald^ Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [July 14, 1883.] 
 
 " Dear Macdonald, 
 
 " Bear with me when I tell you I don't think I 
 can get to Aberdeen next week ; I'm very sorry ; I 
 have an intense wish to come, but I should have 
 to go to the ' Punch ' people and say, for the first 
 time (nearly thirty years) since I've worked for them, 
 that C. K. ' gives out ' ! and that, for the next week's, 
 say, his ' tale ' will not be forthcoming. I don't like 
 ' breaking the spell,' but I know I want a holiday, 
 and now cannot get a real one whilst I have two 
 subjects a week, and am thinking of submitting some 
 arrangement to the prop 5 , that I should only do one. 
 This might enable me to get ahead, and so have a 
 chance of some relaxation. 
 
 " There are other reasons too. I should certainly 
 like to be a little better when I get away ; but I'm 
 getting better, can breast a hill better ; never smoke 
 till the evening ; but it's rather a bore getting old 
 and obliged to be careful. 
 
 "Thank Mrs. Macdonald for her capital story. 
 " Yours ever,, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
348 
 
 Cljarleg l&eene 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Oct. 6, 1883.] 
 
 "Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I have been a terribly bad correspondent lately ; 
 two or three letters in your debt, I fancy. I hope 
 you are the better for your trip to town. My liver 
 is improving, but now I'm somewhat ' foundered ' in 
 my feet — rheumatism in my heel, or else it comes of 
 dropping off busses ; but I'm groggy on my pins — 
 'lame as a kitten,' as I heard a bus-driver express it, 
 though why ' a kitten ' I can't guess. I'm looking out 
 eagerly for the Chap-books, but I have not seen Tuer 
 for six months, and shall try to hobble over to him 
 to-morrow. I shall be a good customer. I must send 
 'Blue Cap' to lots of Scots. I'm much obliged for 
 the last budget, all of which I shall do ; but I fancy 
 the one of the Rector and Curate the Editor has 
 heard, which is fatal. And that was rather a good 
 story of the Two Country Doctors ! Macdonald of 
 Aberdeen sent me that. There's one song in the 
 Roxburgh book is a great favourite of mine — 
 ' Ragged and torn and true,' which ought to go in 
 that book of ballads ('Poesies'). At the time when 
 you saw only one subject of mine in ' Punch ' I was 
 trying to get a few days in the country. I had a 
 week at Birket Foster's, and another week on the 
 Suffolk coast — Felixstowe, where I stayed with some 
 friends. About a mile and a quarter from here — a 
 village called Bawdsey — there's a ' Links ' of about 
 
(Bolt 
 
 349 
 
 two miles, and a golf club has been established by 
 a sort of Scots, and young and old are at it from 
 morn till eve. I was bitten, and am proposed for 
 a member; its rather difficult. I don't think I've 
 ever had a good fair hit of the ball yet, — have either 
 missed it, or else cut out a great cake of turf, or 
 only shaved it, and so sent it skimming close to the 
 ground ; but if you get a fair hit away it goes, a 300 
 yards, very satisfactory. The club premises as yet 
 are in a Martello tower ; walls about twelve feet 
 thick ; a beautiful picturesque interior. How I should 
 like to live in one ! Another week I had previously 
 at Hedingham in Essex, and that's all I've had this 
 year. I intend after next year only to do one 
 drawing a week in ' Punch,' so as to get more leisure 
 and recreation, if they'll agree. As a friend said to 
 me the other day, ' You haven't got two lives ' ! I'm 
 so pleased at the hope you give me of seeing you in 
 London at the end of the year. My friend Haydon, 
 the Devonshire angler, was transported when I told 
 him, and that perhaps you would dine with me at 
 the Arts Club, and ask him to meet you. He is 
 a great admirer of yours, and has all your works he 
 can get. He has a cottage down in Hampshire on a 
 trout stream. I have not been able to go there yet. 
 You should bring the Missus with you when you 
 
 come to London, and B , and give them a run 
 
 through the theatres, though I can't say much for the 
 drama at present. The Fisheries Exhibition is one 
 of the best day's amusements I ever saw ; I've been 
 several times. There was lots would interest you. 
 
350 
 
 Charles Beerte 
 
 I was afraid we should not get that portrait by Good 
 here. Of course the Newcastlers would like to keep 
 it, but I should like it in the National Gallery — it's 
 such a good specimen of portrait-painting. I hope 
 you got ultimately the box of tools, etc., that the Old 
 Ladies gave you, and then wanted back again. 
 
 " It's too bad of me to keep your Albums so long, 
 but may I keep them till the present Almanack is 
 
 done ? I hope H F has got a good wife. 
 
 I heard of him when I was at Witley. There's 
 another Benedict in the family just now. His 
 uncle, John Foster (about 70!), is marrying again! 
 I hope your young couples are flourishing and happy, 
 and that Hugh is doing well in the Far West. 
 
 " Another instance I've just thought of, of the 
 exquisite delicacy of our Editor. F. Faed wrote 
 me he had met an American angler in Scotland, of 
 whom he inquired one day what sport he had had. 
 His answer was, ' Guess, sir, I've been bumming 
 around all day with a twenty-five dollar pole, slinging 
 fourteen-cent bugs at the end of it, and haven't 
 caught a darned fish.' The only humour and 
 reason for the cut was the peculiar Yankee phrase- 
 ology, and you recollect how he improved it ! With 
 kindest regards to Mrs. Crawhall, 
 
 " I am, yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 It must, I think, be admitted that Keene was 
 somewhat hard upon his editors in this and other 
 instances. Where his legends, the main humour of 
 
A REJECTED CONTRIBUTION TO " PUNCH." 
 
(EMtortf 
 
 35i 
 
 which depended upon the local dialect, were cut 
 about and edited so as to make nonsense, he had 
 reasonable cause for complaint ; but, when the ques- 
 tion was as to the advisability of inserting a subject 
 which might offend the susceptibilities of readers, he 
 surely should have recognized that an editor must 
 bow to what at all events he believes to be public 
 opinion. It was not fair to put down to personal 
 squeamishness what was prompted by the regard 
 which the conductor of a widely-read journal is 
 bound to have for the prejudices, and may be narrow- 
 nesses, of the public for whom he caters. For example, 
 there was the picture of a Disconsolate (?) Widow, 
 who says to her friend, " But why should I grieve ? 
 I know where he spends his nights now"; which 
 subject the editor thought, probably, not acceptable 
 to the readers of " Punch." Of this, Keene wrote to 
 Mr. Crawhall : " I send you a sketch I made for one 
 of your subjects, but our Philistine Editor would 
 not have it; said it would 'jar upon feelings' !" But 
 I, for one, am inclined to think that "our Philis- 
 tine Editor" was about right here. Many, in fact I 
 think the majority of people, would be inclined to 
 think him not over scrupulous in objecting to the 
 sentiment contained in the legend. The picture is 
 good, and it must have been difficult to have brought 
 himself to its rejection. By Mr. Crawhall's kind per- 
 mission it is here reproduced-. 
 
 The last letter quoted makes mention of Keene's 
 becoming a member of the Felixstowe Golf Club. 
 At this most exasperating and yet fascinating game 
 
352 
 
 Cljatles Ikeene 
 
 he would seem never to have attained proficiency. 
 Indeed, how could he hope to who has not been 
 born with a " clique " in his hand ? It is almost an 
 insult to the royal and ancient game to take it up 
 " in the sere and yellow leaf." 
 
 Of Keene and this pastime Mr. Harral writes : 
 " C. K. was not a golfer, although he was a member 
 of a golf club, and was delighted when he could get 
 away from town to run down to the beautiful links at 
 Felixstowe, where he would amuse himself the whole 
 morning practising the game, laughing quietly at his 
 failures, and most conscientiously keeping his score, 
 the inside of an oyster-shell serving him as a note- 
 book. During the game his sketch-book would 
 frequently be produced, and some figure or bit of 
 landscape be jotted down, the little Dutch-looking 
 village of Bawdsey Ferry having great attraction for 
 him. C. K. never used ' the great big D,' proof 
 positive that he was no golfer." 
 
 As will have been discovered from the last few 
 letters, Keene was now beginning for the first time 
 in his life to suffer from the dyspeptic symptoms 
 which were finally to culminate in the acute suffer- 
 ings which he endured throughout the last two years 
 of his life. 
 
 In 1884 he writes: " I'm pegging away, but I 
 find myself a ' barren rascal ' with only one subject 
 a week to do, and wonder how it was that formerly 
 I could accomplish two ! " The fact was, that his 
 liver was beginning to punish him for over-smoking, 
 the only habit approaching a vice which this cheva- 
 
(Kenerogttp 
 
 353 
 
 Her sans reproche ever seems to have contracted. 
 True, there are those who say that he was penurious, 
 but we must remember that man judgeth by the 
 outward appearance, and that Keene was not one 
 who carried his heart upon his sleeve. It is a fact 
 that when young and not overburdened with money 
 he had contracted habits of frugality, and, frugality 
 suiting him, he did not see why he should alter his 
 usages when he grew older. Change and fashion, for 
 fashion's sake, were in every way abhorrent to him, 
 and people jumped to the conclusion that, because 
 his clothes, for example, were always alike, they were 
 never new. As a matter of fact he was certainly 
 rather extravagant than otherwise in his sartorial 
 expenditure. This, however, is a small matter, and 
 alone would be but a poor answer to the charge of 
 miserliness ; but fortunately there is much more to 
 be said upon this head. Indeed, for anyone whose 
 nerves are not strong enough to encounter fierce 
 indignation and vehement contradiction, it were best 
 to refrain from the suggestion to certain persons, 
 who know of support ungrudgingly given through 
 many years, under the express stipulation to the 
 appointed almoner that the donor's share in the tran- 
 saction should be kept a profound secret. Keene was 
 not not what men would call a religious man, but it was 
 his only Christ-like quality not to let his right hand 
 know what his left hand did. He had an almost 
 morbid horror of being thanked, a quality hard for 
 a Pharisaic age to calculate upon. Of the facts hinted 
 at it does not behove more specific mention to be 
 
 A A 
 
354 
 
 made, but there is nothing to prevent a passing 
 reference to an old ferryman, well-known at South- 
 wold, who, when age and infirmity prevented a con- 
 tinuance of his occupation, was, by the generosity of 
 K eene and other friends, enabled to retain his home 
 and live in comfort for the remaining years of life. 
 
 At Keene's death people seemed to be quite 
 horrified that a mere artist, a man who had spent 
 not only his best, but all his years in the service of 
 the public, should have amassed a fortune of some 
 thirty or forty thousand pounds. Trade plutocrats, 
 merchant princes, placemen, held their hands up 
 aghast that mere black and white art should have 
 met with such a reward. They could hardly have 
 been more shocked if the shekels had come through 
 black magic. At best it could but have been through 
 miserliness that such a sum was amassed. But it 
 surely is not such a very sordid thing to secure a 
 certain thousand pounds a year against a rainy day, 
 nor is it altogether an ignoble ambition to benefit 
 those near and dear after one's death. 
 
 But enough has been said to silence the spite- 
 fulness which would attribute such a vice to one 
 of whom it was written by a personal friend : "A 
 truly good man has passed away. Those only 
 who have known him intimately can appreciate in 
 its full extent the sterling worth of one so modest 
 and unpresuming, of one whose soul contained but 
 pure and wholesome thoughts, and whose heart was 
 as true as refined gold." 1 
 
 1 From the " Pall Mall Gazette." 
 
Ifcoberr" 
 
 355 
 
 Mr. G. H. Haydon, too, wrote but a month or two 
 before his death, which followed quickly upon that 
 of his friend : " Not a very eventful life, I take it but 
 a charmingly unassuming, beautiful, and unselfish 
 one. 
 
 These opinions do not sound like the memorials 
 of a character distorted by the vice of niggardliness. 
 That Keene was careful is shown by the following 
 quotation from a letter to Mr. Crawhall in 1885 ; 
 but frugality was till now a virtue, and is surely not 
 synonymous with parsimony. It is of a Mr. Camp- 
 bell he writes. 
 
 "He made me feel rather old by asking me 
 seriously when I was going to ' retire ' ! I said I 
 had never thought of it ; that artists don't ' retire' ; 
 but I have found a strange fascination in the idea 
 ever since ! To work con amove at what you like, 
 no vulgar editors or critics to rile you, and to be 
 able to go here or there as you like, and when, 
 and no more hurry! On the other hand, though I 
 think I have been pretty lucky with my savings, 
 I'm afraid I've lost some lately." 
 
 This year saw the republication by Messrs. 
 Bradbury and Agnew, in book form, of " Robert ; 
 or Notes from the Diary of a City Waiter, with 
 Illustrations by. Charles Keene." 
 
 Who that has followed that genial dispenser of 
 the " Horse- pitallerty " of the " Washupful " Livery 
 Companies of the City of London through his 
 various experiences and adventures, will deny that 
 he has obtained a fitting apotheosis ? Here are 
 
357 
 
 shilling's-worths of which no lover of fun and good 
 pictures should fail to possess himself. 
 
 To A lexander Macdonald, Esq. 
 
 "239, Kings' Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [August 2, 1884.] 
 
 " Dear Macdonald, 
 
 "Here I am again at the old shop after my 
 pleasant holiday. I managed to get from Oban to 
 Newcastle without being left behind. I had a plea- 
 sant time with Stevenson at Ach-na-Cloich. His 
 castle is beautifully situated on a wooded promon- 
 tory jutting into Loch Etive. Just below it is a 
 small island, and there last Sunday lay the seal 
 all day basking on a boulder, and another bobbing 
 round with her cubs. 
 
 "Crawhall admired my Aberdeen flints, and gave 
 me some from a lot he had received from Oregon. 
 He said they mount them as jewels there. 
 
 " Take my love, you and the Mistress. Your 
 and her kindness will make my holiday a red-letter 
 record in my memory. 
 
 " Sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, Kings' Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Feb. 20, 1886.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I'm sorry you cannot give me a better account 
 
358 
 
 Cljacles Ikeene 
 
 of yourself, but the beastly winter will soon be over, 
 and I hope the spring warmth and a change will 
 cheer you up. You must not think too much of 
 those sketches. I give lots away to brother artists, 
 and I like friends to have them rather than strangers, 
 and I owe them to you more than anybody. With 
 respect to the book you sent me, the original ' Com- 
 pleatest Angling Booke,' I did not like to send it back 
 immediately, but you have forgotten that you have 
 given me a copy, and, as you have only two or three 
 left, you may want it for another friend, so I must 
 not be so selfish as to keep two copies of so scarce 
 and valuable a treasure. If you insist on my having 
 it, I tell you I shall present it to one of two friends 
 of mine, furious anglers, and who will duly value it ; 
 but I think you ought to have k as it's the last. I 
 went and smoked a pipe with Challoner the other 
 evening, and heard from Mrs. C. that you were 
 going to rusticate on some riverside. I hope you'll 
 be throwing a line again. I see a ' lot ' in a book 
 sale that's coming off—' Scrapbook containing many 
 curious old Newcastle Woodcuts,' etc. I shall 
 have a look at this I was very glad to hear from 
 Mrs. Challoner that Hugh was home and quite free 
 from his rheumatism. I should like to go to that 
 jolly warm place myself. I've got a frightful cold 
 just now, and find it very irksome to lose one's 
 voice, and to be unable to sound a note, being 
 accustomed to croon away at 17th cent, catches 
 as I walk to and from my den. I hear that Joe 
 is going to make a show at the Academy this 
 
Sciatica 
 
 359 
 
 year. Kindest regards to Mrs. and Miss Crawhall 
 and the boys. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Feb. 27, 1886.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 "Just a Sabbath 'good morning' — not much to 
 tell you. I suppose I've been boasting of my immu- 
 nity from colds, for I've just had a tearer, so hoarse 
 that I couldn't sound a note. This to me, who am 
 wont in my walking to be ever crooning over old 
 catches, etc., is very irksome ; and, getting over this, 
 I am left with a good touch of sciatica, and am as 
 lame as a tree in the first mile of my walk. In the 
 streets I can pull up and pretend to look in a shop 
 window, and so rest me, but to have to stop in a 
 road of villas in agony, till the twinge is better, is 
 embarrassing. After this torture, as I get warm, 
 the pain leaves me. I hope when the soft west 
 wind comes I shall be all right. It is very kind of 
 you to leave me the ' Booke of Angling,' but under- 
 stand, I only know two men who deserve it — that 
 they are ' booky,' and would appreciate such a rarity, 
 and they are staunch anglers. One is G. H. Haydon, 
 my Devonshire fisherman, who knows you, and has 
 all your books, or most, and Alfred Cooper, the 
 artist (son of old Abraham, R.A.), an equally ardent 
 
360 
 
 Ctjarleg Jkunt 
 
 disciple of old Isaac's, perhaps more so, for he is a 
 Londoner, and as great a master of the art of gud- 
 geoning or chubbing from early morn to dewy eve 
 in a Thames punt as in throwing a fly in a rippling 
 trout stream. I've a notion that Hay don has a copy ; 
 for you recollect you gave Montagu one ; now he 
 doesn't care for fishing or books, and is less a collec- 
 tor than any one I know, and he gave this copy to 
 my old friend Stewart, who was both, and at the 
 sale, after his death, I think Haydon secured it, in 
 which case I shall present it to Cooper — you ought 
 to know where this forty all are. 
 
 " I'm glad to hear Joe is going to assert himself at 
 the R.A. He ought to compete too in the show for 
 admission to the Water-colour Society, if he has 
 some drawings ready. 
 
 " I'm glad to hear Barnes is better, and I shall 
 write to him. 
 
 " I hope you'll be successful nosing about for flints 
 in your rusticating ' Halves ' ! With kindest regards 
 to Mrs. and Miss Crawhall and the boys, 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 Tg Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [April 4, 1886.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I hope you are better for your change to your 
 country quarters. The spring is waxing beautifully 
 
Collecting: 
 
 here. I hope to run down to Surrey to B. Foster's 
 about the 13th, and hear the coming of the night- 
 ingales. Many thanks for the arrow-heads. My 
 collection is getting quite considerable, and I'm 
 looking out for a cabinet. When Canon Greenwell 
 was here he told us of a good collection he had seen 
 at Hackney, and advised us (Haydon and I) to go 
 and see it. I wrote to the owner, a Mr. Greenhill, 
 a schoolmaster, and yesterday Haydon and I went. 
 As they say in Suffolk, I was ' wholly stammed ' ! I 
 should think hundreds of the most magnificent paleo- 
 lithic implements he had found himself (!) in the 
 river gravels of Hackney and Clapton, with teeth 
 and bones of elephant, mammoth, rhinoceros, bos- 
 primigenus, lion, hyaena, etc. ; of neolithic flints, not 
 many ; and no arrow-heads approaching mine — all 
 found within two miles of his house, and some thirty 
 feet below the surface. To see his drawings of the 
 sections and deposits in which they were found, you 
 are staggered at the immense period since they were 
 deposited ! He has found one large implement 
 scored with parallel scratches from travelling in a 
 glacier ! They are digging for gravel in his locality, 
 as a good deal of building is going on, and they go 
 deep down, and here was his opportunity. I fancy 
 he must have been helped by his scholars. He's a 
 young man, and very intelligent and zealous ; an 
 angler too, so he and Haydon got on well. As I 
 told you I should, I have transferred that copy of 
 the ' Compleatest Angling Booke ' you lately sent 
 me (as you had already given me one, and I could 
 
362 
 
 Cljacleg %zznz 
 
 not selfishly hold two) to my friend Haydon, a 
 master fisher, and a great admirer of yours. He 
 has all your books he could get, and is a subscriber 
 to the great second edition of the above C. A. B. 
 So I think you will consider him a worthy possessor, 
 and he will value it very much. I've inserted a 
 memorandum to this effect. God save you 
 " From yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawkall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [April 9, 1886.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I post this on Saturday (to-day). Do you get 
 it on Sunday morning at Plessy, or, for this, must I 
 post it earlier ? 
 
 " I am going to-day, having had a card from Canon 
 Greenwell's friend, Franks, to the private view of the 
 Oriental and Ethnographical collections (I suppose 
 newly arranged) at the British Museum. I'm afraid 
 this does not include the flints and prehistoricals ; 
 that is under arrangement too. I'm very hot on 
 paleolithic specimens just now, from having seen 
 Greenhill's collection the other day— hundreds that he 
 found himself "in the gravels at Hackney and Clapton, 
 sometimes thirty feet deep ! But I should be glad 
 to have some from your friend, if he is reasonable. 
 I heard the great Dr. Liszt play the other night ; a 
 great gathering at the Grosvenor to welcome him ; 
 
3 6 3 
 
 very shaky on his pins apparently, but when he puts 
 them under a piano he's ' all there ' with his hands ! 
 I'm not 'carried away' with his composition; not 
 musically educated up to that altitude — Wagnerish ! 
 The weather here is promising for spring greenery : — 
 swishing showers, then sun and plenty of wind to give 
 exercise to the trees. I shall be going down to Witley 
 later on in the month to hear the nightingales. 
 
 " Here's a pretty go in the ' Council of the Nation '! 
 Do you read the Debates ? How long will they bear 
 with that snivelling old dotard W. E. G. ? 
 
 " Kindest regards to all yours. 
 
 " Ever yours, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 "112, Hammersmith Road. 
 
