A Message From the Sea (hosted by Sara) - 4th Summer Read 2021

[Sara]

Yes, the imagery is stunning and this is a 100% ghost tale. No question marks.

[Lori]

I thought it was still a great story. They’ve all been so unique. I wanted to be backpacking the Alps but without the ghost!

[Petra]

I also really enjoyed this story. It had premonitions, friendship, true love, adventure and those lovely descriptions.
I found the story of a young man wanting so desperately to join his Love that he haunted his friends to find him very touching.
It's sad that she joined him, but also touching, in it's way. I suppose in the melodramatic times her death was seen as romantic and a true bonding of two spirits.

Lori, it would be such a great adventure to go backpacking in the Alps.....with no ghosts and a good comfy hotel at the end of every day.

[Sara]

Sorry, I did not mean to imply this was not a good story, I just found it less exciting than the previous ones. It was a much more laid back ghost tale to me. If I were rating it as a stand alone, I would give it a 4-star rating. The others were easily 5's for me.

I felt the character development was quite good. I warmed immediately to the brothers, and liked their banter. I would love to know who primarily wrote this one. It seems to have a distinctively different style.

I do think this would have been very appealing to Dickens. He obviously loved a good ghost tale and the hauntings in the mountains made me think of the earlier story we read, To Be Read at Dusk.

[Lori]

I know what you were saying and I do agree that the others were 5 star reads for sure. This one was completely different but I liked that about it. The brothers were the best characters for me. I could picture them talking and jabbering on just like some of my Italian friends I know. Very animated. And very spot on that they felt their own Arno Valley much prettier than Christien’s hills of Interlaken.

[Connie]

In addition to the wonderful descriptions of the Alps, the music box motif that runs through the story also gives us a sense of place. The Swiss were known for their talent in making music boxes, watches, clocks, and other precision instruments.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Links all in place so far.

Sara - Your précis of the story is again superb :) It is well good enough (a colloquial bit of Essex there!) for those who do not have a copy of the middle chapters to read and follow the story well enough to discuss it with us. Thank you!

Following on from that thought, do you (or anyone) have a print copy of these chapters? I've drawn a blank, but it would be nice to put one on our shelves, if it exists.

I really enjoyed this story, and also thought of To Be Read at Dusk, and also of Little Dorrit, for slightly different reasons.

The only clue I can glean as to the authorship is the musical connection. As Connie pointed out, music boxes come from Switzerland, and are central to this tale, with the ghostly tune. So I'm led to slightly favour Henry F. Chorley. As Wiki says, he was a "literary critic and music gossip columnist of the mid-nineteenth century and wrote extensively about music in London and in Europe". (There's quite a good entry about him LINK HERE.)

It's a very tenuous connection though; perhaps he just had the basic idea, and made suggestions for another to write up.

Did other spot the reference to "Prospero" (from William Shakespeare's The Tempest) - giving us another indication of ghosts and magic afoot.

I really enjoyed this story. I found it to be well-constructed, and some of the descriptions were beautiful.

[Sara]

Chapter IV: The Seafaring Man (written by Wilkie Collins)

Who was the seafaring man? And what might he have to say for himself? He answers those questions in his own words.

With that we switch to a first person voice of the seafaring man.

He starts by telling us that he has traveled to Lanrean by foot, not having the cost of a ride and also wanting the time to lighten his anxieties, for he has a specific reason for coming to Lanrean, part serious and part joyful. Just as Jorgan and Alfred had been caught in the fog, so had this seaman and stumbled, as they had, upon the same inn. He was beaconed into the club meeting already in progress and given his dinner and a place by the fire. When he was selected by the teetotum to tell his story, he tried to decline, saying he had no story to tell and was a mere second mate aboard ship.

When asked where he left his ship, he replied “At the bottom of the sea,” which of course implied he had quite a story to tell, after all. So, he says, he was taken in the moment and began to tell the story of his own fate and shipwreck. He told the tale of the loss of the ship, but when he got to the saving of himself and the place of his stranding, he realized he could not tell that part and “couldn’t and durstn’t let out to strangers--no, not if every man among them had offered me a hundred pounds apiece, on the spot…”

As the club clamored for him to continue, he rose, bad them goodnight and went up to his bed. “I never belonged to a club of any kind, myself; and, after what I saw of that club, I don’t care if I never do,” were his parting thoughts. The room had two beds, and choosing the bed beside the door, he turned his face to the wall and slept. When he woke in the morning, the room was chilled and there was another man in the second bed. So anxious that even the breathing of the man in the second bed distrubed him, he rose and went to the window, then looking down at the sleeping man he found something familiar in his hair and forehead, which were all that was visible. He reached down and removed the covers from his face, and found the man to be his brother, Alfred.

