Note #9: G.W.M. Reynolds And An Article In Early Victorian England

Note #9: A Mention Of G.W.M. Reynolds In G.M. Young’s Compendium Earl Victorian England. by R.E. Prindle I came across an interesting reference to Reynolds in a book titled Early Victorian England edited by G.M. Young, published by the Oxford Press in 1934. The book is a compendium of essays covering different aspects of early Victorian England not unlike Charles Knight’s London. The article in question is E.E. Kellett’s The Press Each article is written by a different person and while not all are probably in their sixties and seventies most are so they were born possibly as early as 1855 while most must have been born in the 1860s and 70s so they have memories close to the period 1830-65, thus being more familiar with the way things were. The article of interest to us is this essay on the press by Kellet. Interestingly of all the authors he could have chosen to mention he has a page or two concerning Reynolds. In the quote Kellett’s discussion begins with the publisher of Penny Dreadfuls Edward Lloyd. Here I quote pages 65, 66, 67, 68 in full and part of 69. This is terrific background with an acknowledgement of Reynolds. An excellent perspective. Quote: Very different alike from Chambers, Eliza Cook, and Cleave was Edward Lloyd, the founder of the ‘Salisbury Square School of Fiction.’ Lloyd appealed to yet another class, and gave that class what it wanted, with but the pretence of a desire to elevate it in morals and in taste. In September 1841 he started the People’s Police Gazette, a penny weekly consisting solely of what to-day are called ‘thrillers’, or narratives of some sensational crime of the day. He did not touch on politics, and allowed no political cartoons, but made his stories still more horrible by ghastly illustrations. The success of this paper was unprecedented, and Lloyd followed it up with another (1843). The Weekly Penny Miscellany, sixteen closely-printed tales and novels, short or serial, saving space for these by omitting the illustrations. This also was enormously popular. There seemed indeed, to be no limit either to the fecundity of Lloyd’s press or to the willingness of his public to absorb its products. In 1843, also, he brought out the Penny Atlas and Weekly Register of Novel Entertainment, while in an endless stream he poured forth penny novelettes, either selected from his magazines or quite new; not forgetting the serial, in which the ‘To be continued’ at an exciting point ensured the purchase of the next number. The style of these works was what used to be called ‘elevated and impassioned’; and their general character may be gathered from such titles as Alice Horne, or the Revenge of the Blighted One, Ada the Betrayed. What the refined classes thought of all this may be easily guessed. In the Report of the Committee on Public Libraries, 1849, are many proofs of the anxiety caused by the popularity of this ‘Saturday trash.’ Lovett, who owned, however, that he had not himself read it, considered that, at least in the early stages, Lloyd’s publications were immoral and anti-social. The evidence of George Dawson (a name well remembered in Birmingham) may carry still more weight. ‘We give the people an appetite to read, and supply them with nothing. For the last many years, in England, everybody has been educating the people, but they have forgotten to find them any books. In plain language, you have made them hungry, but you have given them nothing to eat; it is almost a misfortune to a man to have a great taste for reading, and not to have the power of satisfying it….The Penny stamp upon newspapers makes the cost of a good thing dear; and adds facility to the cheap people to circulate trash to an extent which is almost incredible: the rubbish issued every Saturday is very great.’ Dawson, as we many believe, was overcolouring the picture; but it is not surprising that he spoke strongly. Nor is it surprising that Charles Knight, who attributed the failure of the Penny Magazine to the competition of Lloyd’s papers, should have felt some indignation. But Lloyd was quite unrepentant. He noted with contempt, in the preface to the Miscellany (1846), the wailings of Knight; and he always insisted that his stories had an ‘elevating’ tendency. Thus, in another of his prefaces, he declares: ‘It has ever been our aim, in the management of Lloyd’s Penny Atlas, to combine as much practical and real knowledge of human life as possible with the “’brain-woven’’ narratives, which from time to time appeared in our pages; for we hold an opinion, which in practice we have had frequent opportunities of verifying, the true morality, sound reasoning, and exalted sentiments may be more easily, more effectually, and more pleasantly conveyed to the mind through the medium of works of fiction than by any other means….We paint virtue oppressed and borne down by the wicked, and then we show the rebound of its energies: while the wild turbulence of vice has brought forth nothing but evil fruits and deep vexation of spirit.’ ‘We lay before a large and intelligent circle of readers those same pleasures of the imagination which have hitherto, to a great extent, graced only the polished leisure of the wealthy.’ Nor was Lloyd without his defenders. Thomas Frost, who made an attempt to earn the half-sovereign which Lloyd paid for each installment of his novels, considered that the Salisbury Square School, provided a useful connection link between the ballads, ‘last dying speeches’ of murderers, and terrific legends of diabolism, which had been the favourite literature of the 1790s, and the more wholesome reading of his own time. The whole controversy was, in fact, another instance of the eternal quarrel between realism and idealism, with this curious difference, that Lloyd’s business-like realism induced him to supply his public with stronger doses of romanticism than the idealist could endure. Lloyd had but one serious rival. This was G.W.M. Reynolds, a strong Chartist, who thoroughly knew the taste of the people he met day by day. As a novelist he challenged the supremacy of G.P.R. James, and was equally prolific. [In a note Kellet adds: Several of his novels, in double columns, paper bound, sixpenny form, were still circulating in the present writer’s youth.] In 1846 he started Reynold’s Newspaper, in which innumerable stories represented vice as a monster of frightful mien, yet, it is to feared, not in such a manner as to render it hateful. There is the usual assemblage of bad baronets, designing marquises, and harassed maidens. From time to time there are sheer horrors, outdoing Mrs. Radcliffe at her most horrible. A typical specimen of Reynolds’s style is perhaps the following, from Ellen Percy, or the Memoirs of an actress (ii. 268): ‘ “Ah, is it so?” I ejaculated’ and the next instant my hands were at the throat of Lady Lilla Essendene. ‘So sudden and so powerful was my attack, that she was completely overpowered in the twinkling of an eye; and she fell upon the floor. ‘ “ Let her go, Miss Percy! And don’t be a fool!” ejaculated Dame Betty. “Those ruffians will come up and murder us.!” ‘ “Be quiet, dame!” I said in a most peremptory manner. “Listen!” ‘And we did listen, while my hands were still upon Lady Lilla’s throat,--my looks showing such stern determination that she evidently thought I should strangle her outright at the first indication of an attempt to cry or resist. For several moments we listened, and still all was silent. ‘ “Now, I said, “you see Lady Lilla, that thus far the victory is my own, and the momentary conflict has not reached the ears of your myrmidons. Answer me!—for you see I am desperate, in as much as my position was rendered desperate by your menaces. Tell me in what part of the building is the young man confined, who was captured by your ruffians in the middle of the night? Beware how you deceive me, for I must inform you this is not the first time I have been a prisoner in these ruins, and I am familiar with situations and details.” ‘ “That young man,” said Lady Lilla, who was just enabled to speak in a whisper as I loosed to the slightest degree the gripe which I had upon her throat,--“that young man is a certain William Lardner---” ‘ “Yes, yes, I know it,” I ejaculated: “he is a sailor on board the yacht where you used to meet Edward St. Clair and plot your horrible schemes for my destruction.” ‘ It is clear that Reynolds’s readers would not only snatch a fearful joy out of his narratives, but also acquire some acquaintance with polysyllabic resources of the English language. Not the least noteworthy characteristic of all the novels of the time is the way in which the heroes, at the most exciting moments, contrive to retain command of a Johnsonian vocabulary. Whatever may be said against the ‘Salisbury Square’ School, it was clean. End of Quote. That account quite nicely places Reynolds in the context of this time. It also shows from whence he found the format for his own novels and magazines. It is interesting that while Lloyd paid half a guinea, that is 126 pence for an installment Reynolds was paid a five pound note each Friday for his. That would seem to indicate that Stiff and Vickers knew what they had and were willing to include Reynolds in the profits. He would have been more of a partner in the enterprise. That might explain why they were so miffed when Reynolds chose to abandon them and struck out on his own. That Reynolds’ story, The Mysteries of London, was doing so well in apparently heavy traffic indicates how well he was thought of by his readers. Kellett’s article proves valuable to myself and us because it gives an accurate and detailed account of the press in which Reynolds was working.