 " Sunday, April 25 [1886]. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 "Just as I was sitting down to write yesterday 
 comes in a loafing visitor, and it was all up! He sat 
 till post time ! I'm sorry to hear you don't get your 
 letters on Sundays ; I always looked on that as one of 
 the pleasures of the country. If your Farm domicile 
 is pretty cheap, I should think twice before I gave up 
 the town. They are both pleasant in their way, and 
 the great thing is to evade ' the Doldrums.' 
 
 " I feel very restless in this beautiful spring weather, 
 and hope to run down to Witley for a few days next 
 month, but there's so much going on that it's difficult 
 to 'clear out.' I'm going to the R'.A. Dinner next 
 week, and shall go early in the afternoon and see the 
 
364 
 
 Cljarleg liecne 
 
 pictures quietly before the feast. I fancy it will be 
 very Portraity this year. I've lately made the 
 acquaintance of a veteran Archaeologist, and a 
 learned— a friend of Greenwell's. The first thing- he 
 did was to detect a forgery among my arrow-heads. 
 The other day I went to see a fine collection of flints 
 at Clapton — I think I told you ; put several of my 
 choicest gems in my pocket, and now I miss one ! I 
 fancy I must have lost it in the journey, so I've had 
 a sorrow on my mind ever since. The Canon's 
 friend's name is Seidler, and he had a fine collection 
 when he lived at Nantes, in Brittany, but sold it, and 
 does not collect now — looks out for Greenwell. He 
 tells me the latter has had a loss lately of some of his 
 treasures. Did you hear of it ? One was an auto- 
 graph letter of Richard the Third! — I shall look out for 
 Joe's drawings ; I did not know he favoured water- 
 colours. I had packed up a sketch for your gallery, 
 but will post that to-morrow, as I shall send this to- 
 day to save time — one of your subjects, I call it 
 ' Memories.' Barnes sent me some superb proofs of 
 Bewick the other day, and two or three little drawings, 
 so I sent him a few scraps for his album. He seems 
 to be all right again. Kindest regards to all at the 
 Farm, from 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 Much nonsense was talked in the papers at the 
 time of Keene's death as to his never having set foot 
 inside Burlington House, and this not only by mere 
 
»>orietp 
 
 365 
 
 hunters after copy, but by those who professed to be 
 writing personal reminiscences. 
 
 One, indeed, whose remarks were otherwise fairly 
 correct, would seem to have adopted the common 
 error for the purpose of hammering in certain 
 misleading statements as to his joining with little 
 alacrity in social and public gatherings of all kinds. 
 
 As has been pointed out above, Keene was far 
 from being- an unsociable man or a recluse. What 
 he did abhor was the merely formal gathering of 
 fashionables, where intercourse is bad form unless 
 confined to the interchange of platitudes and scandal. 
 Keene was in no sense a Count Smorltork, and 
 promptly retired into his shell when conversation 
 bordered on insipidity. H e looked upon conversation 
 as a medium for the interchange of new ideas, not for 
 a parrot-like repetition of old ones. And he could talk 
 to good purpose too, when interested in his subject. 
 
 Meeting Mrs. Langtry at Sir John Millais' one 
 day, for example, he was the first to suggest, in con- 
 versation with her, that she should go on the stage, 
 and (I quote Mrs. Langtry's own words) "encouraged 
 me to hope that I should have a success in the pro- 
 fession I have since chosen." 
 
 But to return to the misunderstanding about the 
 Royal Academy. On July 23, 1869, he had written : 
 " I went to the Academy Exhibition, and I don't know 
 whether I've got more critical, or that the pictures 
 being hung in looser order was the reason, but I 
 seemed to feel strongly how bad a great many were, 
 especially among the R.A.s and great guns." 
 
3 66 
 
 On May 10, 1886, he writes that he has fulfilled 
 liis intention of going to the R.A. dinner on the 1st, 
 " and got there two hours earlier, and had a good 
 look round. Under the circumstances I rather liked 
 the show, tho' the critics pooh-pooh it. The speeches 
 were dull enough. Lord Rosehery's was the best, as 
 he had put a little humour into it, as when he said 
 he espied his old colleague (Joe Chamberlain) sitting 
 staring at him," etc. Again, during his last illness, 
 he wrote on April 20, 1890 : " I had an invitation to 
 the R.A. banquet, but shall not be able to go — a 
 great nuisance, as that is a red-letter festival of the 
 year, and I've always enjoyed those I've been to 
 from the many friends one meets, and the portentous 
 swells one sees, tho' the speeches are a bore." So 
 much for his alleged antipathy to the Royal 
 Academy. 
 
 We now come to a matter which, at the time of its 
 occurrence, caused a good deal of discussion. 
 
 The last quarter of 1886 was marked by what has 
 been called the " Philological " incident, the particu- 
 lars of which have to this day never been satisfac- 
 torily made clear to the public. 
 
 The whole civilized world rose up in arms one 
 morning, after opening its " Punch " for Novem- 
 ber 27, outraged, insulted, indignant, that a joke had 
 been served up to it the point of which it could not 
 for the life of it see. Letters of remonstrance, of 
 sarcasm, of entreaty, poured into the Fleet Street 
 Office. 
 
 Newspapers over all the civilized world wrote of 
 
" ^Etiological " 367 
 
 it with a solemnity and earnestness which would have 
 befitted a political crisis, and opened their columns 
 to its public discussion. " Mr. Punch " found him- 
 self in the unenviable position of having to explain 
 one of his own jokes. On the whole it will, I think, 
 be allowed that he carried himself very well through 
 that trying ordeal. 
 
 It now becomes my duty, so far as in me lies, to 
 give a plain, unvarnished account of the whole 
 incident ; but, before doing so, I must acknowledge 
 the kindness of Mr. Andrew Tuer in placing at my 
 disposal a letter, dated December 10, 1886, in which 
 Keene gives his own account of the matter. 
 
 Some time in the early part of the year 1886 Mr. 
 John Clayton, the senior partner in the well-known 
 firm of Clayton and Bell, and an intimate friend of 
 Keene's, had taken his seat in an omnibus at Regent 
 Circus. The 'bus was bound for Westminster, but 
 the conductor, not content with the three syllables 
 which his duty required him to reiterate, shouted 
 from stentorian lungs, " Westmin-i-ster ! Westmini- 
 ster ! " Mr. Clayton bore with this for some time, 
 and then something whispered to him that he should 
 take a "rise" out of the bellowing Boeotian. 
 
 " My good man," he said, with a sly glance at his 
 fellow-passengers, " are you aware that you give 
 yourself quite unnecessary trouble in putting in 
 a fourth syllable ? You are not going to take us 
 to see a person, but a building ; not a clergyman, but 
 a church, Our destination is Westminster, not 
 Westmin-i-ster ! " 
 
368 
 
 Cfjaileo l^nnt 
 
 For a moment the conductor regarded Mr. Clay- 
 ton with a blank stare, and the passengers began to 
 titter. Then a gleam of intelligence seemed to pass 
 across his features, as though conviction was immi- 
 nent ; but this was only for a moment. Suddenly the 
 depressed look of impending penitence was changed 
 into an exultant look of approaching triumph, and, 
 turning upon his mentor — or perhaps Mr. Clayton 
 will forgive me for saying, his tormentor- — he said 
 deliberately, and looking him full in the face, " What's 
 the good o' the ' W then ? " 
 
 The daring irrelevancy of the question, and the 
 hopelessness of dealing with it on any recognized 
 principle of repartee, so confounded Mr. Clayton, 
 that he sank back absolutely nonplussed, amidst 
 the inextinguishable laughter of his fellow-travellers. 
 
 " Away y'go, Bill," cried the conductor, hopping 
 up on to his perch. He had gained a glorious 
 victory. 
 
 This story Mr. Clayton, making the most of his 
 own discomfiture, related to Keene at their next 
 meeting. The latter relished the incident amazingly, 
 and at once said he should use it for a " Punch " 
 picture. In vain Mr. Clayton tried to turn him 
 from his purpose, saying that he was convinced 
 that the average reader would see nothing in it. 
 But Keene was not to be hindered, and in due 
 course there appeared, on November 27, 1886, a 
 C. K. drawing, entitled " Philological," and sub- 
 scribed with the following legend : — 
 
 "Bus Conductor {shouting from the foot-board). 
 
"Pji'loloffical" 
 
 369 
 
 ' Wes'-min-i-ster ! Wes'-min-i-ster ! Wes'-min-i- 
 ster ! ' 
 
 " Accurate Passenger {though in a hurry, hed borne 
 it for ten minutes, when) : ' Look here, Conductor ! 
 Surely you must mean " Minster," which is a building 
 you understand — not a clergyman — a pastor of any 
 — ah — religious denomination. I imagine we are 
 going to the part of this ancient city famous for that 
 venerable edifice ' 
 
 "Conductor. 'Then wha's the good o' the "W" ?' " 
 
 The drawing was exquisitely suggestive of the 
 drollery of the incident, but it cannot be maintained 
 that the " story " was well handled in the " legend " ; 
 and since the only complaint that Keene, in the 
 letter which is given in extenso below, brought 
 against the editor was that he had " suppressed " a 
 somewhat unimportant tag, we are forced to saddle 
 the artist with the whole responsibility for this 
 miscarriage of humour. On November 24 1 the 
 " Globe " was one of the various papers which took 
 notice of the matter. " ' Mr. Punch ' is requested," it 
 said, "to explain C. K.'s joke, 'Wha's the good o' 
 the " W" ?' in this week's issue." 
 
 On December 4 the following paragraph appeared 
 in answer to the flood of correspondence and news- 
 paper comment alluded to : — 
 
 " To Everybody. 
 " In answer to the questions which have appeared 
 
 1 "Punch," as everyone knows, although dated Saturday, ap- 
 pears on Wednesday. 
 
 B B 
 
37° Cfjarles Jkmxt 
 
 in newspapers all over the world, and also to those 
 contained in letters from innumerable correspondents, 
 as to the meaning of a Pictorial Joke signed with 
 the well-known initials C. K., and entitled ' Philo- 
 logical,' which appeared on p. 254 of the number 
 for November 27, Mr. Punch, with every wish to 
 calm the public mind, which during the recent foes 
 has been so greatly exercised on this subject, has 
 great pleasure in announcing, urbi et orbi, that the 
 Artist will give a prize, the nature and value of 
 which will be fixed by the donor, and that Mr. Punch 
 himself will supplement this with an additional prize 
 of one copy of his Royal Jubilee Almanack of 1887, 
 to Anyone, Anywhere, who, having full possession 
 of his reason, and being in the perfect enjoyment of 
 his liberty, shall offer such a solution as shall be 
 within distinctly measurable distance of the exact 
 point of the original joke intended to be set forth 
 in the above-mentioned prize puzzle-picture. And 
 hereto we set our hand and seal, {signed) Puncf), 
 Dec. 4, 1886." 
 
 On December 6 Keene wrote in a letter answer- 
 ing one of Mr. Tuer's : — 
 
 "The Editor has chosen to make a fuss about 
 this subject of the Philologer. The joke is rather 
 profound, but it happened to a friend just as I told 
 it, and I saw points of humour in it which I will 
 explain when I see you ; it's difficult to do so in 
 writing." 
 
 This was followed on the 10th by this letter : — 
 
^Ijilologtcal" 
 
 37i 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 "Dec. 10, 1886, 
 
 " Midnight. 
 
 " Dear Tuer, 
 
 " Thanks for the cheque. I'll send the sketch 
 to-morrow to Notting Hill. The situation actually 
 occurred to my friend Clayton (Clayton and Bell, 
 the glass painters), just as I've drawn it. I'll try 
 and tell you how it seemed humorous to me. In 
 the first place, I thought it amusing that an old 
 gentleman should have such a passion for accuracy 
 that he should take the trouble to correct a 'bus 
 cad ' in his use of a redundant letter in a word, 
 though he knew what he meant ! — Then (though 
 there is still the mystery what the cad meant) I 
 saw a readiness and humour (of the same sort as 
 Charles II.'s in his poser to the Royal Society 
 about the vessel full of water and the fish) in the 
 man pretending that he understood the old gent to 
 be tackling him on the construction and analysis of 
 the word, and flinging this philological crux at him 
 and escaping. I had put a tag at the end of legend 
 ('hops on to his perch with "Away y'go Bill"'). 
 This the Editor, for some reason (another mystery !), 
 suppressed. I am interested in the disquisitions of 
 the Philologers (in my ignorant way — know nothing 
 about it) that I often read in ' Notes and Queries,' 
 etc. I saw the rejoinder in this light from the first, 
 and never reflected the Public might not — 'hence 
 these tears' and confusion. I hope your solution 
 
372 
 
 Cljarkss Jkunz 
 
 comes somewhere near it. I have not been so lucky 
 as to find any one of the same mind with me yet ! 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To which Mr. Tuer sent the following- reply : — 
 
 " 20, Notting Hill Square, W. 
 
 "15 Dec, 1886. 
 
 " Dear Keene, 
 
 " Yes, your explanation of the joke agrees with 
 mine, but unfortunately I at first delved deeper and 
 signally floundered. If headed 'A Non Sequitur 
 with a Vengeance ! ' or 'A Philological Non Se- 
 quitur? the point, which is really good, would, I 
 think, have been quite understood. 
 
 " V. truly yours, 
 
 "And. W. Tuer." 
 
 The incident was brought to a humorous con- 
 clusion by the following paragraph in " Punch " for 
 December 18. 
 
 " Philological. 
 " C. K. having left it to his revered Chief to decide 
 both as to the best solution of the puzzle-picture and 
 the nature of the prize to be awarded, we beg to 
 announce, on behalf of Mr. Punch, that the nearest 
 approach to a complete solution has been reached by 
 a Constant Subscriber, near Oxford, to whom the 
 Artist's prize, and a copy of Mr. Punch's Royal 
 Jubilee Almanack, have been posted. And for our- 
 selves, we add this, that never, till within these last 
 
373 
 
 ten days, had we fully appreciated the nature and 
 extent of the labour which must be undergone daily 
 and weekly by a thoroughly conscientious ' Puzzle- 
 Editor,' on any of our ' Society Papers.' No remu- 
 neration short of five thousand a year and a hand- 
 some annuity to his wife and children can possibly 
 make up to him for the wear and tear — a tremendous 
 lot of tearing — of such an occupation. Surely ' that 
 way madness lies.' And the taste for this sort of 
 thine is on the increase. All sorts and conditions 
 of men and women are for ever consulting about 
 Mights,' and words, and syllables, and the poor 
 Puzzle-Editors must be inundated by thousands of 
 letters, that is, if we judge by the flow of correspon- 
 dence that has been let loose upon us up to the date 
 when we closed the flood-gates and dammed the 
 stream. Henceforth, no more puzzles, or, at all 
 events, not on the same conditions. This has been 
 quite enough for once. By the way, as the publica- 
 tion of the solution would, in our opinion, only lead 
 to further discussion, which would be quite unprofit- 
 able, we keep it to ourselves, and only throw out 
 these hints — that the dialogue was actually over- 
 heard ; that the conductor only meant to chaff the old 
 gentleman by posing him with an utterly absurd and 
 pointless question, just as Charles the Second 
 posed the Royal Society ; 1 and that what sounds a 
 wonderfully good joke, when overheard at the mo- 
 
 1 Charles the Second's poser, if I remember right, was, " Why does 
 a bowl of water with fish in it weigh the same as a bowl full of 
 water without ? " 
 
374 
 
 Cfjarleg l&eene 
 
 ment, does not always improve by being kept. With 
 this sidelight thrown on the picture, there are already 
 many quick-witted persons on whom the humour 
 is dawning, and who are beginning to ' roar ' over 
 C. K.'s joke, and, on second thoughts, to consider it 
 as a regular side-splitter." — Punch, Dec. 18, 1886. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 1887 and 1888. 
 
 Mr. Tuer's note-paper.— Stipply appearance in "Punch" draw- 
 ings.— The "recorder" and penny whistle.— Royal Society of 
 British Artists.— Royal Society of Painters in Water-colours.— 
 "Leaves of Parnassus."— Letter, April 9, 1887.— Letter, June 11, 
 I 887.— Letter, July 1, 1887.— Letter, August 19, 1887.— Letter, 
 September 13, 1887.— Keeneno sportsman.— An amusing dilemma. 
 —Letter, September, 1887.— Letter, October 1, 1887.— Letter, 
 October 22, 1887.— " King James's Wedding, and other Rhymes." 
 —Against the Tory grain.— Letter, February 18, 1888.— Letter, 
 June 12, 1888.— Letter, June 14, 1888. 
 
 T the beginning of Chapter VII. men- 
 tion was made of a curious effect which 
 the system of photographing on to the 
 wood-block was to have upon some of 
 Keene's later "Punch" drawings. It 
 was in this way. 
 
 His friend, Mr. Tuer, had a liking for note-paper 
 of a peculiarly rough grain, which he had induced 
 an acquaintance to manufacture specially for his use. 
 Keene was much taken with it, and wrote in an 
 undated letter : — 
 
 " Dear Tuer, 
 
 "Where can I get that rough paper that you 
 
376 
 
 Cljarles I&eene 
 
 use? I'm doing a 'Punch' sketch on the back of 
 one of your letters, which I shall be flattered if you 
 will accept (I'll send it when it has been photo'd). 
 I like it (the paper!) very much. The surface 
 makes a ragged line. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 Those who have studied Keene's drawings closely 
 in " Punch " will have become aware that at times 
 there was a breaking up of the lines into infinitesimal 
 curves and dots, which gave a lithographic or stipply 
 appearance difficult to account for in work usually so 
 direct and clean. This was the result of working 
 upon the rough paper with which Mr. Tuer provided 
 him. The ragged lines, being photographed on to 
 the wood-block, came out a series of microscopical 
 curves and dots, and, being accurately reproduced by 
 the engraver, resulted in an effect which certainly 
 relieved, in a delightful way, the dull monotony of 
 the printer's ink. The labour of cutting must have 
 been immensely increased thereby. One trembles 
 to think of the language it must have evoked from 
 those who were called upon to do the work. For 
 examples of the effect produced, readers may refer to 
 " Surplusage," in " Punch " for Oct. 23, 1886 ; " The 
 News," April 9, 1887; and "The Fourth Estate," 
 March 2, 1889. But these are only a few out of 
 many. 
 
 The year 1887 found Keene as enthusiastic as 
 ever over music. As has been mentioned elsewhere, 
 
aaritistj aetata " 
 
 377 
 
 it was now that he took up the study of that obsolete 
 instrument of the flute tribe, the "recorder." Not 
 content with one novelty, however, we also find him 
 going in enthusiastically for one of a much more 
 modest character. On April 16 he writes to Mr. 
 Crawhall : "I'm very much wrapped up in a book 
 of Irish tunes just now. and mean to go in seriously 
 
 A HUNTER. 
 
 for the penny whistle — bought a tutor to-day. Some 
 of them are very beautiful, and I'll send you a speci- 
 men soon ; but they are often in a minor key, and of 
 more compass than I can get out of the practice- 
 stick." 
 
 This same year the Royal Society of British Artists 
 elected Keene an honorary member. 1 This fact 
 reminds me that the writer of the just and apprecia- 
 
 1 He resigned his membership on June 4, 1888. 
 
378 
 
 Cljacleg l&eette 
 
 tive leading article in the " Times " for January 6, 
 1 89 1 , was wrong in supposing that ' ' it never occurred 
 to his brethren in Art, who claim to lead the nation 
 professionally, to signify their admiration of him by 
 the bestowal of diplomas." As a matter of fact, 
 Keene never exhibited at the Royal Academy, and 
 consequently was not qualified for election ; but I am 
 assured that a suggestion was made to him, by a 
 person in very high authority, that he should do so, 
 and thus give the Royal Academy an opportunity of 
 officially recognizing his eminence as an artist. 
 
 Several years before this, too, it was proposed to 
 put him up for election to the Royal Society of 
 Painters in Water-colours, under the rule which 
 provides that " candidates are at liberty to stand their 
 ballot, resting on their known professional ability," 
 but he preferred being elected under the ordinary 
 law that obliges a candidate to offer for the inspection 
 of the members some, water-colour works. Unfortu- 
 nately he, from some cause or other, was not able to 
 carry out this design, and so the Society was deprived 
 of the honour of enrolling his name, much to the regret 
 of many of his old friends who were members. 
 
 This year (1887) we find him writing: "When I 
 was at Peterhead I met some people who gave me 
 some arrow-heads found in their grounds, and I sent 
 them some old sketches. They have been printing 
 a Jubilee book for the funds of their Episcopalian 
 Chapel, 1 and asked if they might reproduce them, to 
 which I assented, and they have sent me the book, 
 1 St. Peter's Episcopal Church, Peterhead. 
 
Collecting 
 
 379 
 
 < Leaves of Parnassus/ rather well got up— local 
 poetry and prose, with local wit, I suspect, but very 
 good. They have grouped my sketches in a page, 
 so they come very small — perhaps all the better." 
 
 To Joseph Craivhall, Esq. 
 
 " 112, Hammersmith Road. 
 
