The Man behind the Wonderland - The Life and Work of the Legendary Author Lewis Carroll. Stuart Dodgson Collingwood

by several other periodicals, equally short-lived.

      In 1849 or 1850, The Rectory Umbrella began to appear. As the editor was by this time seventeen or eighteen years old, it was naturally of a more ambitious character than any of its precursors. It contained a serial story of the most thrilling interest, entitled, “The Walking-Stick of Destiny,” some meritorious poetry, a few humorous essays, and several caricatures of pictures in the Vernon Gallery. Three reproductions of these pictures follow, with extracts from the Umbrella descriptive of them.

       [Illustration: The only sister who would write to her brother, though the table had just “folded down”! The other sisters are depicted “sternly resolved to set off to Halnaby & the Castle,” tho’ it is yet “early, early morning”—Rembrondt.]

       THE VERNON GALLERY.

       “THE AGE OF INNOCENCE.”

      As our readers will have seen by the preceding page, we have commenced engraving the above series of pictures. “The Age of Innocence,” by Sir J. Reynolds, representing a young Hippopotamus seated under a shady tree, presents to the contemplative mind a charming union of youth and innocence.

       EDITOR.

       “THE SCANTY MEAL.”

      We have been unusually^[001] successful in our second engraving from the Vernon Gallery. The picture is intended, as our readers will perceive, to illustrate the evils of homoeopathy.^[002] This idea is well carried out through the whole picture. The thin old lady at the head of the table is in the painter’s best style; we almost fancy we can trace in the eye of the other lady a lurking suspicion that her glasses are not really in fault, and that the old gentleman has helped her to nothing instead of a nonillionth.^[003] Her companion has evidently got an empty glass in his hand; the two children in front are admirably managed, and there is a sly smile on the footman’s face, as if he thoroughly enjoyed either the bad news he is bringing or the wrath of his mistress. The carpet is executed with that elaborate care for which Mr. Herring is so famed, and the picture on the whole is one of his best.

       [Illustration: SIR D. WILKIE PAINTER THE FIRST EARRING. W. GREATBACH ENGRAVER. from the picture in the Vernon Gallery]

       “The First Ear-ring”

      The scene from which this excellent picture is painted is taken from a passage in the autobiography^[004] of the celebrated Sir William Smith^[005] of his life when a schoolboy: we transcribe the passage: “One day Bill Tomkins^[006] and I were left alone in the house, the old doctor being out; after playing a number of pranks Bill laid me a bet of sixpence that I wouldn’t pour a bottle of ink over the doctor’s cat. I did it, but at that moment old Muggles came home, and caught me by the ear as I attempted to run away. My sensations at the moment I shall never forget; on that occasion I received my first ear-ring.^[007] The only remark Bill made to me, as he paid me the money afterwards was, ‘I say, didn’t you just howl jolly!’” The engraving is an excellent copy of the picture.

      The best thing in the Rectory Umbrella was a parody on Lord Macaulay’s style in the “Lays of Ancient Rome”; Charles had a special aptitude for parody, as is evidenced by several of the best-known verses in his later books.

      LAYS OF SORROW.

       No. 2.

      Fair stands the ancient^[008] Rectory, The Rectory of Croft, The sun shines bright upon it, The breezes whisper soft. From all the house and garden Its inhabitants come forth, And muster in the road without, And pace in twos and threes about, The children of the North. Some are waiting in the garden, Some are waiting at the door, And some are following behind, And some have gone before. But wherefore all this mustering?

Wherefore this vast array? A gallant feat of horsemanship Will be performed to-day. To eastward and to westward, The crowd divides amain, Two youths are leading on the steed, Both tugging at the rein; And sorely do they labour, For the steed^[009] is very strong, And backward moves its stubborn feet, And backward ever doth retreat, And drags its guides along. And now the knight hath mounted, Before the admiring band, Hath got the stirrups on his feet. The bridle in his hand. Yet, oh! beware, sir horseman! And tempt thy fate no more, For such a steed as thou hast got, Was never rid before!

The rabbits^[010] bow before thee. And cower in the straw; The chickens^[011] are submissive, And own thy will for law; Bullfinches and canary Thy bidding do obey; And e’en the tortoise in its shell Doth never say thee nay.

But thy steed will hear no master, Thy steed will bear no stick, And woe to those that beat her, And woe to those that kick!^[012] For though her rider smite her, As hard as he can hit, And strive to turn her from the yard, She stands in silence, pulling hard Against the pulling bit.

And now the road to Dalton Hath felt their coming tread, The crowd are speeding on before, And all have gone ahead. Yet often look they backward, And cheer him on, and bawl, For slower still, and still more slow, That horseman and that charger go, And scarce advance at all. And now two roads to choose from Are in that rider’s sight: In front the road to Dalton,

And New Croft upon the right. “I can’t get by!” he bellows, “I really am not able! Though I pull my shoulder out of joint, I cannot get him past this point, For it leads unto his stable!” Then out spake Ulfrid Longbow,^[013] A valiant youth was he, “Lo! I will stand on thy right hand And guard the pass for thee!”

And out spake fair Flureeza,^[014] His sister eke was she, “I will abide on thy other side, And turn thy steed for thee!”

      And now commenced a struggle

       Between that steed and rider,

       For all the strength that he hath left

      

Doth not suffice to guide her. Though Ulfrid and his sister

      Have kindly stopped the way,

       And all the crowd have cried aloud,

       “We can’t wait here all day!”