 [April 9, 1887.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I'm hugely obliged to you for the tip for the 
 musical instruments. The tambourine tempts me 
 very much, and I'll just sleep a few more nights on it. 
 I'm such an inveterate collector that I have to turn 
 over my whims very fully. The guitar even fetches 
 me, though I've got about half-a-dozen. To show you 
 how careful I am, I was at Sotheby's the other day 
 (nasty rainy morning, and nobody there). There 
 were a lot of Greek and Roman antiques went 
 at such prices as would have tempted a saint! e.g., 
 1 Four amphorae with red bands, and two others,' six 
 shillings ! Several lots like this. Bronzes : ' Two 
 Samian ware cups, three paterae, some with potter's 
 name.' I went up to nine shillings for this, it went 
 for ten ! There were some flints (that I was after), 
 but they went beyond their value — not to speak of 
 the old plate and the coins, the Chelsea and Dresden ! 
 It's lucky you don't live in London ! Harpsichords 
 are difficult to find in tolerable playing order, and I 
 don't think there is anybody who can repair them. 
 They are about the size of a very small piano, 
 generally with a stand, which is separate. A spinet 
 
38o 
 
 Cljarles Itene 
 
 the same ; this is smaller. I can't understand how 
 it is you've not heard from Hay don ; he must be 
 away or ill. I'll go and see him next week. I send 
 you a pen I've invented, my own manufacture, cal- 
 culated for a bold handwriting or drawing. This is 
 a duffer I've got now. Kindest regards to all in 
 Sydenham Terrace. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawkall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [June ii, 1887.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 "The Jubilee's 'fast dev-ay-lopin' into a bore,' 
 as old Carlyle said to a chattering friend. I've been 
 and am harried and chivied about by our Editor 
 over the coming number — till life's a burden ! I'm 
 glad you like the sketch, but the debt's on my side. 
 For instance, here's another quest I would ask you 
 to make for me. In the last 'Chronicle' there is a 
 paragraph, ' Miss Laura A. Smith continues her 
 articles on Sailors' Songs in the " Shipping World." 
 In this month's issue the Lieder of German sea- 
 faring men are dealt with.' Is this ' Shipping World ' 
 a local paper ? — weekly, or monthly, or both ? If so, 
 could you procure and send me a No., and for which 
 I insist on reimbursing you ? I want to hnd out if 
 there is a likelihood of these articles being- reissued 
 afterwards in a book, in the same way as those 
 
£>t. Cecilia ^oncrp 
 
 381 
 
 Northumberland tunes a year or so ago. If this 
 paper is published in London don't trouble, as I can 
 get it myself. I was at a concert last night of the 
 St. Cecilia Society, all women (band and chorus), 
 conducted by Malcolm Lawson. One piece was a 
 Jubilee cantata of his composing, words by his wife, 
 with a good deal about ' Erin ' in it. Here's a leaf 
 out of the programme. I don't know whether (see 
 song of the ' Women of Scotland') insisting on the 
 relationship of Victoria to ' our Stuart Mary ' was 
 happy, but certainly the part about Erin seemed to 
 damp the spirits of the audience. Whether its 
 thoughts reverted to certain murders and houghings 
 and the blackguardisms of Messrs. Healy, Cony- 
 beare, Tanner, and Co., or what, but the silence at 
 the end was ghastly ! As a friend used to say, ' you 
 could have heard an umbrella drop ' ! The ' Texts ' 
 are superb ! A new idea, to blazon your peccadilloes 
 on your walls ! I met a Miss Palmer the other day, 
 who seemed to know everybody in Newcastle, a 
 good contralto singer, but I had not the opportunity 
 then of talking to her. The other night I met at 
 dinner a very pleasant man, Brady, F.R.S., whose 
 Northern tongue I detected — comes from your town, 
 or Durham, I fancy — -had travelled much. I asked 
 my host what his particular branch of science was ; 
 said he thought ' Diatoms'! Good heavens! Got a 
 flint arrow-head this morning from Buchan. Happi- 
 ness for a week ! 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
, 3 82 
 
 Cljarleg I&eene 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 "July 1st [1887]. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I'm getting ready to run down to Birket 
 Foster's Monday or Tuesday, but shall return on 
 Saturday — sickening for fresh air ; ' off my feed.' 
 This preparation will make me busy to-morrow, 
 so jot down my chronicle to-night. I asked my 
 friend Hipkins, at Broadwood's, about that old 
 piano. He writes : ' I think, however, £5 is much 
 for that very old square piano (one of the first 
 made). £2 would be enough for it; it would cer- 
 tainly cost £5 to make it playable. Such pianos 
 are from time to time offered to Broadwood's, who 
 never buy them ; still they come, and I could very- 
 likely secure a sound one for you. Harpsichords 
 and spinets are becoming rare, and go at about £20 
 without repairs,' etc. So I think it will be safer 
 to trust to him to procure me one, instead of 
 thinking of this one of Bell's. If my friend Hipkins 
 ever goes to Newcastle I'm going to introduce him 
 to you. He's writing that book on Musical Instru- 
 ments you spoke of. They are beautifully done, 
 but the price staggers me. He tells me all the tall 
 copies are taken up. I'm glad you liked the Jubilee 
 sketch, but don't talk of ' debt ' — d'ye mind the 
 Albums ? — not exhausted yet ! I shall try and work 
 your story of the Secretary of Water Co. If this 
 drought goes on, what's to become of Sir Wilfrid 
 
%\yz £catiemp "^toacrp " 383 
 
 Lawson ? I have not seen Hay don for some time. 
 I can fancy how delighted he'd be with your text. 
 That's quite in his vein. You should do him a 
 piscatorial one for his cabin on the Hampshire 
 stream. I went to the Academy 'Swarry' last 
 night — the usual scrouge. These sort of meetings 
 fascinate me, from meeting people who come and 
 confabulate, and whom I don't know from Adam ! 
 having forgotten them, and it's a little game to keep 
 from committing yourself to that confession in the 
 parley! I'll try and think of some more texts for 
 you. I shall write to you from Witley next week. 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 " Tell Joe, Christie, the Paisley man, was asking 
 after him. He's been painting down in Norfolk. 
 
 " Saturday morning. — Just received the edition 
 de luxe, ' Jubilee Thought,' — beautiful. ' Debt,' 
 indeed ! The other day, at the pipe contest, I asked 
 a player what was the pibroch I had just heard him 
 play? ' McSomebody's Lament.' I asked then what 
 book it was in ? 'It's in nae book, it's mown ' (with 
 a sniff)." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Aug. 19, 1887.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I'm going to lunch with Abbey and Parsons 
 to-morrow, to meet a compatriot of the former, an 
 American Colonel, who, I suppose, is touring around. 
 
3§4 
 
 Cijarleo l&cene 
 
 That means a broken day, so I pen my budget 
 to-night. Many thanks for the last two Albums, 
 which I roared over, especially that sketch of the 
 two earth-worms. Is that your own idea? Do you 
 know that I have about a score of these Albums ? 
 I'm packing up about half of them, the earlier ones, 
 that I fancy I've exhausted, so expect the consign- 
 ment next week. Nothing is happening here, so 
 I've very little to say. Everybody is away. I'm 
 even alone at home. My sister is at the seaside, so 
 I've nothing to do but work for amusement. I've 
 had a brace of grouse from the beneficent Barnes, 
 and shall write to him on Sunday. I must find 
 some other derelict stranded in town to come and 
 sup some night. I hear from my friend in Suffolk 
 that the golf links are as dry and slippery as glass, 
 and that I'm to bring spikes in my shoes when 
 I come down to play. I may manage to do this in a 
 week or two, but I wish the year wasn't so old. 
 I feel much better, and have got my appetite for my 
 dinner back again, but, as I don't smoke before that 
 meal, half of it is for the weed, and makes it raging 
 strong ! I wish you'd try the restriction. Doctors 
 and physick are nowhere with it ! I saw poor old 
 
 M on Saturday. He's well, but gets very deaf. 
 
 I shall cheer him up with your story of the earth- 
 worms ! In vol. xx. of the Albums is a landscape 
 sketch of Bamburgh I think of begging of you. Do 
 you ever see the Munich ' Punch,' ' Der Fliegenden 
 Blatter '? (sic). 1 I've subscribed for current vol. 
 1 "Die Fliegende Blatter." 
 
BUMBLE. 
 
& 23rofcen 2D tip 
 
 385 
 
 I don't know the language, and they say the jokes 
 are poor, but some of the drawings are excellent. 
 I'll send you these up to look at if you like. Mind 
 you tell me when Mrs. Crawhall comes up to 
 London. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 {Sept. 3, 1887.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I was prevented writing last Saturday by 
 discovering, just as I got to my den, that I'd left a 
 parcel in the bus I travelled by. This sort of thing 
 riles me woundily. Couldn't rest without making an 
 effort to recover it, though it was not of much value — 
 some numbers of the Munich ' Punch ' and a ' Punch' 
 sketch. I started to the starting-place where I got in — 
 saw inspector — could not say I could spot the con- 
 ductor, as I had not taken notice. He said he'd make 
 inquiries. All this broke my day, and upset every- 
 thing. I've tried your subject you suggested (Scot 
 who kept the Sabbath, and everything else). What 
 do you say for a title ? though that is not essential. 
 None is better than a tame one. I've packed up a 
 consignment of exhausted Albums, about half. I shall 
 be a little easier after this. Don't send the one you 
 speak of till after my holiday. I expect to get oft 
 about the nth or 12th for a week or fortnight, but 
 
 c c 
 
386 
 
 Cljarleg l&eene 
 
 shall write as usual. I should like to have been with 
 you at the pipe gathering. I know the sort of thing 
 exactly. I'm doing a drawing — 
 
 Piscator (at the end of a bad day). "Donald, 
 hang the boat here a bit, we may get a rise/' 
 
 Donald (breaking down). "I will tamm the 
 boat, if you will ! — and the trouts — and the loch 
 too-o ! " ' 
 
 I went yesterday with my antiquary friend 
 (Seidler, a chum of Canon G.) to see a collection at 
 Wandsworth (of flints), made by a young fellow 
 there (a pawnbroker), mostly from the Thames, a 
 favourable locality and business, to get a connection 
 among the ballast dredgers and longshore men who 
 find them. The quantity of flints and bronze stored 
 up in the mud is incredible. He corresponds with 
 Canon G., and gives him a chance of the best finds. 
 He has a fine collection. He gave me a few. More 
 next week. Ravenous for my dinner and the (first) 
 pipe after. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 Keene was no sportsman, and as the shooting 
 season came round, year by year, he was almost 
 invariably hard up for subjects. He had, however, a 
 strong sympathy and understanding, and once a joke, 
 sporting or otherwise, was made clear, no one could 
 surpass him in bringing out its point. 
 
 The two following letters show him in an amusing 
 dilemma on this score. 
 
sporting Pictured 
 
 387 
 
 To Alfred Cooper, Esq. 
 
 " 239 King's Road, 
 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 *' Dear Alfred, 
 
 " Do you remember a subject you gave me once 
 
 of a 
 
 " 'Visitor [having shot a hare at the usual seventy 
 yards). " Long shot that, Johnson." 
 
 " ' Keeper. " Yes, sir ; Master remarked as it were 
 a wery long shot." 
 
 " ' Visitor [gratified) " Ah — Oh he noticed it, did 
 he." 
 
 " 'Keeper. "Yes, sir, Master always take notice. 
 When gen'lemen makes wery long shots they don't 
 get asked again ! " ' 
 
 "Why would 'Master' object to this long shot? 
 Burnand doesn't know anything about sporting, 
 and he's sure to want to know. I don't know either ! 
 Will you kindly explain, so that I can answer him as 
 if I were an expert. How are you all ! I've been in 
 the dumps a long time. Dentist pulled all my teeth 
 out. I've 'got 'em on ' at last. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Alfred Cooper, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 *' Dear Alfred, 
 
 " Do you think this would do instead of the 
 hare — 'Visitor (who had let fly "into the Brown," 
 
3^8 
 
 Cljarlc<5 l&eene 
 
 at eighty yards, and brought down a brace) ! ' ? but 
 if you and Francis (who sent me the suggestion) 
 think the hare best, I'll stick to it. This question 
 arose in talking to a shooting man at the Club last 
 night, who explained the sporting point to me. I'm 
 so sorry to give you the trouble, but if I make a 
 decent sketch I'll send it you for your scrap-book. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 " 112, Hammersmith Road, 
 
 "Sept. [1887]. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " You are evidently having a lively time of it 
 with ' Cherubim and Seraphim,' etc. I'm in very 
 quiet circumstances. My sister away, I have the 
 house all to myself ; town quite empty. I had some 
 trouble to hunt up a couple of friends to come and 
 sup on Barnes' grouse the other night. I'm hard at 
 work trying to get a week or two ahead, but the 
 Shooting Season is always difficult — everything has 
 been done. I have just culled one from the Albums. 
 I've been delighted with two new (to me) tunes in 
 the ' Beuk ' — ' The Manchester Angel ' and ' The 
 Water of Tyne.' I don't remember spotting them 
 in the Antiquary's ' North d . Minstrelsy,' but may 
 have passed them over. ' The Water of Tyne,' is 
 charming, and is constantly in my throat. By-the- 
 by, I suppose that map of Newcastle is a process 
 block, or did you engrave it ? I'm seriously thinking 
 
Italian Ciljtlutton 
 
 389 
 
 of going in for photography. The only thing that 
 stops me is the difficulty of contriving a dark closet 
 to develop in at home. My idea is, to work with a 
 small detective camera, and to enlarge from these small 
 negatives. I've seen some beautiful things lately in 
 this way. I've one or two friends first-rate workmen 
 at it. It is so easy now, compared with the old collo- 
 dion process that I used to slave at. W. Richmond 
 and I went on Monday to the Italian Exhibition; a 
 great lot of pictures, mostly bad ; but there is one 
 Segantine (I think), whose work quite knocked me 
 over ! rather an impressionist, but very original. Rich- 
 mond was equally struck. Ask Joe if he has heard of 
 him, as it struck me that, from the quality of his work, 
 he would admire him very much. An Italian told me 
 last night that he had an enthusiastic following, but 
 that some people raved against him. I can easily 
 understand that. The show otherwise was amusing. 
 The Italians seem to be very strong in furniture, but 
 over-carved — the chairs make you shudder ! There's 
 the Coliseum, and gladiators, and chariot-racing, and 
 the Emperor Titus — very imposing person — and the 
 Amazons ! The foot-racing of the last is screaming ! 
 
 " My friend S s' book of Poems is a-printing. 
 
 I shall send you a copy — -I'm going to have a few. 
 He's a strange fellow. He has just anchored himself 
 for life on the edge of a lonely voe in Shetland. 
 These are tracings of the sketches he sent me of the 
 'Residence.' He says his parlour will be 12 ft. 
 square, and his bedroom 8 ft. by 6 ft. I think this 
 is a great mistake for one of his temper to make ; of 
 
390 
 
 Cljarlea l&eene 
 
 course I don't tell him so. I think, if a man goes 
 in for seclusion from the world, he should be able to 
 change about. Fancy the long winter there ! I send 
 him a book now and then. 
 
 " I don't know the book you mention, 'Characters 
 of Theophrastes,' but I should think not an easy task 
 for leisure ! Your suggestion of the Socialist at the 
 R.A. will come in well next year at Exhibition time, 
 if we reach it. You recollect my writing to you of 
 some pretty china I had seen at a pawnbroker's near 
 me. I have since thought they were modern, and an 
 expert I met this morning, who saw them, says they 
 are so. There are some small Chelsea (?) figures, 
 very like those you said you rose at the other day ; 
 but, as you say, they are very pretty whenever they 
 were done. I'm looking in on Montagu to-day, and 
 will let you know what he says to the book when I 
 write next. Time's up. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 {Oct. 1, 1887.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 The Album came all right, and I shall tackle it 
 instanter. I'm still a little ahead, which I find a 
 pleasant state of things, and enables me to take an 
 odd day for diversion, a bit of disused holiday in fact. 
 I found my sojourn at the sea-side was taken too 
 
391 
 
 late in the year ; the air was too fresh to lounge 
 about and sketch. I was a bad hand at golf, so I did 
 not like to spoil my friend's play by entering the 
 lists with him, so was reduced to long walks to warm 
 myself. We projected a ramble up the coast, pored 
 over the ordnance maps and planned our routes, but 
 somehow it did not come off. The hotel was large 
 and full of people, some leaving every day and 
 others coming, some for golf, others, families for 
 their summer outing. We dropped into the salle-a- 
 manger about 8.30 to breakfast; the grub good and 
 various enough, but differing from my regular home 
 selection, so I did not make such a gorge of it as my 
 friends, who were not such Conservatives as I am. 
 Their appetites, and what they put away, astonished 
 me. For the last two months at home I've resisted 
 tobacco till the evening, and have been all the better 
 for it ; but here, where my friends directly after 
 breakfast began twizzling up cigarettes, I broke 
 down, and went at my pipe ! to the detriment of my 
 liver. Then we lounged off to the links, about a mile 
 and half off, and watched the play, or else ' took a 
 walk,' which I hate (I like to be distinctly going 
 somewhere, and then I like it). We mostly lounged 
 back to lunch — not one of my meals, especially after 
 tobacco. P.M. — Another walk, or perhaps a game 
 at bowls (better), and shilly-shallying till dinner, 7.30. 
 By this time I was pretty peckish ; lots of people ; no 
 dress luckily, and we prattled of how we had got 
 through the day ! After dinner I and my friends 
 retired to the smoking-room, and puffed and played 
 
392 
 
 Cljarles Ikzzm 
 
 dominoes till bed-time. I did not bathe— too cold. 
 One day we went to Ipswich, twelve miles off; hunted 
 for curio shops — I found those I knew of gone ; 
 strolled through the Museum— a good lot of flints. 
 The curator, whom I knew, has promised me some. 
 I used up another day going there and looking up 
 my few relations left there. At last I bolted, and so 
 ended my holiday ; and here I am in the old groove, 
 and no 'bacco till after dinner, so I've got my appetite 
 again. Since I've been back, prowling about the 
 book-stalls and print-shops, I picked up a couple of 
 old engravings I've been long looking after— De 
 Loutherbourgh's ' Battle of Camperdown' and ' Howe's 
 Victory.' The latter is brown, and I think of sending 
 it to Waters to restore. I'm still in quest of another 
 by the same master, a favourite of mine, ' The Battle 
 of the Nile,' his best. I had a prowl round the 
 dealers on Wednesday with Seidler, a paleolithic 
 friend of Canon Green well's. At Bryce Wright's in 
 Regent Street I bought a great Pressigny Core, a 
 well-known type, and a long flake (to carry in my 
 pocket, useful even in these latter days). Then we 
 went to Whelan's, another chum of the Canon's ; here 
 I bought another knife and a scraper from Roben- 
 hausen, one of the most famous of the Swiss Lake 
 dwellings. The discoveries in the remains of these 
 habitations, as told in Keller's book, with the illus- 
 trations, make a most romantic story. They are 
 still carrying them out, and I've lately got a further 
 volume with the latest finds. What did you think of 
 the ' Fliegende Blatter ' ? Are they not very good ? 
 
(Editorial 
 
 393 
 
 especially those by Oberlander and Hengeler. There 
 are some magnificent designs in the Nos. for the 
 first half of this year by these two artists, especially 
 in the animal line — rats, mice, frogs, and birds, and 
 such small deer. The swells and ladies, etc., are 
 good, but they are easier. Here's an illustration 
 of what we suffer at the hands of editors ! Did 
 you notice the subject in ' Punch ' (from Album), 
 ' Yachting trifler and sad family man ' ? I wrote the 
 legend as you did : ' Yachting Man {airily and natu- 
 rally). "You ever caught in a squall, Brown? '" 
 You saw that the sapient Editor altered this to ' Have 
 you had any experience in squalls, Brown?'! and 
 further invented that filthy little ' naughtical ' ! It 
 was an emetic to me ! Make a note of any shooting, 
 hunting, or fishing subjects you may come across for 
 the Almanack. I've done one fishing one (from 
 Outsider), and shall send you the sketch. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 " P.S. — That round-point pen is very good. If you 
 find the emporium again I wish you would purchase 
 a box for me — the first made are always the best — 
 they will make them of cheaper metal if they succeed." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 [Oct. 22, 1887.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " Here is the sketch of the fishing story I said 
 
394 
 
 I'd send you. I hope you'll like it, and that there is 
 no mistake (I'm no fisherman) in the details. You'll 
 see the legend, I suppose, in the Almanack. I got 
 the roll of prints and MS. this morning, which seem 
 very interesting. It's curious to note the change in 
 the language and spelling in a little more than a 
 hundred years. That's a capital etching of your 
 father's, and well bitten — the crux in etching for 
 amateurs. Did he do many etchings ? I shall frame 
 the Gainsborough— am on the look-out for last century 
 oval, etc., frames. I expect they imitate these now- 
 a-days. I had a letter from Haydon, bustling me 
 up, as we had not met for a long time. I shall go 
 and see him next week. But time is up, and, that 
 you may get this to-morrow, adieu for present — more 
 next week. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 In the following year "King James's Wedding, 
 and other Rhymes," by J. Sands, author of " Out of 
 the World, or Life at St. Kilda," was published, 1 
 with illustrations by Charles Keene, Henry Christie, 
 (Mr. Sands' nephew), and others. Keene's work on 
 this book was altogether a labour of love, his friend- 
 ship with the author having been, as we have seen, 
 of a very rare and lasting nature. The publisher 
 informs me that the figures opposite pages 22 and 
 72 are portraits of the author drawn, contrary to 
 Keene's custom, from memory. Of this work we 
 
 1 Arbroath : T. Buncle, 1888. 
 
396 
 
 Ctjarles l&cene 
 
 find him writing : " I'm fast to those poems which 
 I promised to illustrate for my friend Sands. I 
 shall send you a copy of the book, and you will be 
 amused. He's a furious Radical, and I tell him I'm 
 rather handicapped with the work, as so many of the 
 poems have such a strong political leaning that I 
 could not touch them except derisively," and then he 
 laughs at the irony of Fate that calls upon him, the 
 essential Tory, to illustrate such sentiments as the 
 following- : — 
 
 " Lo ! Great Columbia from her copious horn 
 Pours into Britain streams of beef and corn, 
 Mutton and meal, and pippins dried and green, 
 Bacon and butter, cheese and butterine. 
 The territorial interest stands aghast, 
 And fain would hope the torrent cannot last." 
 
 The volume contains thirteen drawings by Keene, 
 some of which, noticeably those on pages 24, 41, and 
 68, are very charming studies. 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 239, King's Road, 
 " Chelsea. 
 
 " Saturday. 
 
 [Feb. 18, 1888.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 '' I hope you keep as well as this stingy wintry 
 weather permits. I've come off pretty well, in spite 
 of my dungeon-cold studio with badly fitting windows 
 and east wind blizzards. The time is uneventful ; and 
 sticking pretty close to work till midnight, and then 
 home to bed, leaves me not much to write about. 
 
& Conundrum 
 
 397 
 
 The last time I played truant, and spent a warm 
 evening reading by the fire at the Club, I heard a new 
 (I think) conundrum flying about, ' Why is a lifeboat 
 just come alongside a wreck like a new-born babe ? 
 Ans. Because the hoped for succour has at length 
 arrived ! ' Pretty and surprising, I thought. Try 
 Mrs. Crawhall with it, and write down the answer ; 
 perhaps she'll read it out before she discovers the 
 pun! Have you seen Hipkins' book of the Musical 
 Instruments that were shown at the Healtheries ? 
 The price is appalling, but I was sorely tempted, 
 but it is so purely a vol. ' de luxe ' that I resisted. 
 The only book I've got lately is a vol. of Playford's 
 of Songs and Dialogues, by Lawes, Wilson, etc. — 
 1690 — diamond-headed notes, but no accompani- 
 ment to the songs ; but it is interesting to spell out 
 the tunes. Did you see my portrait in ' Punch ' ? I 
 don't think my dress coat fits so badly as he has 
 depicted it, though it is a very old one. I had a 
 pleasant evening last night, dined with the Madrigal 
 Society. After dinner the books are brought on the 
 tables (as in Queen Bess's time). We sort ourselves 
 as to our voices, and halloo the compositions of Bird 
 and Wilbye and Gibbons to our great delectation, 
 breaking up about 9.30. Then, as we leave the 
 tables, the Abbey boys (the trebles) rush down and 
 pouch the dessert prestissimo. How does the new 
 book get on ? 
 
 " I got rather a good subject to-day — 
 " 'Schoolmaster {at the conclusion of the interview). 
 " I think, sir, you will have no occasion to repent 
 
398 
 
 Cljarleg Iteene 
 
 placing your sons under my care. I may mention 
 that in our time we have turned out two Senior 
 Wranglers, neither of whom have looked back with 
 
 regret upon the curriculum " 
 
 " ' Parent {self -made and strong-minded). " The — 
 ah — eh ? — Oh certainly — if you ketch 'em wranglin' 
 or any o' that nonsense, turn 'em out neck and crop 
 — or rather, don't spare the currie — or whatever yer 
 call it— let 'em 'ave it ! ! ! " ' 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 Arts Club, 
 
 Hanover Square, W. 
 
 [June 12, 1888.] 
 
 Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I envy you your holiday by Coquetside. I'm 
 still hard at work at my friend's verses ! and the pre- 
 face and index drawings imminent, so no country for 
 me yet. That was a nice notice of your book of poor 
 Westwood's. I got the 'Angler's Note-book,' both 
 series, though the first is out of print ; he must have 
 been a good fellow. I should have enjoyed that nine 
 miles walk with you. You ought to make some 
 more of those pre-Raphaelite sketches of the country- 
 side, if you don't fish. There is one of Bamboro' in 
 one of the Albums that I covet ; you told me once I 
 might have it, but I shall send you a sketch in ex- 
 change for it. I've several others, and I shall either 
 frame them, or perhaps bind them in a vol. with those 
 
JFafence 
 
 399 
 
 little local notes you sent me, with others of the same 
 sort, or in the book o' sangs. I read those articles 
 about the flint fish-hooks ; rather wild, I thought ; 
 don't believe in those flint ' gorges.' It says from the 
 ' Lovett Collection.' I've heard this antiquary is not 
 ' sound ' ! The story about the young lady falling 
 down in ball-room is too like one in an old ' Punch,' 
 with the difference that it is an old gent. I had a 
 letter from my friend who went to Japan, etc., for his 
 winter trip ; doesn't seem to be over ecstatic about 
 it ; says it's precious cold sometimes, like home — 
 and there's no bread ! Says he'll be back in July, 
 and expects me to go with him then into Suffolk to 
 begin golf again, for which he says he pines ! I haven't 
 been to any of the exhibitions yet of pictures, or the 
 Italian, Danish, or Irish. In a pawnbroker's window 
 near me there are some fictile specimens that strike 
 my fancy. A little lantern of Delft ware, blue on 
 white— perfect, and a little chest of drawers painted 
 with flowers, ' faience,' ! etc., etc., but I must resist. 
 I'm certain you wouldn't! More next week. 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 " 112, Hammersmith Road. 
 
 "/ufy 14th [1888]. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I've been a very bad correspondent lately, but 
 I'm glad to say I've finished the drawings for my 
 friend Sands' Poems at last, and can now look around 
 
4-00 
 
 Charles l&mu 
 
 a little, and have notions of undertaking 1 the round 
 of the many Exhibitions ; dare say I shall let many 
 of them slip after all. I was at the Academy ' Swarry,' 
 but met so many friends and gossips that I could not 
 save my shilling and see the works, so I shall have 
 to go again. There was the usual jam, but luckily 
 it was a coolish night. I think I sent you a card that 
 I was starting to visit some newish friends, which I 
 had promised to do since some time ago. This sacri- 
 fice of my pleasant idle Sunday at home, reading 
 the 'Weekly Chronicle Supplement' and pottering 
 generally, hung over me, and I wanted to get it over. 
 As it turned out, it was pleasant enough. My friend, 
 Laurence Harrison, is a rich stockbroker, and the last 
 two summers he has taken Maple Durham House of 
 the Blounts, an old Papist family, who have lived in 
 it since Queen Bess's days. There is a portrait of 
 one of them in ' Lodge's Portraits,' so you can 
 imagine its surroundings (it is near Reading and 
 Pangbourne, on the Thames)— the panelled rooms, 
 oak staircases, queer old family pictures, the priest's 
 hiding place, library of great folios, china cupboards 
 with the old Lateen plates and dishes. Some of the 
 old china looked to me very choice, but I'm an igno- 
 ramus in this line. With all this I passed a very 
 pleasant, dreamy day, a good deal in the beautiful 
 gardens — very pleasant hosts. The difficulty I had 
 was to stay about there and keep away from the river, 
 which they think a good deal of, but which was spoilt 
 for me by the cockney boat-crew^ in every shade of 
 mauve and pink, and the steam launches and house- 
 
Blake 
 
 401 
 
 boats. Came back on Monday morning. I'm going 
 for a few days to Birket Foster's next, but I'll post 
 you up when. 
 
 " I should have liked to see the collection of the 
 omnivorous Swedenborgian Antiquary, but I don't 
 know about Blake ! A little of him goes a good way 
 with me ! I like him best in book-plates and cuts. 
 The superficial admiration of Michael Angelo has had 
 a fearsome effect on some imaginations. I bid for 
 two Bewick books in a catologue I got the other day, 
 'A Spring Day' and 'A Winter Season.' I dare 
 say you have them. I got your welcome budget last 
 night when I got home. I went to the theatre ; have 
 not been since Canon G. took me to see the ' Mikado,' 
 and I'm ashamed of my laziness in this respect. Saw 
 an American company play the ' Taming of thf: 
 Shrew,' but the first lady overdid the part o: 
 Katherine — made her a maniac — otherwise it was 
 well enough done. It was amusing to hear Shake- 
 speare in the Boston dialect. That was a cheap lot 
 you picked up of the ' Vanity Fair ' cartoons. I was 
 scared this morning at receiving the prospectus of 
 those Rembrandt reproductions I told you of. When I 
 told my friend Heseltine, who is one of the promoters, 
 that I would subscribe, hearing the price was about 
 £5, I did not understand that this was only for the 
 first number ! but I find that altogether it will run to 
 the tune of £20 or so ! so I've written to back out 
 of the remaining Nos. if I can. I'm such an omni- 
 vorous collector, that I funk going so deeply in 
 one particular line. A specimen will do for me. I'm 
 
 D D 
 
402 
 
 Cljarlea 7&m\t 
 
 just now trying to pick up a fine Danish book of 
 Prehistoric Antiquities, beautifully illustrated, that 
 will cost me at least five or six pounds, as I fancy 
 it is out of print. 
 
 " Curious old chap, old M ! I wrote to him the 
 
 other day recommending him a book I was reading (he 
 passes his life in reading). He writes : ' It is a deed 
 of charity to put me on the track of a readable book, 
 as I find great difficulty in making out a list to apply 
 for.' This book I recommended is ' The Life and 
 Adventures of Arndt, the Singer of the German 
 Fatherland,' etc. He continues: 'but you put my 
 faith in you to a severe test when you tell me to read 
 about a " Singer " ! We have had a good many lives 
 of singers, from Milton and Byron downwards, but 
 they do not bear writing about ; the more we learn 
 about them the less we like them.' (!) — ' I have begun 
 many books with a wish to read them because they 
 are so much talked about and praised, for example : 
 "The Pilgrim's Progress," " Tristram Shandy," "Tom 
 Jones." These I mention particularly, because I have 
 made several attempts at each, but never could get 
 beyond a few pages. They seem to me to have every 
 fault possible, especially the greatest of all — they are 
 dull, desperately dull.' (!) You know he hates poetry 
 and music, and is (if possible) a Tory of a deeper dye 
 than either you or I. I think that's very funny, that 
 the more he reads about Milton the less he likes him ! 
 H e finishes his note : ' That must be a grand old place 
 you have been visiting. It is four hundred years old, 
 or close upon it. Sir Michael Blount of Maple 
 
Staple SDurfjam 
 
 403 
 
 Durham Gurney got the estate of Maple Durham 
 Chawsey in 1481, and shortly after built the fine 
 house you speak of (Burke). I hope you made a few- 
 sketches of old things in it. F. M.' (!) 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 1889— 1 891. 
 
 Rheumatism and dyspepsia. — Horror of tobacco. — Courage un- 
 der suffering. — Gives up Chelsea studio. — His accumulated " Ket." 
 — "The Daily Graphic." — A ray of hope. — Letter, December 16, 
 1889. — Tobacco-phobia gone. — Letter, January 11, 1890. — Letter, 
 March 22, 1890. — "An ominous and disheartening symptom." — 
 Letter, August 8, 1890. — Letter, August 29, 1890. — Visits of 
 friends. — A dozen black puddings. — Letter (undated) to Sir 
 John Millais. — Mr. Holman Hunt's account of his visit. — "Excuse 
 a dying man." — Letter, November 26, 1891. — •" An unconscion- 
 able long time a-dying." — " Smashing attacks." — The last letter. — 
 Death. — A solemn requiem. 
 
 HE beginning of the year 1889 was 
 marked by increasing rheumatic and 
 dyspeptic symptoms. 
 
 For a year or two, as we have seen, 
 Keene had been warned by unmistakable signs that 
 he was not the strong man he had been, and now 
 was to begin that constant and heroic struggle with 
 pain and weakness of a very distressing nature 
 which, after two years, was to culminate in death. 
 
 Writing to Mr. Harral, then in the West Indies, 
 on the 1 2th of May, he says : " I take the chance to 
 send you a greeting line, though I have nothing very 
 
406 
 
 Cfjailctf I&eene 
 
 pleasant to write about on my own account, having 
 been down and up and down again with rheumatism 
 ever since Christmas. The slightest accident of 
 weather would cripple me for days, and my last bout, 
 that I am only just mending from, was, from being 
 complicated with dyspepsia, very crushing, and has 
 left me quite a sorry invalid." 
 
 Again, in a further letter : " The doctors pronounced 
 my case one of intense dyspepsia, that had been 
 coming on for some time, when it culminated about 
 three months ago. I suddenly took a horror of 
 tobacco, and the taste has not returned since ; I wish 
 it would, and then I should be reassured I was 
 getting better." 
 
 He is, however, courageous over his sorry state, 
 and writes on July 27 in a joco-serious strain to Mr. 
 Crawhall : " My shrunken thighs, hollow and wrinkled 
 with the loss of fat . . . put me in mind of Albert 
 Durer's 'Anatomies'; otherwise, I'm better and not 
 depressed." And again : " The tobacco taste has not 
 come back yet, though I expect it will soon, as my 
 appetite is improving, and I eat more at meals ; that's 
 one reason I dread going into the country. What 
 are you to do there if you can't smoke ? In town 
 you can divert yourself in many ways. The last 
 time I was at the Suffolk coast I and my friend used 
 to play dominoes till we were blind every evening, 
 for lack of books, etc." 
 
 About the same time he wrote to Mr. Harral : 
 " Here at home I can crawl down and sit by the fire 
 till the pains relax, with my books and toys round 
 
tobacco horror 
 
 407 
 
 me, so I'm daunted about going out of town. . . . 
 I've no doubt the air of Felixstowe would benefit us 
 if we plucked up courage — ' there's the rub.' " 
 
 And so he went on, sometimes better and some- 
 times worse, tempted at times to go and see what 
 change of air would do for him, but again shrinking 
 from the discomfort of one of his severe attacks 
 away from home. 
 
 He was not yet wholly confined to the house ; 
 indeed, at times, would dine with an old friend, and 
 look in at the club, but he found the effort almost 
 more than he could bear. The tobacco horror still 
 was strong upon him too, and he missed terribly the 
 customary solace of his pipe ; " I suppose," he says, 
 " this answers to the ' delirium tremens ' of the 
 stimulant imbiber." 
 
 At this time he would seem to have had but little 
 hope of his ultimate recovery, and, with the deter- 
 mination so distinctive of all he did, he made up his 
 mind that there was no further object to be gained by 
 retaining his studio, and forthwith gave his landlord 
 notice. On August 19 he writes: "I have made a 
 beginning in the disposal of ' Ket ' 1 from the Chelsea 
 den. — It 'gars me grue,' rather. It says Finis so 
 forcibly." Again to Mr. Crawhall : "And now I've 
 to think about getting rid of my accumulated ' Ket ' 
 at Chelsea. It must be done sooner or later ; but 
 
 1 A Northumbrian word, meaning "carrion, useless lumber," etc. 
 Mr. Crawhall had happened to use the word in correspondence, 
 explaining its meaning, and Keene, with his fondness for quaint 
 terms, appropriated and constantly used it. 
 
408 
 
 there are certain old 'properties' that have been 
 of infinite use to me, that I've an affection for, 
 and which I shall part with regretfully — e.g., an old 
 ragged weather-beaten poacher's velveteen shooting 
 coat, an Irish coat [sketched], a dummy horse and 
 saddle, breeches, boots, etc. — that I could never get 
 the like again ! ' Othello's occupation's gone ' with 
 them! I was delighted with the inscribed 'bane.' 
 It will adorn my chimney shelf in company with 
 another ' bane ' you gave me, a horse's vertebra 
 painted in the semblance of a nonconformist 
 
 preacher I went yesterday to the Spanish 
 
 Exhibition — not very Spanish, except a band of 
 guitar players, and three women, one very pretty, 
 who sang in a nasal tone. One of the dancers, 
 a plain, common-looking wench, directly she stood 
 up and began dancing, throwing her arms about 
 with the castanets, was transformed into ' a thino- 
 of beauty.' I shall go again and try and find some- 
 thing Spanish to send you." 
 
 A month or two later he finally cleared out of the 
 studio, and wrote to Mr. Harral : " I had a hard week 
 packing up, destroying and dispersing the accumula- 
 tions of years. Luckily I was mostly pretty well at 
 the time, and so got through it." 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 " 112, Hammersmith Road, 
 " West Kensington. 
 
 " Oct. [5], 1889. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I've cleared out of the Chelsea studio, after a 
 
Heated CljelSca fe>tuHi'o 409 
 
 hard week of packing up and dispersing my proper- 
 ties, books, prints, drawing-boards, etc., etc., that I've 
 been accumulating since I was a boy. Luckily I 
 was pretty well during this time, and free from rheu- 
 matism. The last two days I've been crippled at 
 home. My den here is so filled up with bookshelves, 
 I've been obliged to hang most of my prints and 
 drawings on the staircase, which, I expect, when 
 I've finished, will be entirely covered — a very hetero- 
 geneous lot. I have decorated my lister's room 
 with the choice ones. This adjoins my den. Hay- 
 don has been moving too, and I'm curious to see 
 how he has managed to stow away his collection 
 into a smaller house, I imagine, than his hitherto 
 official residence in the Royal Hospital. Mine was 
 nothing to his, and his books were mostly in noble 
 glazed bookcases. He has taken a house at Barnes, 
 not very far from me, at least it would not have 
 been in former days, but I'm not so spry at walking 
 now. I hope Barnes is all right; I shall write to 
 him. I had a letter from Craibe Angus this morn- 
 ing, flattering — he seemed pleased with the scratch 
 I made in his birthday album, and is going to send 
 me an edition of his favourite Bur-rns. To-morrow 
 is the Almanack dinner, but I don't feel quite up to 
 it, so shall not go ; it's a stodgy feed — soup, fish, 
 flesh, and fowl, etc. — and, as careful as I may be, I 
 generally am tempted to exceed my ordinary ration, 
 which I suffer for afterwards. My stomach is in 
 such a queasy state, that a grain in excess puts me 
 all wrong, and, as my appetite is improving, I am 
 
Cfjarlcsf J&mu 
 
 sometimes heedless on this point. I had a very 
 kind letter from the Stevensons, asking me up to 
 Ach-na-cloich, but I'm afraid of it just now till I'm 
 better. The long journey, and the probability of 
 damp weather and rain, daunts me. She says they 
 have had a very fine autumn, and that she has been 
 very busy with visitors. I 'm very sorry I cannot 
 go, as, if you can keep out of excursions, it is a very 
 cheery house, and the landscape round about is 
 enchanting. That award from Paris was rather a 
 surprise to me, as I had forgotten I had anything 
 there. I did not send anything myself, but my 
 friend Mrs. Edwards contributed some. — It is a 
 queer arrangement. They send you a cast, gilt 
 I believe, and if you wish for the gold medal 
 (proper) you can buy it for a price ! I don't think I 
 shall invest ! Did you see that there is a project of a 
 daily illustrated paper to be published in London ? 
 W. L. Thomas, of the ' Graphic,' has something 
 to do with it. I should prophesy there will be 
 some money dropped about this. The weekly ones, 
 I find, bore me rather ! Some money of mine 
 dropped the other day — an American Railway, 
 and my brother wrote home that he had sold them 
 (at a loss), from the idea they might get worse, 
 and the next two coupons were returned unpaid ! 
 the confounded swindlers ! The manager said he 
 would buy some other (American) security with the 
 cash. I wrote, NO — that I would put some more 
 to the sum and would prefer Consols ! This was 
 rather a 'facer' for my friend, who is a Radical, 
 
"2Datlp (Bcflpljic" 
 
 and believes in American honesty. My friend Rich- 
 mond has gone to Wells to paint the Bishop's por- 
 trait, and then he goes to Durham. I hope he'll 
 get over to Newcastle and call on you. Show him 
 that little drawing from the Missal. 
 
 " Kindest regards to Mrs. C. and the boys and 
 girls, if they are with you now, and am 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 He further writes to Mr. Harral of the rumoured 
 production of the " Daily Graphic," about which he 
 had received a circular : — 
 
 " I know I'm disposed to be a pessimist, but I 
 fear there'll be some good money dropped over this I' 
 Have we not enough illustration with the two week- 
 lies ? A good many people take them from habit,, 
 but I should think their bulky accumulation must be 
 a bore ; but perhaps I'm not a good judge, because 
 I've been suffering from this state of paper repletion 
 lately." 
 
 In December he writes to Mr. Crawhall, still com- 
 plaining that the tobacco-phobia continues. " I have 
 still the distaste for tobacco, and can no longer quote 
 the stanza from my old friend Percival Leigh's ' Ode 
 to Mrs. Grundy,' in ' Punch,' years ago — 
 
 ' Grandeur sinking, 
 
 Never thinking 
 How your censure I provoke, 
 
 Oft a cutty 
 
 Pipe with smutty 
 Bowl along the road I smoke ! ' " 
 
412 
 
 Cljarlejs I&cene 
 
 Then, on December the nth, a little ray of hope 
 shows itself. He is writing to Mr. Harral at Felix- 
 stowe. " Will you," he. says, " find out what I'm 
 indebted to the Golf Club up to the present time 
 and I'll look out. I like to cherish the idea I may 
 some day be well enough to go over the links." 
 
 How pathetic are hopes destined never to be 
 fulfilled, read in the light of a full knowledge of 
 events ! 
 
 To Joseph Crawhall, Esq. 
 
 "112, Hammersmith Road, 
 " Monday. 
 
 [Dec. 16, 1889.] 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 ". . . . I hope I may be able to please (satisfy) 
 myself about the 'Willie brewed' drawing, but I'm 
 doubtful. In the work I do now for ' Punch ' I 
 have to depend on old studies disguised and dodged, 
 for I never could do any work without a foundation 
 from nature, and now I've got no studio and have 
 parted with all my properties I should find it difficult 
 to work up an out-of-the-way subject (for me) like 
 this ; but I'll try, and perhaps in my old sketch-books 
 I may find some notes. If not, you shall have the best 
 ' Punch ' drawing I can choose, or choose your own. 
 I have not read or seen B.'s book, but surely such a 
 miserable ass could not write one. Did you see the 
 dummy No. of the ' Daily Graphic,' with the Battle 
 o' Waterloo ? I agree with you in doubting its success ; 
 but we are such a pair of last century John Bulls as 
 not to be good judges. 
 
413 
 
 " I've had an invitation to Birket Foster's for 
 Christmas, but since I've been an invalid have got to 
 be partial to my own bed and fireside, but I shall 
 try and pluck up courage and go. I'll advise you in 
 time ; at present I'm enjoying a convalescent immu- 
 nity from pain, and feel braver — 'have been recom- 
 mended the juice of lemons without sugar, and 
 begin to believe in it. More anon. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Mrs. Macdonald. 
 
 "112, Hammersmith Road, 
 "West Kensington. 
 
 "Dec. 2>oth, '89. 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Macdonald, 
 
 I must explain how I have become an 
 invalid, and will be as short as possible, as one (who 
 has had a long spell of health and activity) is apt to 
 talk on that theme to an undue extent. About last 
 Christmas I was attacked by terrible bouts of quasi- 
 rheumatic pains, which quite crippled me. After 
 some time the doctors decided mine was a case of 
 intense dyspepsia that had been coming on for years. 
 These attacks of pain have continued all this year, 
 laying me up on an average one week in every three ! 
 so that I have got woefully lean, weighing barely ten 
 stone. 
 
 " My old friend Sir Alfred Garrod lays it on to my 
 smoking, but he's an anti-tobacco man. The other 
 local practitioner says, partly from my dining alone 
 and always reading at meals ! 
 
414 
 
 Cljarleg Ikceite 
 
 " Voila tout! My object now is to get this weight 
 back. In the autumn I gave up my studio at 
 Chelsea, which was a cold, draughty place, not daring 
 to face another winter there. Here at home in a 
 small room, which I can keep warm, I have been 
 comparatively comfortable, but I think my working 
 days are within ' measurable distance ' of being over. 
 
 " I am surrounded by books in my den, and, having 
 a passion for reading, I am never at a loss for 
 amusement and interest ; and I confess, in all this 
 sickness, I have not lost my spirits or been depressed, 
 so I hope my liver cannot be very much out of order. 
 
 " I think of you whenever I put my sugar in my 
 coffee, remembering your warning, and, aware that it 
 is not good for digestion, I try to control my sweet 
 tooth. 
 
 " I carry in the middle of my heart the gratefullest 
 recollections of Aberdeen, my kind hosts there, the 
 scenery and surroundings, the friends I met and 
 those I casually became acquainted with, and the 
 pleasant jaunts round the city. 
 
 " I have always recommended people to go there for 
 choice of scenery, fine air, not too hot! and pleasant 
 inhabitants and no tourists. I've had no holidays 
 like those I had there since. I'm afraid in this lone 
 
 o 
 
 budget there's o'er much about myself. Some day, 
 when you have time, you will let me hear how you . 
 are ; and wishing you many Happy New Years, 
 " Believe me, 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
Karljer Better 
 
 415 
 
 By the end of the year the tobacco horror had left 
 him, and on New Year's Day he writes : "I'm much 
 better, I hope, as I've enjoyed a longer immunity 
 from pain than hitherto all the year, but don't like to 
 be confident. I take a whiff of tobacco too, of an 
 evening, with increasing relish, which is a good sign." 
 
 He had not, however, dared to pay his usual visit 
 to the Birket Fosters, whose house, brimming over 
 with good cheer, might have proved too great a 
 temptation for his stomach, still, he says, " in a queasy 
 state." 
 
 However, he feels more inclined to go about and 
 see his friends, and his spirit is for a time more hope- 
 ful, and the outlook altogether more cheerful. Of 
 one of these visits he writes, with a naive touch of 
 regret for past uncharitableness : " I looked in at 
 
 's last night. He asks after you. Years ago 
 
 we used, I forget why, to think him rather a bore, 
 but I suppose we grow more tolerant as we get 
 older, and, he being booky and pointy, etc., we get 
 on very well together now." 
 
 To T. Barnes, Esq} 
 
 " 112, Hammersmith Road, 
 "West Kensington. 
 
 '"''Jan. 11, 1890. 
 
 " Dear Barnes, 
 
 " I admire your courage and resolution to get 
 well. I try and ride that Great Horse, but he gives 
 me awful croppers ; yesterday was a day of baneful 
 
 1 T. Barnes, Esq., F.S.A., of Durham. I am indebted to Mr. 
 Austin Dobson for this letter. 
 
416 
 
 Charles Ikeene 
 
 pain ; to-day I am stiff and crippled, but easy when 
 I'm still. I expect it will be a day or two before I can 
 get out, with the use of my legs. I hope when you 
 get to town I may be able to come to that pleasant 
 symposium you spoke of in your letter, but I'm 
 obliged to be very careful in my diet, and I eat so 
 little that I'm an outrage at a generous 'board.' 
 You ought to see the Holbeins at the Tudor Ex- 
 hibition ; though I have not been myself, yet I hear 
 they are very good. I hear Canon Greenwell is in 
 town, but I have not hunted him up yet. I have 
 lately taken to a whiff of tobacco in the evenings, 
 but perhaps I overdid it, and my last bout of pain 
 was the result. I hear of friends right and left 
 being visited and suffering from the influenza, but 
 haven't made the acquaintance myself yet. I'm 
 developing into a gourmet. There's an Italian 
 restaurant in London where they serve the cele- 
 brated ' Bouillabaisse ' on Fridays. You remember 
 Thackeray's ballad about it. (I found it too good.) 
 I'm not surprised that it inspired his muse! God 
 save you and speed your mending. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Hemy Harral, Esq. 
 
 " 112, Hammersmith Road, 
 " W. Kensington. 
 
 "March 22 [1890]. 
 
 " Dear Harral, 
 
 " Sometimes when I'm at my very best, which is 
 not often, I think of you and a sunny morning at the 
 
Illness* 
 
 417 
 
 Bath, 1 but, when I'm cast down in my chair, crippled 
 for a week at a time, so that I can hardly shuffle 
 along, I can't help thinking I should be out of place. 
 There's no hiding it, I'm an invalid ■ par excellence ' ! 
 Two or three times a week I have a ' bad night,' in 
 which case there's no place like home and your own 
 bed. I won't afflict you with details of my ailments. 
 I can only hope patiently that I may be able to 
 regain some of my lost weight and strength, and 
 then I'll get out for a change of air like a shot. I 
 
 heard of you from R , a very nice fellow, and all 
 
 his family too. He lives at Campden Hill, has a 
 fine collection, and is an authority on Turner's ' Liber 
 
 Studiorum.' Give my kind regards to Mrs. C 
 
 and my thanks for her kind offer, but I shrink from 
 staying with friends ; a groaning cripple (as I am 
 often) could not be comfortable under these circum- 
 stances The trees in London are budding 
 
 away fast, almond trees in blossom, and it's tantaliz- 
 ing to be kept in, as I often am, and unable to take ad- 
 vantage of the fresh air I've subscribed to 
 
 the London Library, so I've no lack of books ; and 
 sometimes a visitor calls in the evening, as, if I go 
 
 to town, I generally get back to dinner. comes 
 
 now and again, and talks incessantly the whole 
 
 evening. Luckily I'm a good listener. comes 
 
 sometimes. He gets awfully fat I've still a 
 
 horror of tobacco, but my appetite is good, and my 
 difficulty is not to over-eat, which is difficult some- 
 times, as they make very appetizing dishes for me at 
 1 The Bath Hotel, Felixstowe. 
 E E 
 
4i8 
 
 Cljacles l^eenc 
 
 home. I suppose the cuisine at the Bath is much 
 the same, but I make such a poor ' knife and fork ' 
 at dinner that I'm quite ashamed to feed out any- 
 where. I have not dined at J. P. H.'s 1 for some 
 time." 
 
 In April he was startled to find his feet and ankles 
 swollen. " An ominous and disheartening- symptom," 
 he writes, " which promises to confine me more than 
 ever. In short, I cannot conceal from myself that 
 I'm ' broken down ' at present — a stranded wreck. 
 
 " It looks charming out of doors, with the trees 
 bursting into greenery, but I have to sit at home 
 with my feet up. Luckily I have my whack of 
 books subscribed [for] to the London Library. I 
 cannot get up to the Club now, so I've no news to 
 
 tell you ' Punch ' is now Bradbury, Agnew 
 
 and Co., Limited ! " 
 
 On April 18 he wrote to Mrs. Bennett : " Luckily 
 I've a passion for reading, otherwise I don't know 
 what I should do ; and I do not suffer from depres- 
 sion, and hope, with care and patience, to get over 
 this some day." 
 
 To Mrs. Macdonald. 
 
 " 112, Hammersmith Road, 
 " West Kensington. 
 
 " May Mi, 'go. 
 
 "Dear Mrs. Macdonald, 
 
 " I heard from Geo. Reid, who, with Mrs. R., 
 called on me yesterday, that you were in town, and 
 
 1 Mr. J. P. Heseltine, with whom C. K. was in the habit of 
 dining every Sunday evening. 
 
8 Eesfpi'te 
 
 419 
 
 I felt and expressed my strong desire to go up to 
 town to see you, but alas ! I'm a sad invalid, and 
 to-day so rheumatic and weak on my legs that I can 
 scarcely move. Some fortnight ago my feet and 
 ankles began to swell, since when I've been obliged 
 to lay them up. This cripples me materially. If 
 I'm better to-morrow, I will try and call on you at 
 the same time they mentioned. I've been ill now a 
 long time, and ought to be much depressed, but I 
 manage to keep in pretty good spirits. 
 
 I had an invitation to the R.A. banquet, but of 
 course could not go — a great disappointment. 
 
 " I often think of the old Aberdeen days, and of 
 my pleasant visits to Kepplestone. 
 
 " With a faint hope of being able to see you, 
 " I am, 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 To Joseph Craw hall, Esq. 
 
 " 112, Hammersmith Road, 
 " W. Kensington. 
 
 [June 2, 1890]. 
 
 " Dear Crawhall, 
 
 " I heard the assemblage in the Park at the four- 
 in-hand meet was something tremendous, I suppose 
 from that rumour of some ladies having threatened 
 to ride ' en cavalier ' ! I long for a lounge through 
 the treasures of South Kensington, as I have not 
 been there for years. I'm just now enjoying (!) one 
 of my intervals of freedom from pain, and, at my age 
 
420 
 
 and state of health at present, that's happiness. I'm 
 gingerly going in for a little animal food with my 
 porridge, which hitherto has not disturbed me, but I 
 must not begin to boast. I wish those icebergs in 
 the Atlantic would clear away south. I've no doubt 
 that is the explanation of the shrewdness of the air 
 from the S.W. which spoils this spring weather. 
 Having so little fat on my bones it touches me up. 
 Have you turned into the National Gallery yet, or 
 the N. Portrait Collection ? I have never seen the 
 latter. I assure you it is an act of the most Christian 
 charity to call and have 'a crack' with me in my 
 sequestration, and I hope, in your jaunts to town, 
 you will break them now and then in my behalf. 
 When I get stronger on my legs I shall come down 
 upon you at Ealing. Love to all. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 " I return your Club papers. Such a galaxy of 
 military and ecclesiastical swells, I don't know a 
 man Jack of them." 
 
 To Mrs. Edwards. 
 
 " 112, Hammersmith Road, 
 " W. Kensington. 
 
 " Friday [Aug. 8, 1890]. 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Edwards, 
 
 " Thanks for the traveller's letters, etc. Poor 
 
 Mrs. B ! I kept that short note of hers— could 
 
 not destroy it. You might like to have it hereafter. 
 I still keep better, i.e., no relapse, which I hope is 
 
»>tattlep 
 
 421 
 
 ' better ' for me. Candid friend I met the other day 
 expressed a hope that I should 'pull through'! I 
 have noticed there is a certain clique whose cue it is 
 to vilify Stanley. I do not know who Mr. Charles 
 Hall is, but I'd make a bet he's a hot Radical ! but 
 I've read Stanley's books, and I find evidence that 
 he is a man of lofty courage and fortitude under 
 misfortune, and with marvellous control over his 
 feelings and natural passions — and with great com- 
 passion and pity for the beastly savages who thwart 
 and seek to kill him in the scientific pursuit he was 
 engaged in, and, whilst starved and hunted by them, 
 curbing the rage of his followers, who could have 
 swept them off with firearms, and only using them 
 in the very last resource to save their lives. If his 
 temper and health have been impaired by what he 
 has gone through, I don't wonder at it. 
 
 " Yours ever, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene. 
 
 " Hearty Sir John Millais and Holman Hunt 
 called last Sunday ; the former was just off to his 
 place in Scotland ; he said he would send me some 
 grouse." 
 
 To Mrs. Bennett. 
 
 " Aug. 21, 1890. 
 " Your kind note quite cheered me up, though 
 upon the whole, all through my illness, I have felt 
 very little depression, and am very easily amused 
 with reading, and seldom am in any pain. My 
 greatest trouble is that I cannot walk without 
 
422 
 
 Cijarle0 Iktziu 
 
 fatigue, and am confined to the house and my 
 chair. — I don't think I've been nearer Clopton 
 than Woodbridge, and have not read of the legend 
 you speak of, although I pick up every book I can 
 that treats of dear old Suffolk. You will find Dun- 
 wich a queer old place. Fitzgerald thought it 
 melancholy, though he liked to go there. I hope 
 you have read his letters ; they are charming to me, 
 as I can hear him talk in imagination. Westleton, a 
 large village near by, is picturesque. — I find this 
 a very cold summer, though wearing all my winter 
 clothes, but I've so little fat on my bones. My 
 appetite is very good and I sleep well, so I cannot 
 complain. I'm too comfortable at home, with 
 innumerable dodges and contrivances, to think of 
 going away, and am just too sick to rough it at an 
 hotel or lodging, though I know the magic of sea air. 
 — I hope you will have a good harvest-time. How 
 fond I should be of the animals if I lived at a farm ! 
 Our only pet is an old dog of seventeen years. 
 — I hope you will have fine weather at Dunwich. 
 I used to stay there ; it was an awfully quiet place 
 then, and we used to look on a visit to Southwold as 
 a roystering diversion " 
 
 All through his illness many friends journeyed 
 down constantly to Hammersmith to " have a crack " 
 with the invalid. Amongst them were Mrs. Ed- 
 wards, Mr. Holman Hunt, Sir John Millais, Mr. 
 Heseltine, Mr. Mills, and Mr. Heming, whilst Mr. 
 Barnes and others would send from time to time 
 a tasty teal, woodcock, partridge, grouse, or other 
 
dolman #Iote0 
 
 423 
 
 tempting dainty. One day he happened to mention 
 to somebody his craving for a black pudding, which 
 getting wind, they literally showered down upon him, 
 to his dismay, by the dozen from all quarters of 
 the town. 
 
 To Sir John Millais, Bart. 
 
 " Dear Sir J ohn, 
 
 " I cannot thank you enough for the bonny 
 partridges and for so kindly thinking of me, but I've 
 a poor bulletin to send. Have had a very bad 
 week or more with pain and fever, and the latter 
 demolishes all idea of time with me, but have 
 managed to get comparative ease in a supine 
 position and sleep, — but it's terrible to have to 
 write about oneself so. Holman Hunt came to 
 see me the other day, and talked to me for an 
 hour." 
 
 Of this and other visits Mr. Holman Hunt sends 
 me the following touching account : " When I went 
 to see him in his last illness, what was striking 
 was his great composure in talking about the pro- 
 spects of the issue. He did not at first dismiss the 
 thought that he might be re-established in health 
 under favourable circumstances, but he evidently 
 recognized the probability of the reverse. 
 
 " It would, I know, now seem idle to many to 
 narrate that once, when he seemed disposed to take 
 the less hopeful view, I cited some author who 
 spoke with certainty of 'the life beyond the grave.' 
 ' And do you really believe this ? ' he said. I 
 
424 
 
 Charles Ikcene 
 
 answered with what appeared to me irresistible 
 arguments. He continued placidly, but sadly, ' I 
 can't think so.' Once we talked of Haydon's life. 
 He knew Taylor's volume, but not the one by 
 H.'s son. He agreed in condemnation of Taylor's 
 low estimate of Haydon's character ; but, when I 
 offered him the autobiography, he said, 'It is too 
 painful ; I could not bear it.' 
 
 " One evening I had been delayed in my visit, and 
 it was near his meal-time. When my name was 
 announced his gaunt figure appeared in the passage, 
 and he came forward, saying : ' Excuse a dying man, 
 my dear Hunt. I am just having dinner brought 
 up, and I cannot eat unless alone. Do come another 
 evening, and a little earlier.' 
 
 " These simple facts are all I can recount of his 
 last days." 
 
 To Mrs. Macdonald. 
 
 " 1 1 2, Hammersmith Road, 
 " West Kensington. 
 
 " Sept. 12th, '90. 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Macdonald, 
 
 " The splendid white gooseberries came in fine 
 order 
 
 " You saw me sitting here, and, being in health, it 
 seemed easy to you that I could get into a cab and 
 boat and be conveyed to Aberdeen so easily. Alas ! 
 no — I am soon fatigued ; cannot walk well from my 
 ankles having swollen. 
 
 " For the last ten days (though I've been very stiff 
 and rheumatic, partly from a nasty fall I had last 
 
425 
 
 Saturday) I've had to rouse myself to take a ride in 
 a Victoria a kind friend put at my disposal. This 
 was not all bliss, for, being stiff about the neck and 
 shoulders, the elastic springs of the carriage would 
 wobble my head about to my much discomfort, but I 
 believe the fresh air I took did me good. 
 
 " How kind it was of Sir John Millais to think of 
 me — a grand fellow ! 
 
 " I should so like to know all about the new por- 
 traits. 
 
 " I shall send you a bulletin soon. 
 
 " Yours very sincerely, 
 
 " Charles S. Keene." 
 
 On November 26 he wrote to Mrs. Bennett : — 
 " I hope you were amused with my friend Fitz- 
 gerald's letters. They were a great attraction to me, 
 from kindred tastes — artistic, social, musical — all 
 round. ... I should have written to you before, but 
 sickness makes me sluggish, and, being obliged to 
 keep my feet up, I write in a constrained position. 
 I am afraid I am not better. Infirmities increase upon 
 me, but my appetite is so good and I sleep well, so 
 that, like Charles 2nd, I shall have to apologize for 
 
 being such an unconscionable long time a-dying 
 
 " You may very likely see my brother Harry at 
 Ipswich. How I wish I could see the dear old place 
 again, tho' changed as it is from its primitive 
 picturesqueness as I first knew it. I hope some day 
 I may get so much better as to be able to write more 
 at ease. ' 
 
426 
 
 Cfjaries Jkunz 
 
 And so it went on, attack after attack, and the 
 pains waning very slowly. Now and again there 
 would be an interval, and an effort to get out and 
 about ; but then would come " a smashing attack of 
 my rheumatic pains, this time in the shoulders and 
 round the chest and ribs, so that sitting in a chair 
 and reading was not easy." 
 
 To Mrs. Macdonald. 
 
 "112, Hammersmith Road, 
 " West Kensington. 
 _ "Dec., i8qo. 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Macdonald, 
 
 " How kind of you to write me such a nice long 
 letter, to which I, to my shame, am replying so tardily; 
 but sickness and its adjuncts have often diverted me. 
 
 " Sometimes after breakfast comes a succession of 
 visitors at intervals, that leaves me very fatigued at 
 the end of the day. The doctors tell me to eat as 
 much as I can, and, as my appetite is good, I try to 
 follow their directions, and I sleep very well. Such, 
 with the exception of reading, seems an ignoble 
 existence. 
 
 " I was sorry enough I could not come with my 
 sister to visit you this summer, but I could not be 
 moved. She sends you her love. 
 
 " I'm so feeble on my legs, I have to keep them up, 
 which makes writing rather a constrained position ; 
 I therefore make my letters by instalments. 
 
 "Winter has come down upon us like a Polar Bear! 
 and the cold searches me awfully, having no fat on 
 
427 
 
 my bones. I never felt it so sharply, but I console 
 myself that we are within ' measurable distance ' of 
 the shortest day 
 
 " Sir John Millais is back, I suppose, in London 
 now — dear old fellow, he sent me a brace of pheasants 
 in the beginning of November, 
 
 " I am looking forward to Mrs. Oliphant's ' Royal 
 Edinburgh,' illustrated by G. Reid. I must have 
 that, though my shelves are so full and I've the 
 ' London Library' to choose from (December— Ah I 
 the newspaper gone, so I cannot guess the date). 
 The doctors have put me on cod liver oil, which I 
 believe in, if you can take it with a little vinegar 
 and pepper. Think as shortly as you can of an 
 oyster! and eat a sardine to follow! During the 
 last ten days they have made my bedroom next- 
 door, which is comfortable, but it depressed me 
 rather at first. I found the thirty-five steps to the 
 top of the house onerous. The list of the Portraits- 
 now is very interesting. 
 
 " Yours ever sincerely, 
 
 "Charles S. Keene." 
 
 [Received December 9, 1890.] 
 
 But almost enough of these letters. As we write,. 
 " Mr. Punch's " jovial countenance laughs out upon us 
 side by side with these touching memorials, which 
 bear upon them the touch of a vanished hand ; and a 
 sob at the universal pathos of things chokes our 
 answering laughter as we realize how the hearty 
 showman himself must have cried o'nights as his 
 
428 
 
 Cljaclegf Ikeene 
 
 mortal assessors dropped away from him one by 
 one. 
 
 One letter there is, however— the last and most 
 pathetic of all, — almost too sacred for publicity, but 
 without which the long series would be incomplete. 
 During his last days, when strength, both bodily and 
 mental, had decreased to an alarming degree, he made 
 strenuous efforts to remember his old friends, and 
 gave instructions to his brother, who was in constant 
 attendance at his bedside, regarding souvenirs to be 
 handed to them. Amongst others, Mr. Robert 
 Dudley, from whom he had lately received a letter, 
 was upon his mind. He asked for pencil and paper, 
 and wrote, in his blindness, diagonally across the 
 sheet : — 
 
 " Dear Dudley, 
 
 " Too late to write to — write to — to — a dying 
 
 man. 
 
 " Your ever, 
 
 Charles S. Keenene." 
 
 The effort was too much, and from that time he lay 
 still and awaited his end. One of the last things he 
 said was, on hearing that there was deep snow on the 
 ground, " Oh ! what will the little birds do ? " 
 
 So died, on the 4th of January, 1891, Charles 
 Keene, watched over to the last, tenderly and 
 devotedly, by an old servant, Mary Ann Smith, to 
 whom he was much attached, and who alone 
 he permitted to minister to his ever-increasing 
 necessities. 
 
2Deatlj 
 
 429 
 
 The " Punch " poet sung of him — 
 
 " Frank, loyal, unobtrusive, simple-hearted, 
 Loving his book, his pipe, his song, his friend ; 
 Peaceful he lived and peacefully departed, 
 A gentle life-course with a gracious end." 
 
 He was buried in Hammersmith Cemetery, on the 
 10th of January, in the presence of many relations 
 and friends, including most of his " Punch " colleagues. 
 
 On the 2nd of February following the Moray 
 Minstrels sang a solemn requiem in his honour, 
 the company rising to their feet spontaneously, and 
 silently resuming their seats at its close. Followed 
 by Mendelssohn's " Bead Mortui," his old comrades 
 sang the beautiful words of Kreutzer's Part Song — 
 
 " Hark ! above us on the mountain 
 Mournful tolls the funeral bell, 
 While a shepherd's boy so gaily 
 Sings below us in the dell ; 
 Now the train, the steep ascending, 
 Chaunt the chorus loud and clear; 
 Hush'd the shepherd's song of gladness 
 As the sound comes o'er his ear. 
 To their long home on the mountain 
 All in turn consign'd must be ; 
 Simple shepherd, simple shepherd, 
 Soon that bell shall toll for thee ! " 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 LAST WORDS. 
 
 No apology needed.— Of biographers.— A biography, not a 
 ■memoir.— Its scope.— No complete bibliography.— Mr. W. L 
 Thomas.— The illustrated aunuals.— Mr. Hollway's letter to " The 
 Times."— " Round the Table."— The sacrilege of indecency.— 
 " A bow be it."— Horror of shaking hands.— Bogus plum-cake.— 
 Stealing a march on Mr. Holman Hunt.— Estimate of contem- 
 poraries.— Mr. Tenniel.— Sir F.Leighton.— " A great but unknown 
 artist."— Across the Channel, a chorus of praise.— The end. 
 
 HERE is no abstract apology needed 
 for writing the Life of Charles Keene, 
 but perhaps a word is due as to the 
 privilege of doing so having fallen to 
 the lot of one who never so much as set eyes upon 
 him. The steps by which this was brought about 
 do not concern the reader, but what does concern 
 him is the question as to whether one who has been 
 influenced by personal intercourse is best qualified 
 to deal with the various episodes in a man's life, so 
 as to present a true and impartial portrait of him, 
 or an absolute stranger. 
 
 The friend-biographer, with his prejudices and 
 partialities, born of participation in many incidents 
 ^quorum pars magna fziit), is known to us from 
 
43i 
 
 Boswell downwards, and his view of every particu- 
 lar is tinged, for good or evil, thereby. Now, what- 
 ever disadvantages the stranger-biographer may 
 have, and they of course are many, he has the one 
 inestimable advantage, so far as he possesses the 
 judicial mind, of being able to weigh impartially 
 the evidence, pro and con, of everything that is open 
 to two opinions. Far be it from me to claim for 
 myself the judicial quality in any special degree, 
 but this much I will say, that I have been at the 
 greatest pains, in the space of time at my disposal, 
 to hear evidence on both sides of matters on which 
 I have presumed to pass judgment. I approve of 
 the matter, though not the manner, of Boswell's 
 reply to Mrs. Hannah More, when she appealed to 
 him to show some reticence and mitigate some of 
 the asperities of their departed friend. He said 
 uncouthly, though not, I think, unjustly, that he 
 would not cut off his (Johnson's) claws, nor make a 
 tiger a cat, to please anybody. Happily, in our 
 case, there were no claws to be cut off if I had 
 wished, and I certainly had but a very manageable 
 tiger, if indeed there was anything of the tiger at all, 
 to deal with. So clearly indeed do I recognize this 
 lack of asperities in the biography which lies behind 
 me, that I feel it is due to the subject of it to point 
 out that their absence is not owing to the partiality 
 of a friend, but to the fact that the constituted in- 
 quisitor, invested with powers of collecting and 
 receiving evidence as plenary as those of a French 
 " procureur general," has failed to unearth any with 
 
432 
 
 Cljarleg Tkmu 
 
 which he might, had he so desired, have pandered 
 to the growing modern appetite for sensationalism. 
 This is my excuse for making allusion to the cir- 
 cumstances under which this biography has been 
 undertaken. Memoir, as far as the writer is con- 
 cerned, it is not. As regards some of the evidence 
 adduced, however, the element of personal recollec- 
 tion is not absent. Full opportunity has been afforded 
 to many who knew the man to speak for themselves, 
 besides which, ample means has been given to the 
 public to read for themselves between the lines of, 
 and to judge his character by, the artist's own 
 letters. 
 
 One word has to be said as to the scope of this 
 biography. Tempting as it has been throughout, 
 I have avoided, as much as possible, all criticism of 
 Keene's art. Much that was ill-digested has already 
 appeared, prompted by the adventitious fact of his 
 death. Much, I am convinced, of far greater value, 
 because prompted by the highest appreciation, will 
 appear in the future, as men realize more and more 
 what an irreparable gap his loss has made in the 
 ranks of contemporary effort. That tribute should 
 come from a far more competent quarter, and with 
 the deliberation due to the importance of the subject. 
 
 And now I propose to conclude by referring, 
 somewhat discursively, to certain fugitive matters 
 which have not in the course of this writing found 
 convenient incorporation in the consecutive narrative. 
 
 I have been at pains to discover, as far as possible, 
 the particulars of the books which Keene was called 
 
flDf 3jmgular QiLlorfe 
 
 433 
 
 upon from time to time to illustrate, and must con- 
 fess to disappointment at the numerical result. 
 
 Much work undoubtedly was done anonymously, 
 arid will come to be discovered as time goes on. 
 Therefore I must confess that a bibliography of his 
 work has yet to be compiled. Not that the list can 
 ever be expected to be a very long one, for, when 
 
 CARRIAGE HORSES. 
 
 we consider the enormous amount of work done for 
 "Punch," "Once a Week" and "The Illustrated 
 London News," there does not appear to have been 
 much time left for irregular productions. This is 
 borne out by a letter written to me by Mr. W. L. 
 Thomas, of " The Graphic." 
 
 " For the last forty years," he says, " my friendly 
 interviews with him generally wound up by my 
 begging him to make some drawings for different 
 publications with which I have been connected, and 
 
 F F 
 
434 
 
 Ctjarlea J&unt 
 
 at his own price ; he always agreed, but the drawings 
 were never (or hardly ever) executed. He always 
 wished, in a half-hearted way, to do other work than 
 drawings for ' Punch,' but the habit was too strong 
 for him in the end." 
 
 It has been asserted that Keene worked for the 
 Illustrated Annuals so much in vogue in the first 
 half of the century, but of this I have found no trace ; 
 and Mr. Joseph Cundall, author of the series of 
 articles on " The Annuals of Sixty Years Ago," 
 which appeared in " The Publishers' Circular," 
 supports the opinion that the assertion is erroneous. 
 " I have," he writes, " looked through more than two 
 hundred of ' The Annuals,' and am sure there is not 
 a drawing by Charles Keene in any one of them. In 
 fact they were ' over ' (except the last series of ' The 
 Keepsake') before Keene was known in London." 
 As instancing, however, the kind of fugitive and 
 unrecognized work which might reward the careful 
 search of prints contemporary with his early years, 
 the following letter, which appeared in " The 
 Times " immediately after Keene's death, is worth 
 reprinting. 
 
 " The late Charles Keene. 
 " To the Editor of ' The Times! 
 
 " Sir, 
 
 "Almanacs, such as 'Old Moore's,' 'Zadkiel's,' 
 etc., used to contain, and possibly still do, a wonderful 
 illustration or ' prophetic picture.' I have often heard 
 
435 
 
 it asked, ' Who on earth are the designers of them ? ' 
 I can answer the question as to one. Poor Charles 
 Keene was. 
 
 " One evening, upwards of forty years ago, I was 
 sitting with the late George Ingelow, brother of the 
 poetess, when in came Keene, and asked us to guess 
 what commission he had just received. It was to 
 design and draw on wood the ' prophetic picture ' of 
 one of the forthcoming almanacs. The great work 
 was tackled then and there. 
 
 "Never were three 'fates' so merry over their 
 dismal work as we. We wove the web, and Keene, 
 in the character of Atropos, duly did the ' cut.' 
 
 " What a design it was ! Death, as a skeleton, poised 
 his dart over a crowned hooded figure ; demons 
 hauled on ropes fixed to a church ; a stately throne- 
 seat tilted to its fall ; ships went down ; powder- 
 magazines went up ; all the whole thing. 
 
 " Was credit taken, I wonder, in the next year's 
 almanac, as the custom was, for the accuracy of the 
 predictions ? 
 
 "In your obituary notice you mention Keene's 
 drawings of Volunteer subjects in ' Punch.' Many of 
 these contain his own portrait and those of friends ; 
 notably of the late William Ingelow (another brother 
 of Miss Jean Ingelow), at whose funeral a few years 
 ago I last saw Charles Keene in health. 
 
 " Will you allow me to add that you touched a most 
 true note in your leader of to-day (Tuesday) when 
 you write that Charles Keene's ' honest, innocent, 
 and kindly gaiety humiliated nobody and wounded 
 
436 
 
 Cfjarles* l&eene 
 
 nobody/ and that he was ' irresistibly humorous and 
 never unmannerly.' 
 
 " I am, Sir, 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 "J. G. HOLLWAY. 
 
 " Westminster, Jan. 6." 
 
 Before passing from this subject, mention should 
 be made of " Round the Table ; Notes on Cookery 
 and Plain Recipes, with a Selection of Bills of Fare 
 for every Month," by " The G. C." ; Philadelphia, 
 J. B. Lippincott and Co. ; a book written by a friend 
 of Keene's, and containing sketches of "How to 
 Truss Fowls," and " How to Bone Fowls," and 
 " How to Cut Up Fowls," drawn by C. K., but 
 unsigned. They are but inconsiderable trifles, but 
 for completeness' sake, as far as possible, must be 
 put on the record. 1 
 
 A last word here as to a certain phase of Keene's 
 character. No mention has been made of the man's 
 pure-mindedness, without that affected niceness now- 
 a-days prevalent, which was so distinguishing a colour 
 of his personality. Easy as it was to make him 
 withdraw into himself, nothing was so certain to have 
 this effect as an indecent remark or an immodest 
 story. Far too retiring as he was to set himself up- 
 as a preacher of morals, or indeed of anything else, 
 he yet had that proper pride which makes its resent- 
 ment of coarseness felt, and, to quote one of those 
 
 1 Since going to press I learn from Mr. John Leighton, F.S.A.,. 
 that Keene drew "Luther on his way to Worms," for vol. i. of 
 " The Lyra Germanica." 
 
Character 
 
 437 
 
 beautiful " Punch " prefaces seldom, if ever, read, he 
 ever bore in mind that great truth of one of earth's 
 greatest spirits, that " indecency is sacrilege to the 
 majesty of human nature." 
 
 As another example of his proper pride, it may 
 be mentioned that, incapable of such a thing to 
 others, he would never brook an intentional slight 
 put upon himself. Of a brother brush he -once 
 wrote : — 
 
 " When this exalted party came near me, he made 
 me a pompous bow, I having too quickly and simul- 
 taneously held out my hand. He took it this time 
 but the next — a bow be it." 
 
 Again, was anyone at any time untruthful to him, 
 he would never trust, nor, indeed, where practicable, 
 have anything to do with that man again. He said 
 nothing, but quietly ignored his existence. 
 
 Keene never married, though not unsusceptible to 
 the charms of female society. " Her mother," he 
 wrote of a young lady, " was a playmate and juvenile 
 sweetheart of mine." And in later years there is 
 reason to suppose that thoughts of becoming a 
 Benedict did pass through his mind ; but of the 
 writing of What Might Have Been there would be 
 no end, and, as Nathaniel Hawthorne says in his tale 
 of " David Swan," " we hear not the airy footsteps 
 of things that almost happen." 
 
 A peculiarity of Keene's, which has not been 
 mentioned, was the great horror he had of shaking 
 hands all round in the morning. His friends, coming 
 to recognize this, honoured the custom in the 
 
438 
 
 Cljarle;3 beetle 
 
 "breach" when he was a guest. One friend, 
 however, there was with whom he was often, by 
 circumstances, compelled to breakfast, and who 
 for some reason or other perversely insisted upon 
 its observance. Keene was determined not to be 
 victimized, and, being at the same time desirous 
 of avoiding the appearance of rudeness, hit upon 
 the ingenious plan of coming down every morning 
 with both hands loaded with books, whereby the 
 practice became a physical impossibility. 
 
 Keene throughout his life had an inexhaustible 
 and boyish love of fun. 
 
 Companions at Cromer will remember, for example, 
 how he would take pieces of bread and paint them 
 to represent slices of the most appetizing plum-cake. 
 These he would place at intervals along the low 
 walls, and watch with glee the effect produced on the 
 varying degrees of cupidity of passing children. 
 
 Another example, perhaps not altogether convinc- 
 ing, but still worth recording, may be quoted from a 
 letter from Mr. Holman Hunt to me : — 
 
 " One incident of about ten years since amused 
 me. We both lived at Kensington, and had studios 
 at Chelsea. One morning I had reason for wishing 
 to arrive at work as quickly as possible, and I had 
 also a great disinclination at the time to talk about 
 my particular task in hand. When one-third on the 
 way to Chelsea, I saw Charles Keene walking very 
 statelily and slowly just in front of me. I deter- 
 mined to avoid overtaking him, and I took a short 
 cut and ran along an unfrequented lane to get well 
 
^Reputation 
 
 439 
 
 ahead of him, which seemed easy enough, but when 
 I got out into the Fulham Road, to my surprise, 
 there he was, marching solemnly before me at the 
 same distance ahead which he had been earlier in 
 the journey. 
 
 " It was evident to me that he had seen my attempt 
 to get in front, and that, by means of a Hansom, he 
 had outstript me, and for joke landed again where 
 he knew he would appear miraculously still taking 
 the lead. A few weeks later, after several walks 
 together to the point of parting, he for his, and I for 
 my studio, he came to see my work, which he greatly 
 encouraged me with by his interest ; but neither 
 then nor at any other time did the occasion arise to 
 inquire how he stole the march on me in the race 
 which was one as between the tortoise and the hare, 
 in which the first beat." 
 
 I cannot, however, deny that there is some sus- 
 picion in my mind that the true solution of the 
 mystery may have been that Mr. Hunt's "short 
 cut " was a deceptive one. 
 
 A few words must here be said of the estimate in 
 which Keene was held by his contemporaries. 
 That Mr. Tenniel expresses the general feeling of 
 those who were brought into contact with him will 
 not be contradicted. 
 
 "His death," he writes to me, "was a real sor- 
 row, not only to his colleagues, but to all who knew 
 him, and his loss to ' Punch,' as I need hardly say, 
 irreparable." 
 
 And the tribute paid to his memory by Sir F. 
 
440 
 
 Cljacles beetle 
 
 Leighton at the Royal Academy Banquet, 189 1 , 
 should not be forgotten : — 
 
 " Every phase of artistic energy," he said, " must 
 be watched with interest from within these walls, 
 and the death of every true worker who has left 
 his mark on any of its branches must awaken regret 
 among us. It is not possible for me to follow one by 
 one these too frequent losses ; nevertheless, a loss will 
 from time to time be sustained by the nation which 
 I cannot pass by in silence ; and such a loss has 
 recently befallen us through the death of that de- 
 lightful artist and unsurpassed student of character, 
 Charles Keene. Never have the humours of the 
 life of certain classes of Englishmen been seized 
 with such unerring grasp as in his works ; never 
 have they been arrested with a more masterly, 
 artistic skill. Among the documents for the study 
 of future days of middle-class and of humble English 
 life, none will be more weighty than the vivid 
 sketches of this great humourist." 
 
 But what can we say of the appreciation shown 
 for his work by the public for whom he laboured 
 incessantly for thirty years ? A popular evening 
 newspaper found it necessary to commence an article 
 on "A Great but Unknown Artist" with these 
 words : " Some few weeks ago a man named Charles 
 Keene died in Hammersmith." And those words 
 measure the fame which is, in this country, accorded 
 by the masses to the man of whom " Punch," with 
 pardonable pride, but in terms which the above fact 
 proves to have been hyperbolical, spoke as "the 
 
Public £Dpmfort 
 
 441 
 
 inimitable Charles Keene, universally acknowledged 
 to j[be the greatest master of ' Black and White' 
 technique who ever put pencil to wood-block ! " 
 
 A DOZE. 
 
 As a matter of fact, this acknowledgment, far from 
 being universal, came only from a very limited section 
 of the community. 
 
442 
 
 Cljarles Recite 
 
 To the public his work was so "easy" and so 
 «' coarse," that there seemed to them nothing won- 
 derful in it at all. It would have astonished them, 
 and does indeed now astonish them, to be told that 
 there is not, nor indeed has been, according to the 
 opinion of some competent to judge, since the days 
 of the elder Holbein, another who could give us 
 work equal in delicacy to that of Charles Keene. 
 The fact is, that we are so overwhelmed with im- 
 mature work which bears the blatant impress of 
 effort on its face, that we are in danger of forgetting 
 that the greatest art conceals itself. 
 
 But, after all, how can we blame the public when, 
 after having such a man amongst us for all these 
 years, those who profess to catalogue eminent men 
 and women of the time ignore the existence of the 
 greatest of all our black-and-white artists ? 
 
 It will hardly be credited, but a glance will prove 
 that Keene's name does not appear in the list of Mr. 
 Humphrey Ward's contemporaries. 
 
 But even worse than this has to be said. Mr. 
 Ruskin, who for so long spoke as the oracle o( 
 English Art, did not find that Keene was worthy 
 even to be mentioned, when he took upon himself to 
 discuss the " Punch " artists ! 
 
 On the other hand, what do we find when we cross 
 the Channel ? A chorus of unstinted praise. 
 
 In " L'Artiste " Bracquemond pays a splendid 
 tribute to him as a landscape artist. " La Chronique 
 des Arts " compares him with Menzel and Degas, 
 and " Art Moderne " with Degas and Pizarro. True, 
 
if occigru Cptmon 
 
 443 
 
 a chorus of praise also rose from the better class of 
 English journals after Keene's death, but France 
 had discovered and written about him years before 
 his countrymen even asked who " C. K." was. 
 
 Had Keene ever looked for posthumous renown, 
 which he certainly never did, he would, I am per- 
 suaded, like Francis Bacon, have bequeathed his 
 soul to God, his body to the earth, and his fame to 
 foreign nations. 
 
 Keene's was a plain, unvarnished life, and in these 
 pages it has been the endeavour to tell a plain, un- 
 varnished tale in keeping therewith. The keynotes 
 to his character seem to have been his unaffected 
 love of all that was true, and honest, and pure, as 
 he saw it, combined with what Mr. George Meredith, 
 in writing to me of him, has aptly called " his trans- 
 parent frankness." Reserved in the matter of con- 
 versation he was, as we have seen, but from those 
 who really knew that 
 
 " Curl-crowned head, the knitting 
 Of supple hands behind it as he sat, 
 The quaint face-wrinkling smile like sunshine flitting, 
 * The droll, dry comment " 
 
 there was not much concealed or disguised. 
 
 " Each thought was visible that rolled within, 
 As through a case the figured hours are seen : 
 And heaven did this transparent veil provide, 
 Because he had no evil thought to hide." 
 
 THE END. 
 
APPENDICES. 
 
 APPENDIX A. 
 
 Tales, Poems, etc., Illustrated by C. K. in 
 " Once a Week." 
 
 GOOD Fight. Charles Reade, Serial. 
 Guests at the Red Lion. 
 A Fatal Gift. G. U. S. 
 Uncle Simpkinson and Mrs. Mount Ele- 
 phant. 
 
 The Gentleman in the Plum-coloured Coat. 
 Langton Wold. 
 
 Benjamin Harris and his Wife Patience. By H. K. 
 The Foundation of my Picture Gallery. 
 A Merry Xmas. 
 
 Mr. Lorquison's Story. F. C. Bumand. 
 Where is the Other ? Stewart Harrison. 
 The Return of the Firefly. Poem by A. M. 
 A Night on the Ice. Andrew Mitchel. 
 Evan Harrington. G. Meredith. Serial. 
 Volunteer Day in 1803. 
 
 The Emigrant Artist. A. Stewart Harrison. 
 
 Sam Bentley's Christmas. 
 
 The Mazed Fiddler. Bridges Adams. 
 
 In Re Mr. Bubb. /. Speight. 
 
 The Beggars' Soliloquy. Poem by G. Meredith. 
 
446 
 
 &ppcntur & 
 
 Mundic and Barytes. 
 A Model Strike. Dutton Cook. 
 Two Norse Kings. Poem by Walter Thombury. 
 The Revenue Officer's Story. /. Hanvood. 
 The Painter Alchemist. Dutton Cook. 
 Business with Bokes. Duttoji Cook. 
 Adalieta. Poem by Edwin Arnold. 
 Lilian's Perplexities. Dubourg. Serial. 
 The Patriot Engineer. Poem by G. Meredith. 
 The Woman I loved, and the Woman who loved Me. 
 Serial. 
 
 My Schoolfellow Friend. 
 
 Legend of Carlisle : the Scottish Gate. Poem by M. E. C. 
 Walcott. 
 
 A Page from the History of Kleinundengreich. 
 
 Miss Daimon. C. E. Bockus. 
 
 A Mysterious Supper Party. 
 
 Verner's Pride. Mrs. H. Wood. Serial. 
 
 The March of Arthur. Poem by Tom Taylor. 
 
 The Bay of the Dead. Poem by M. G. W. 
 
 My Brother's Story. 
 
 The Viking's Serf. Poem by Walter Thombury. 
 The Heirloom. Serial. 
 
 The Old Shepherd on His Pipe. Poem by F. C. Bumand. 
 
 APPENDIX B. 
 
 List of Translations by Charles Keene of First 
 Thoughts and Original Sketches by Joseph 
 Crawhall, with Dates of their Appearance 
 in the Pages of " Punch." 
 
 September 6, 1873. A Narrow Escape. 
 
 December 16, 1876. Happy Thought. 
 
 August 4, 1877. Not Proven. 
 
 September 8, „ Wet and Dry. 
 
Append \x T£> 
 
 447 
 
 September 1 5 , 
 
 1877 
 
 » 
 
 22, 
 
 
 October 
 
 6, 
 
 
 November 
 
 3. 
 
 
 >> 
 
 10, 
 
 
 » 
 
 10, 
 
 
 >> 
 
 17, 
 
 
 December 
 
 15, 
 
 >> 
 
 >) 
 
 29. 
 
 
 February 
 
 9, 1878. 
 
 11 
 
 23, 
 
 
 June 
 
 15, 
 
 
 
 29, 
 
 
 fitly 
 
 6, 
 
 » 
 
 
 13, 
 
 
 » 
 
 20, 
 
 ,» 
 
 A ugust 
 
 10, 
 
 
 September 
 
 7, 
 
 
 », 
 
 21, 
 
 
 November 30, 
 
 
 J? 
 
 30, 
 
 ,1 
 
 Almanack, 
 
 1879. 
 
 March 
 
 15, 
 
 
 April 
 
 5, 
 
 
 J une 
 
 21, 
 
 
 A ugust 
 
 16, 
 
 
 November 
 
 8, 
 
 ,1 
 
 December 
 
 6, 
 
 
 
 13, 
 
 
 » 
 
 20, 
 
 
 >) 
 
 27, 
 
 
 A Imanack, 
 
 I880. 
 
 January, 
 
 10, 
 
 w 
 
 >> 
 
 17, 
 
 >» 
 
 >> 
 
 24, 
 
 
 February 
 
 21, 
 
 
 Rural Simplicity. 
 
 Sacrifice. 
 
 Never say Die. 
 
 Plain to Demonstration. 
 
 A Modern Athenian. 
 
 Strange effect of Sea-Air. 
 
 Science in Sport made Refreshment 
 
 in Earnest. 
 At the Aquarium. 
 Hard Times. 
 An Untimely Expose*. 
 Microscopy of the Million. 
 Titles to Distinction. 
 Second Thoughts. 
 Safe. 
 
 Put to the Rout. 
 Zeal. 
 
 Warranted. 
 
 An Uncanny Order. 
 
 Revenge ! 
 
 The Hard-headed Breed. 
 Literal. 
 
 The Commissariat. 
 Shouther to Shouther. 
 Obvious. 
 Reassuring. 
 Desecration ! 
 Volumes ! 
 Cutting ! 
 
 At the Cattle Show. 
 
 Inopportune. 
 
 The Commissariat. 
 
 Comminatory. 
 
 Judging by Appearances. 
 
 The Weather and the Crops. 
 
 Support. 
 
 Lex Talionis. 
 
448 
 
 append* B 
 
 February 28, 
 
 1880. 
 
 
 28, 
 
 „ 
 
 March 
 
 6, 
 
 ,, 
 
 ,, 
 
 13, 
 
 ,, 
 
 i) 
 
 I3> 
 
 ,, 
 
 April 
 
 17, 
 
 
 » 
 
 24, 
 
 ,, 
 
 May 
 
 i, 
 
 ,, 
 
 )> 
 
 8, 
 
 ,, 
 
 ,, 
 
 22, 
 
 ,, 
 
 » 
 
 29, 
 
 „ 
 
 »> 
 
 29, 
 
 ,, 
 
 June 
 
 5, 
 
 ,, 
 
 ,» 
 
 12, 
 
 ,, 
 
 ,, 
 
 19, 
 
 ,, 
 
 ,, 
 
 26, 
 
 ,, 
 
 » 
 
 26, 
 
 >, 
 
 July 
 
 3, 
 
 ,, 
 
 ,» 
 
 17, 
 
 V 
 
 >» 
 
 3i> 
 
 ,, 
 
 A ugust 
 
 7, 
 
 ,, 
 
 }> 
 
 14, 
 
 ,, 
 
 ,, 
 
 21, 
 
 ,, 
 
 » 
 
 21, 
 
 „ 
 
 September 
 
 4, 
 
 
 ,» 
 
 25, 
 
 
 >, 
 
 25, 
 
 
 October 
 
 2, 
 
 
 >> 
 
 16, 
 
 » 
 
 ,, 
 
 16, 
 
 ,, 
 
 
 30, 
 
 ,, 
 
 November 20, 
 
 ,, 
 
 ,, 
 
 20, 
 
 ,, 
 
 December 
 
 ii, 
 
 l880. 
 
 >> 
 
 18, 
 
 ,, 
 
 Almanack, 1881. 
 
 The Unseen World. 
 A Predestinate R.A. 
 In vino Veritas. 
 Local Option. 
 Flattery. 
 Reaction. 
 Res Angusta?. 
 
 Save me from my Friends ! 
 Standing no Nonsense. 
 Triumph. 
 
 (No title), page 242. 
 
 Rather too much of a Treasure. 
 
 Flattery. 
 
 A Practical Application. 
 
 Complimentary. 
 
 Live while you may. 
 
 Thirsty Souls. 
 
 An awful Crammer. 
 
 A Little Jesuit. 
 
 Nemesis. 
 
 Conclusive ! 
 
 Experimental Philosophy. 
 
 A Collision. 
 
 Repudiation. 
 
 (No title). 
 
 Winged. 
 
 A Qualified Judge. 
 The Gentle Craft. 
 A Regular Tarter. 
 Disturbance ! 
 
 Non Ben {Lomond) Trovato. 
 Accidents will Happen. 
 A thorough Unbeliever. 
 Uncompromising. 
 Business. 
 
 Most Unfortunate. 
 Tableau Vivafit. 
 
449 
 
 Almanack, 
 
 1881. 
 
 The Last Resource. 
 
 » 
 
 
 
 Culture, 1 88 1. 
 
 >> 
 
 
 » 
 
 De Minimis. 
 
 February 26, 
 
 yy 
 
 A 1 estamentary Disposition. 
 
 
 26, 
 
 yy 
 
 Badinage. 
 
 March 
 
 12, 
 
 yy 
 
 A Note and Query. 
 
 April 
 
 2, 
 
 yy 
 
 Si non e vero, etc. 
 
 j> 
 
 9, 
 
 yy 
 
 Popular Fallacies. 
 
 May 
 
 21, 
 
 yy 
 
 Optics. 
 
 June 
 
 18, 
 
 yy 
 
 T T 
 
 Harmony. 
 
 >» 
 
 25. 
 
 yy 
 
 A Blank Day. 
 
 July 
 
 16, 
 
 yy 
 
 Ground Game. 
 
 yy 
 
 30, 
 
 yy 
 
 The Anti-Semitic Movement 
 
 August 
 
 20, 
 
 yy 
 
 Denudation. 
 
 yy 
 
 27, 
 
 yy 
 
 Plethora. 
 
 September 
 
 10, 
 
 yy 
 
 Walton s Complete Bungler. 
 
 October 
 
 1, 
 
 yy 
 
 Contumacious. 
 
 yy 
 
 8, 
 
 yy 
 
 A Dilemma. 
 
 yy 
 
 15, 
 
 yy 
 
 Another Chance Gone ! 
 
 February 
 
 25, 
 
 l882. 
 
 Solicitude. 
 
 March 
 
 ii, 
 
 yy 
 
 Lapsus Linguce. 
 
 May 
 
 6, 
 
 yy 
 
 Shocking ! 
 
 July 
 
 8, 
 
 yy 
 
 Opposition. 
 
 August 
 
 12, 
 
 yy 
 
 A Cloture. 
 
 yy 
 
 19, 
 
 yy 
 
 The Scot Abroad. 
 
 September, 
 
 yy 
 
 T , • 1 1 
 
 Irresistible. 
 
 yy 
 
 30, 
 
 yy 
 
 Cantankerous. 
 
 October 
 
 7, 
 
 yy 
 
 By Proxy. 
 
 yy 
 
 21, 
 
 yy 
 
 Disenchantment. 
 
 yy 
 
 28, 
 
 yy 
 
 Coals ! 
 
 November 
 
 4, 
 
 yy 
 
 Against the Grain. 
 
 yy 
 
 4, 
 
 yy 
 
 Rallying. 
 
 December 
 
 2, 
 
 yy 
 
 (No title), page 257. 
 
 January 
 
 6, 1883. 
 
 Perdu, 
 
 yy 
 
 20, 
 
 yy 
 
 Art Intelligence. 
 
 yy 
 
 V, 
 
 yy 
 
 Literal. 
 
 February 
 
 10, 
 
 yy 
 
 For Example. 
 
 G G 
 
450 
 
 ^[ppenlitj; B 
 
 February 
 
 17. 
 
 1883. 
 
 The Commentators. 
 
 >> 
 
 17, 
 
 ,» 
 
 Shades, Various. 
 
 March 
 
 3. 
 
 
 Ambiguous. 
 
 >» 
 
 10, 
 
 
 Beware ! 
 
 » 
 
 10, 
 
 » 
 
 Enjant Terrible. 
 
 >» 
 
 17, 
 
 >» 
 
 (No title), page 122. 
 
 )> 
 
 24, 
 
 M 
 
 A Promising Son-in-Law. 
 
 >> 
 
 24, 
 
 >J 
 
 It's an 111 Wind, etc. 
 
 April 
 
 7. 
 
 >> 
 
 Gratifying. 
 
 May 
 
 19, 
 
 » 
 
 Conscience. 
 
 *i 
 
 26, 
 
 » 
 
 Exacerbation. 
 
 >> 
 
 26, 
 
 
 Sophistical. 
 
 June 
 
 2, 
 
 » 
 
 Detraction. 
 
 July 
 
 14, 
 
 >» 
 
 Nem. Con. 
 
 >> 
 
 21, 
 
 >> 
 
 Courage ! 
 
 >> 
 
 28, 
 
 » 
 
 Lucid. 
 
 ^ ugust 
 
 4- 
 
 J' 
 
 Popular Fallacies. 
 
 )) 
 
 ii, 
 
 » 
 
 Assuring ! 
 
 >» 
 
 18, 
 
 >» 
 
 Incorrigible. 
 
 >) 
 
 18, 
 
 >> 
 
 For Example. 
 
 November 
 
 3, 
 
 >» 
 
 Detected ! 
 
 >> 
 
 3, 
 
 >> 
 
 Consolation. 
 
 »> 
 
 17, 
 
 »» 
 
 Safe bind, safe find ! 
 
 > > 
 
 17, 
 
 »» 
 
 (No title), page 239. 
 
 >» 
 
 24. 
 
 >> 
 
 Poor Sweepar, Sir ! 
 
 December 
 
 1, 
 
 ,» 
 
 Upon the Mart. 
 
 January 
 
 12, 
 
 I884. 
 
 (No title), page 23. 
 
 February 
 
 2, 
 
 »> 
 
 A ready-made Rejoinder. 
 
 >» 
 
 9, 
 
 » 
 
 A Realist. 
 
 » 
 
 16, 
 
 If 
 
 Ve7'b. Sap. 
 
 May 
 
 24, 
 
 >> 
 
 A Veteran ! 
 
 December, 
 
 
 >) 
 
 The Fitness of Things. 
 
 >> 
 
 20, 
 
 >J 
 
 Places aux Dames ! 
 
 February 
 
 28, 1885. 
 
 Backsliding. 
 
 July 
 
 17, 1886. 
 
 Sarcastic Old Thing ! 
 
 >> 
 
 3i, 
 
 >) 
 
 Capacity ! 
 
 A ugust 
 
 I4> 
 
 >» 
 
 The Bills of Mortality. 
 
&pperttiu; B 
 
 45i 
 
 October 
 
 2, 
 
 1886. 
 
 », 
 
 16, 
 
 >, 
 
 
 23, 
 
 
 November 20, 
 
 
 December 
 
 25, 
 
 
 January 
 
 15, 1887. 
 
 February 
 
 19, 
 
 » 
 
 March 
 
 5, 
 
 
 April 
 
 2 
 
 
 >> 
 
 9. 
 
 
 
 23. 
 
 
 May 
 
 7 
 
 
 >> 
 
 
 » 
 
 
 ■? I 
 
 
 Ju ne 
 
 /I 
 
 4> 
 
 
 
 II, 
 
 ,) 
 
 Tulv 
 
 16, 
 
 ,» 
 
 A ugust 
 
 13. 
 
 >, 
 
 >, 
 
 27, 
 
 ,, 
 
 .September 
 
 3, 
 
 ,, 
 
 )> 
 
 24, 
 
 
 October 
 
 I, 
 
 
 >> 
 
 8, 
 15, 
 
 
 November 
 
 5, 
 
 
 December 
 
 3, 
 
 >> 
 
 
 17, 
 
 
 Almanack, 
 
 1888. 
 », 
 
 » 
 
 January 
 
 28, 
 
 >, 
 ,, 
 
 March 
 
 3i, 
 
 ,, 
 
 April 
 
 21, 
 
 ,, 
 
 May 
 
 19, 
 
 ,, 
 
 June 
 
 23, 
 
 ,, 
 
 July 
 
 21, 
 
 
 The Bar-rd of A-y-von. 
 
 The Canine Scare. 
 
 Surplusage. 
 
 A midlan' joke — very. 
 
 Shopping ! 
 
 Taking Stock. 
 
 Wholesale. 
 
 The Penny Toys. 
 
 For the Third Time of Asking. 
 
 The News. 
 
 Rural Felicity. 
 
 Making a Clean Breast of it. 
 
 The Amateurs. 
 
 Landed. 
 
 The Force of Habit. 
 
 To be Quite Accurate. 
 
 The Provincials. 
 
 Anthropophagous. 
 
 In the Cause of Art. 
 
 A Reminiscence of the Very Dry 
 
 Weather. 
 The State of the Game. 
 Sagacity. 
 Ichabod ! 
 Unco Guid ! 
 
 Likely to get on in Life. 
 Sables. 
 
 A Festive Prospect. 
 A Protest. 
 Great Expectations. 
 The Ubiquitous. 
 
 Lapsus Lingucz. 
 Brass. 
 
 Two Views of It. 
 
 Oh, tax 'em, by all means ! 
 
 Might be Worse! 
 
 In Case of Accidents ! 
 
452 
 
 •appen&u; 25 
 
 August 
 
 4, 1 
 
 888. 
 
 Sharp's the Word ! 
 
 ,, 
 
 25, 
 
 „ 
 
 De Gustibus, etc. 
 
 September 22, 
 
 ,» 
 
 Pursuit of Knowledge. 
 
 October 
 
 
 ,, 
 
 Realistic. 
 
 November 
 
 3, 
 
 ,, 
 
 That Nasty Orange Peel. 
 
 December 
 
 8, 
 
 j, 
 
 An Open Secret. 
 
 January 
 
 26, 1889. 
 
 Undaunted. 
 
 February 
 
 9, 
 
 
 Shoppy. 
 
 March 
 
 2, 
 
 
 The Fourth Estate. 
 
 >, 
 
 23, 
 
 
 The Coming Exhibition. 
 
 May 
 
 1 1, 
 
 
 Proportions. 
 
 Jtme 
 
 22, 
 
 „ 
 
 Compliments. 
 
 September 
 
 7, 
 
 ,, 
 
 Mems. for the Moors. 
 
 » 
 
 21, 
 
 ,, 
 
 Mems. for the Moors. 
 
 
 28, 
 
 ,, 
 
 Irresistible. 
 
 October 
 
 12, 
 
 
 Ground Game. 
 
 November 
 
 2, 
 
 
 Deceivers Ever. 
 
 
 16, 
 
 „ 
 
 A Clean Breast of it. 
 
 » 
 
 23, 
 
 
 Is it a Failure ? 
 
 » 
 
 23, 
 
 
 Exclusive. 
 
 December 
 
 7, 
 
 
 Every Excuse. 
 
 >» 
 
 14, 
 
 
 A Financial Crisis. 
 
 >, 
 
 21, 
 
 >, 
 
 Liter a Scripta. 
 
 January 
 
 11, 
 
 1890. 
 
 Tangible. 
 
 >» 
 
 25, 
 
 
 Treatment. 
 
 February 
 
 22, 
 
 „ 
 
 In Kind. 
 
 March 
 
 15, 
 
 
 Appreciative. 
 
 April 
 
 5, 
 
 ,, 
 
 At the " Zoo." 
 
 APPENDIX C. 
 
 From the "Journal of the Society of Arts" March 27, 1885, 
 pp. 498-9. Dr. A. J. Ellis's Lecture " On the Musical 
 Scales of various Nations." 
 
 " (2) The Highland Bagpipe. It will seem strange to intro- 
 duce this instrument among the Arabian ; but the bagpipe 
 is found sculptured at Nineveh. It was possibly brought 
 
&ppettDu; C 
 
 453 
 
 to Europe during the Crusades, long after the deaths of 
 Zalzal and Al Farabi, but before the introduction of the 
 Arabic scale of seventeen (or nineteen) notes to the octave- 
 And it seems to have had that Zalzal scale already noted, 
 viz. : — 
 
 I 204 II 155 III 143 IV 204 V 151 VI 143 VII 204 VIII 
 o 204 355 498 702 853 996 1200, 
 
 of which the tempered representative is the principal scale 
 of Meshagah just discussed. Of course, there must have 
 been some alterations, but this Damascus scale of Me- 
 shagah would represent the scale sufficiently well for all 
 purposes. The Highland bagpipe has at present only 
 nine notes, written g a' b' c" d" e" f " g" a" (g being on the 
 second line of the treble staff), and also two drones, or deep 
 notes, which are always sounding (being the first and 
 second octave below a', that is, on the top line and bottom 
 space of the bass staff). Now it is generally said that g' to 
 a' is not quite a tone, and that c" f " are not exactly c" and f " or 
 c" sharp and f " sharp of the ordinary rotation, but in each 
 case some intermediate sound, the consequence being that 
 the bagpipe cannot play with any other instrument in a 
 band, and two or more bagpipes can only play in unison. 
 The instrument is a kind of oboe, played with a bellows 
 instead of the mouth. To determine what this scale really 
 was, Mr. C. Keene, the well-known artist of ' Punch,' who 
 is a performer on the bagpipes, kindly brought his instru- 
 ment to my house and played through the scale, while Mr. 
 Hipkins determined the pitch by my forks. The follow- 
 ing was the result : — 
 
 Observed Scale of the Bagpipe. 
 
 Obs. vib. 395 441 494 537 587. 
 Notes g 191 a' 197 b' 144 c" 154 d" 208. 
 Cents o 197 341 495. 
 
 Obs. vib. 662 722 790 882. 
 Notes e" 150 f" 156 g" 191 a". 
 Cents 703 853 1009 1200. 
 
454 
 
 appentur C 
 
 " The first line gives the number of vibrations, the second 
 line gives the name of the note and the interval in cents 
 between them, the third line gives the intervals in cents 
 from the lowest a', omitting the low g', which is repeated in 
 the octave as g". 
 
 "This scale took us (A. J. Ellis, and A. J. Hipkins) by 
 surprise, and we immediately wrote to Mr. Glen, the great 
 bagpipe seller, to make inquiry. He informed us that the 
 scale, as regards intervals, has never been altered. ' If 
 the chanter [the oboe played on] you had is one of 
 McDonald's [it was so] or our own, it was no doubt correct. 
 Our opinion is that if a chanter was made perfect in any 
 one scale it would not go well with the drones. . Also there 
 could not be nearly so much music produced (if you take 
 into consideration that it has only nine invariable notes), as 
 at present it adapts itself to the keys of A [major], D [major], 
 B minor, G major, E minor, and A minor. Of course we do 
 not mean that it has all the intervals necessary to form 
 scales in all those keys, but that we find it playing tunes in 
 one or other of them.' 
 
 " Now the equal temperament of the scale just deduced 
 would be clearly o, 200, 350, 500, 700, 850, 1100, 1200, or 
 precisely the normal Damascus lute scale just considered. 
 For comparison, I determined the number of vibrations in 
 such a scale, and also for Zalzal's, taking the same a', with 
 this result : — 
 
 Notes a' b' c" d" e" f" g" a". 
 
 Obs. vib. ) o 00 
 
 (C. Keene's) j 441 494 537 587 6 722 790 882> 
 Damascus vib. 441 495 540 587 661 721 786 882. 
 Zalzal's vib. 441 496 541 587 661 722 783 882. 
 
 "Mr. Keene's chanter was not perfect (none is), and the 
 blowing (which was difficult, as the wind had to be got up 
 in the bag for each separate note) could not be absolutely 
 relied upon. Clearly c" was a little flat, and g" a little 
 sharp, the latter designedly, because the custom is to make 
 
appendix C 
 
 455 
 
 the interval g" a." less than 8 : 9, or a whole tone, which is 
 an accommodation to the major scale of A, and is evidently 
 a modernism " 
 
 The rest does not concern C. Keene ; but there is another 
 reference to this trial of the bagpipe scale in the Proceed- 
 ings of the Royal Society, No. 234, 1884, " Tonometrical 
 Observations on some existing Non-Harmonic Musical 
 Scales," by Alexander J. Ellis, B.A., F.R.S., assisted by 
 Alfred J. Hipkins. It is this : — 
 
 " Now between Zalzal's time and this mediaeval altera- 
 tion, the Crusaders brought the Syrian bagpipe to Eng- 
 land, and, after it had passed out of fashion in England, 
 it became the national instrument of the Highlands of 
 Scotland. 
 
 " Such an instrument, made by Macdonald of Edinburgh, 
 and obligingly lent us by Mr. Charles Keene, the well- 
 known artist," etc.. etc. 
 
BECKETT, Arthur, 
 S^raj A Beckett, Gilbert, 
 
 Academy, see under " Royal Aca- 
 demy." 
 
 ''Academy Election, The," Bal- 
 lad, 248. 
 
 Agnew, William, 74. 
 
 Almanac Dinner, 73. 
 
 Anatomical Infant, The, 313. 
 
 Anti- Restoration Society, The, 
 260, 278, 300. 
 
 Arber, Edward, 280. 
 
 Artists' Society, The, 34-36, 60. 
 
 Arts Club, The, 80, 81. 
 
 Bach Society, The, 68. 
 Bagpipes, The, 120-136, 147, 149 
 et seq.; Dr. Ellis on, 452-455. 
 Bagpipe Contest, The, 257. 
 Bain, J., 84. 
 
 Baker Street Studio, 79. 
 Balzac. 171. 
 
 Barnes, T., 364, 415 n., 422 
 Beraldi, 106. 
 
 Bewick, 186, 215, 230, 265, 325, 
 401. 
 
 Blake, William, 401. 
 Bouillabaisse, 86, 416. 
 Bracquemond, 106, 442. 
 Bradbury, Mr., 74. 
 British Artists, The Royal Society 
 
 of, 377- 
 Brooks, Shirley, 45, 75. 
 "Brother Jacob," 87. 
 Buncle, Mr., 144. 
 Burnand, F. C, 63, 74, 89. 
 
 Calderon, Mr., R.A., 36. 
 "Cambridge Grisette, The," 77. 
 Cartoon, Political, 48, 50. 
 Catch Glee and Canon Club, 
 The, 68. 
 
458 
 
 Uns- 
 
 eats, War against, 61. 
 
 Cattermole, Charles, 35, 37 n. 
 
 "Caudle Lectures, The," 102-104. 
 
 Cervantes, 171. 
 
 Charpentier, 306. 
 
 Chelsea Studios, 145, 287, 299, 
 
 407. 
 Chess, 225. 
 
 "Chestnuts," 189, 203. 
 Chodowiecki, 154, 155, 215, 231, 
 
 298, 319. 
 Christmas Carols, 101. 
 "Chronique des Arts, La," 115, 
 
 442. 
 
 Clayton, John, 35, 61, 367 et seq. 
 Clipstone Street Studio, 60. 
 " Cloister and the Hearth, The," 
 64. 
 
 Cobden, The Misses, 308. 
 Cooper, Alfred, 70, 138, 262, 264, 
 359- 
 
 Coquet, The, 149. 
 
 Corbould, Alfred, 3. 
 
 Corbould, Henry, 3. 
 
 "Cornhill Magazine, The," 87. 
 
 Cowell, Professor, his description 
 of Keene, 6. 
 
 Crawhall, Joseph, 30, 42, 91, 92, 
 129, 154, 184, 192-203, 260, 
 267; list of his sketches utilized 
 by Keene in ;< Punch," 446- 
 452, also see under " Letters." 
 
 Cruikshank, 171, 205. 
 
 Cundall, H. M., 106. 
 
 Cundall, J., 434. 
 
 "Daily Graphic, The," 410, 411, 
 412. 
 
 Dalziel, The Brothers, 35. 
 Deane, W. W., 36. 
 
 Degas, 442. 
 
 Dobson, Austin, 415 n. 
 Doyle, Richard, 44. 
 Dry Point, 36. 
 
 Dudley, Robert, 29, 160, 173,. 
 
 174, 175, 182-184, 287, 428. 
 Dulcken, Dr., 25, 54, 55, 56. 
 Du Maurier, George, 52, 74, 8i r 
 
 82, 1 19 n. 
 Duncan, E., 36. 
 
 Dunwich, 94, 232, 256, 257, 273, 
 422. 
 
 Edgar, J. G., 77- 
 
 Edwards, Edwin, 89, 93, 94, 
 
 173, 182, 211, also see under 
 
 " Letters." 
 Edwards, Mrs., 37, 76, 93, 94, 
 
 101, 107, 113, 114, 179, 315, 
 422, also see under "Letters." 
 
 Eliot, George, 87, 198. 
 Ellis, Dr., 132, 133, 452 et seq. 
 " Englishmen in Brittany," 49, 59. 
 Etching, 37, 38, 106, 107. 
 " Evan Harrington," 64. 
 "Eyebright," 77. 
 Facsimile Letter, 97-100. 
 Fantin, 344, 345. 
 Felixstowe, 348, 351, 391. 
 Fine Art Society, The, 169. 
 Fitzgerald, Edward, 21, 93, 172,. 
 t8o, 258, 265, 304, 316, 318, 
 
 3 26 > 3 2 7, 334, 34i, 422. 
 Foster, Birket, 68, 70, 90, 96, 
 
 102, 124, 151, 154, 159m, 172, 
 229, 236, 239, 279, 346, 413. 
 
 Franco- Prussian War, 42. 
 Furniss, Harry, 74. 
 
 Garrod, Sir Alfred, 22, 109, 413. 
 
Unties 
 
 459 
 
 "German Songs, The Book of," 
 
 2 5, 54- 
 Gillies, 77. 
 Gillray, 171. 
 "Good Fight, A," 64. 
 Golf, 349, 351, 352, 412. 
 "Graveur du XIX e Siecle," 38. 
 Green, Charles, 64 
 Guthrie, Mr., 75, 271. 
 
 Haag, Carl, 35. 
 
 Handel Festival, 22. 
 
 Hardy, Heywood, 285. 
 
 Harral, H., 352, 404, 406, 408, 
 
 411, 412. 
 Haydon, B. R., 343. 
 Haydon, G. H., 244, 247, 290, 
 
 33 6 , 349> 3 6 i- 
 Heming, Joseph, 66, 67 n.,68, 422. 
 Hengeler, 393. 
 
 Heseltine, J. P., 30, 56, 117, 136, 
 i47> 22 °> 33 6 , 4°i, 4*8 n., 422. 
 Hipkins, A. J., 133, 215,382, 397. 
 Hogarth, 343. 
 Holbein, 343. 
 
 Hollway, J. G., his letter on 
 
 Keene, 434 et seq. 
 Hook, James, R.A., 208. 
 Horsley, Charles, 67. 
 " How, When, and Where," 89. 
 Hunt, Holman, 24, 421, 422, 
 
 423, 424, 43 8 > 439- 
 
 "Illustrated London News, The," 
 
 *9, 2 °, 33, 34, 54- 
 Illustrations, 54, 55, 432. 
 Ingelow, George, 15, 331. 
 Ingelow, Miss Jean, 15 • her 
 
 notes on Keene, 329 et seq. 
 Interviewers, Hatred of, 39. 
 
 Ipswich, 2, 5, 6, 163, 392, 425. 
 Italian Exhibition, 389. 
 
 Jenkins, J. J., 36. 
 
 "Jermyn Band," The, 35, 64, 65. 
 
 Jerrold, Douglas, 45, 47 n., 102. 
 
 "Jest Book," 89. 
 
 Jewett, Llewellyn, 29. 
 
 Keene, Charles. Birth, 1 ;. 
 parentage, 1, 2 ; school days, 
 3-8; first sale of drawings, 10 : 
 apprenticed to Messrs. Whym- 
 per, 1 1 ; Strand Studio, 16, 60 ; 
 works for "Illustrated London 
 News," 19, 20, 34, 54; jour- 
 nalistic work, 34 j artistic 
 training, 34 ; member o'f Artists' 
 Society, 34; etchings, 37, 3 8 r 
 106, 107 ; connection with 
 "Punch," .*■<?<? "Punch"; greatest 
 English master of Black and 
 White, 52, 169; leaves Strand 
 Studio for Clipstone Street, 60 ; 
 illustrates for " Once a Week,' 7 
 63 ; the musical societies he 
 joined, 65-68; as volunteer, 
 70, 71 ; Baker Street Studio, 
 79 ; as letter writer, 91 et seq. ; 
 his methods, 114-118, 128, 
 143, 144, 145 ; drawing direct 
 on wood, 140 ; effects of repro- 
 duction, 143 ; leaves Baker 
 Street for Queen's Road West, 
 145 ; everyday life, 146 ; as 
 humourist, 168-205; as story- 
 teller, 51, 172, 173; charade- 
 acting, 175 ; appeals for sug- 
 gestions, 179, 180; subjects 
 supplied to him, 179, 180, 
 
460 
 
 Into* 
 
 Keene, Charles — continued. 
 
 182 ; arrangement with An- 
 drew Tuer, 185 ; friendship 
 with Joseph Crawhall, 192, 193 ; 
 collector of curiosities, 212- 
 216, 232, 235 ; Toryism, 271, 
 308, 309, 402 ; King's Road 
 Studio, 287 ; food peculiarities, 
 85, 86, 288, 289 ; as illustra- 
 tor, 305, 432; his mother's 
 death, 314; painted by Sir 
 George Reid, 324; his dancing, 
 322, 323 ; in society, 321-323, 
 365 ; his appreciation of art, 
 342 ; his editors, 202, 350, 393 ; 
 dress, 83, 330, 353; first symp- 
 toms of illness, 352 ; illness and 
 death, 404-428 ; his last letter, 
 428 ; requiem, 429 ; prophetic 
 picture, 434 ; " Round the 
 Table," 436 ; not appreciated 
 by the masses, 440 ; foreign 
 opinion, 442,443; appearance, 
 6, 7, 123, 124, 332, 333 ; cha- 
 racteristic traits, 7, 8, 9, 20, 21, 
 22, 37, 39, 41, 5°> 5 1 , 53, 54, 
 65, 79, 8 5, ri 7> I2 8, 145, x 73- 
 176, 211, 236, 271, 321, 340, 
 347, 353, 354, 3 6 5> 422, 428, 
 43 6 -438. 
 
 Keene, Henry Eddowes, 2, 5, 
 425, 428. 
 
 Keene, Mary, 2, 7, 9, 10, 59, 
 
 314- 
 
 Keene, Samuel Browne, 1, 8. 
 Keene, William Charles Lever, 1. 
 " King James's Wedding," 394. 
 
 Langtry,Mrs., 365. 
 Lawson, Cecil, 338. 
 
 Lawson, Malcolm, 381. 
 Lawson, F. Wilfrid, 145, 264, 275 , 
 
 284, 297, 320. 
 Leech, John, 2, 45, 75, 81, 171, 
 
 179. 
 
 " Legends of Number Nip, The," 
 87. 
 
 Lehmann, R. C, 75. 
 
 Leigh, Percival, 45, 75, 84, 411. 
 
 Leighton, Sir Frederick, 74, 440. 
 
 Leigh ton, J., 436 n. 
 
 Lemon, Mark, 21, 42,44, 47, 50, 
 75, 8 7, 89, 183. 
 
 Leslie's Choir, 22, 65-67, and note. 
 
 Letters to Barnes, T, 415 ; Ben- 
 nett, Mrs., 421; Cooper, Al- 
 fred, 387 ; Crawhall, Joseph, 
 129, 147, 149, 152, 155, 158, 
 162, 164, 207, 216, 221, 226, 
 239, 251, 253, 254, 259, 263, 
 267, 273, 279, 283, 284, 289, 
 295, 3° 2 > 3°7, 3*7, 333, 337, 
 34o, 345, 348, 357, 359, 360, 
 362, 363, 379, 380, 382, 383, 
 385, 388, 390, 393, 396, 398, 
 399, 408, 412, 419; Dudley, 
 Robert, 428; Edwards, Edwin, 
 94, 97, no, in, i2i, 136 ; 
 Edwards, Mrs., 107, 420 ; 
 Harral, H., 416; Heming, 
 Joseph, 62 ; Lewis, Arthur, 
 35, 64; Millais, Sir J., 423; 
 Macdonald, Alexander, 10 1, 
 257, 277, 3*5- 3 lf >, 3 2 4, 3 2 7, 
 347, 357 j Macdonald, Mrs., 
 413, 418, 424, 426 ; Mercer, 
 T. W., 12; "Rosa," 32; 
 Stewart, J. M., 212, 262, 306, 
 323, 326 ; Tuer, Andrew, 186, 
 187, 328, 371, 375- 
 
Under, 
 
 461 
 
 Lewis, Arthur, 35, 64. 
 Liszt, 362. 
 
 " London Society," 107. 
 Lucas, Samuel, 75. 
 Lucy, Mr., 75. 
 
 Macdonald, Alexander, 179, 239, 
 246, 255, 270, 313, 324, 346; 
 also see under " Letters." 
 
 Macready, 13. 
 
 " Mahogany Tree, The," 45, 75. 
 
 Maple Durham House, 400, 402. 
 
 Marks, Stacy, 78, 180, 234, 248. 
 
 Marshall, C, 28. 
 
 May, Captain Walter, 161. 
 
 Mayhew, Horace, 45, 75. 
 
 Mayhew, R., 13. 
 
 Menzel, 26, 56, 155, 319, 327, 
 
 343, 346, 442. 
 Mercer, General, 12. 
 Meredith, George, 64, 443. 
 Millais, Sir John, 29, 262, 325, 
 
 345, 3 6 5> 421, 422, 425, 427. 
 Milliken, Mr., 74. 
 Mills, W. P., 71, 123, 136, 146, 
 
 332, 35 6 > 422. 
 Mole, J. H., 36. 
 Moray Minstrels, 22, 65, 429. 
 Morris, P., 209. 
 
 Music, 64, 65, 68, 113, 120, 126 
 et seq., 149 et seq., 207 et seq., 
 214, 217, 255, 257, 311, 377. 
 388. 
 
 Musical Societies joined by 
 Keene, 65, 67, 68. 
 
 Nelson, Captain, 224. 
 Newcastle Arts Association, 105 n, 
 278. 
 
 Oberlander, 393. 
 
 Ode to Mrs. Grundy, 411. 
 
 "Once a Week," 63, 64, 78 ; list 
 
 of subjects illustrated by Keene 
 
 for, 445-446. 
 " Our People." no, 204, 328. 
 
 Paris Medal, 410. 
 
 Paxton, Sir Joseph, 73, 75. 
 
 " Philological Incident, The," 366. 
 
 Photography and wood-engrav- 
 ing, 140. 
 
 Pidgeon, H. C, 36. 
 
 Pipes, 19, 28, 29, 30, 166. 
 
 Pizarro, 442. 
 
 Poynter, Mr., R.A., 36. 
 
 Prophetic Picture, 434. 
 
 "Punch," 40, 41, 44, 47, 48, 63, 
 78, 185, 192, 366, 367, 369, 
 372-374, 418, 429 ; Keene's 
 first picture, 45 ; collaboration 
 with Henry Silver, 47 ; first 
 signed picture, 48; Keene care- 
 ful over "legend," 50; first 
 original work, 54 ; fluctuation 
 of his early work for, 58 ; 
 " Englishmen in Brittany," 59 ; 
 dinner, 72, 73 ; Keene paid by 
 piece, 73; his first "Punch" 
 dinner, 75 j "Pocket-books," 
 104, 105; portraits of "Mr. 
 Punch," 105 ; portraits of him- 
 self in "Punch," 49, 119; re- 
 production of pictures, 141, 
 142 ; "Almanack," 73 n., 202 ; 
 cartoons, 48, 50, 278; pre- 
 face, 437 ; tribute to Keene, 
 440 ; list of Keene's drawings 
 from CrawhalPs suggestions, 
 446-452. 
 
462 
 
 Ranson, Farrar, 2, 6, 180. 
 
 Read, Samuel, 33. 
 
 Reade, Charles, 64. 
 
 Reid, Sir George, 324, 427. 
 
 "Robert," 355. 
 
 Robley, Captain, 179. 
 
 "Robinson Crusoe," 12. 
 
 " Round about Papers," 304. 
 
 " Round the Table," 436. 
 
 Rowlandson, 171. 
 
 Royal Academy, The, 14, 345, 
 
 346, 3 6 4, 3 6 5> 378. 
 Royal Academy Ballad, The, 40, 
 41. 
 
 Royal Academy Dinner, The, 
 
 346, 3 6 3> 3 66 , 4i9- 
 Ruskin, 442. 
 
 :Sacred Harmonic Society, The, 
 68. 
 
 Sambourne, Linley, 74. 
 
 Sands, J., 123 et seq., 144, 218, 
 
 223, 226, 260, 394, 396, 399. 
 .Scott, W. B., 154, 291, 300, 317, 
 
 3i 8 , 334- 
 " Sea Kings and Naval Heroes," 
 
 77- 
 
 .Shakespeare, 171. 
 
 Shield, Henry, 192. 
 
 Siam, King of, 135. 
 
 " Siege of Sebastopol," 59. 
 
 Silver, Henry, 18-23, 46, 47-54, 
 
 58, 75, 184, 278. 
 .Sleigh, Mr., 59. 
 Smallfield, R, 36. 
 Smith, Mary Ann, 428. 
 Spanish Exhibition, 408. 
 Sparrow, Mary, 2. 
 Sparrows' Nest, The, 6. 
 .Spielmann, M. H., 73. 
 
 Stanley, H. M., 421. 
 Stevenson, A., 77, 165, 210, 224, 
 
 244, 246, 251, 252, 266, 276, 
 
 333- 
 
 Stewart, J. M», 24, 26, 56, 59, 
 60, 81, 95, 117, 136, 223, 234, 
 274, 281. 
 
 Stippled appearance in work, 376. 
 
 Stone, W. H, 133, 218. 
 
 Stothard, 231. 
 
 Strand Studio, 16-19, 2 3, 2 4, 26, 
 60. 
 
 " Street Sweeping Machines," 45. 
 Studios, Strand, 16 ; Chpstone 
 
 Street, 60 ; Baker Street, 79 ; 
 
 Queen's Road West, 145 ; 
 
 Kings Road, Chelsea, 287. 
 Swain, J., 24, 25, 114, 143. 
 
 Taylor, Tom, 45, 75, 203. 
 Tempera painting, 89, 95. 
 Tenniel, John, 35, 38, 44, 59, 
 
 74, 75, 8r , *4i, 278, 439. 
 Thackeray, 2, 45, 75, 82, 171, 
 
 3°4- 
 
 Thomas, W. L., 23, 410, 433. 
 Tigbourne Cottage, 96, 147, 237. 
 Topham, R W., 36. 
 " Tracks for Tourists," 89. 
 Tuer, Andrew, 184-191, 367, 370, 
 
 372, 375- 
 Turkish Cadi, A, 339. 
 
 Vaughan, Herbert, 77. 
 Verestschagen, 344. 
 " Very much Abroad," 89. 
 Volunteers, 49, 70. 
 "Voyage of the Constance, The," 
 77- 
 
Inner* 
 
 463 
 
 Walker, Fred, 10, 36. 
 
 Wells, H. T., R.A., 36. 
 
 " Western Madrigal Society, 
 
 The," 68. 
 Whistler, J., 17S, 343. 
 Whymper, Messrs., 10, 11, 15, 
 
 33, 54- 
 Wilde, Oscar, 178. 
 
 Williams, The Four, 36. 
 Wingfield, J. D., 36, 60. 
 Witley, 96, 101, 102, 124, 136, 
 
 219, 225, 
 Wood Engraving, 10, 140 et seq., 
 
 230, 231, 343. 
 Wright, Aldis, 172, 180, 304, 
 
 326. 
 
CHISVV1CK PRESS:— C. WHITTINGHAM AND CO., TOOKS COURT, 
 CHANCERY LANE. 
 
THE GETTY CENTER