Knowing that his family would now believe him dead, Hugh hesitates to wake Alfred. As Hugh is contemplating the situation, Alfred stirs and awakens to see Hugh standing over him. He is in shock, of course, and cannot speak. Both men are overcome and Alfred cries. Hugh asks of his wife and child, whom Hugh must be told is a girl, and inquires of his mother. It then occurs to Alfred to take the note he is carrying from his kerchief and show it to Hugh, who is shocked to see his message he threw into the sea has preceded him home.
He asks and is told how the message happened to be in Alfred’s possession and becomes aware of Captain Jorgan. He is able to fill in the empty spaces where the writing was rubbed away, and tells Alfred he has no more knowledge of the truth regarding the money but is determined to see his father’s name set right.

They quietly leave the inn to walk together and Hugh tells the full story of how the message came to be written and thrown into the sea.

Hugh shipped as a second mate upon a ship carrying cargo to and from Truxillo in South America. When they are underway, he is told they are to pick up a “supercargo” (Supercargo personnel are an integral part of the ship's operational mission and are aboard ship for the express purpose of escorting unit cargo between the port of embarkation and the port of debarkation) by the name of Lawrence Clissold, who is to make the return trip. No one of the crew knows the man, Clissold.

The trip to South America goes well, but Hugh contracts a fever, which keeps him abed until they are ten days at sea, when he meets Clissold for the first time. He takes an instant dislike to the man, who he figures for a drinker, and the man returns the dislike. He asks him if he is kin to the late Hugh Raybrock of Devonshire and he replies he is his son. Clissold then clearly disparages Hugh’s father and tells Hugh that when he was young he owed his father money and the father was harsh in demanding payment. He claims to have paid the debt and Hugh defends his father’s right to demand payment of a just debt. Clissold says he will have Hugh put off the ship at the next port.

Clissold does not bring up the subject again, and while they do not get along well, they continue the trip together. Hugh determines to go to the attorney’s when he returns home and have a look at the transaction between his father and Clissold. He suspects Clissold may have attempted to cheat his father and been stymied, thus the hatred.

The voyage had been perfect to this point, with good weather and good luck, but upon reaching Cape Horn, the luck turned sour. A great storm and wind blew them far off-course and on the fourth day, Hugh is pitched out of his berth onto the cabin floor and hears the “crash of the ship’s timbers”, a signal that the ship is wrecked.

When he comes on deck everyone is scrambling for the lifeboats. He feels there is little hope they can survive in this sea, but decides to make for the boats as well, but first he runs back below to retrieve a writing-case that was a gift from his mother on leaving. A curl of his wife’s hair and her letters are inside and he means to save them and perhaps die with them. When he surfaces, all the crew and both boats are gone.
The aft section of the ship became wedged between some rocks and Hugh becomes determined to await his fate onboard until the morning. When morning comes he hears a thumping on the side of the ship and goes to find the lifeboat upside down, beating against the side of the ship. Every man but himself now dead, he climbs what is left of the mast and spots a small island barely a mile distant from the wreckage. There is a small boat left aboard the ship and he goes to attempt to launch it.

He hears below him a knocking of another man trapped in a cabin, and upon checking finds it is Clissold. When he gains entry to the cabin, he finds an open case of spirits, two bottles broken on the floor, and Clissold drunk. He drags him up to the deck, making him aware that the ship has wrecked, and lashes him to the rail to have time to sober enough to help in the launching of the tiny boat.

Hugh had provisioned the boat with what he could find of food, water, candles, matches, medical supplies, and a pistol, and with Clissold’s assistance they launch the boat and head for the island. They find a sheltered place and unload the provisions, and Hugh leaves to survey the island. The outlook is bleak, as there is no food or water and he cannot sight another island. He knows they have been blown out of the trade lanes and the chances of another ship are slim. So, he decides to attempt a return to the ship to scour for more food and water.

When he returns to Clissold, he finds the provisions have been stowed and a tarp pulled over them. When Clissold finds he is planning to go back to the ship, he says Hugh will be drowned and there will be double the provisions for himself and Hugh replies that Clissold will then die in his turn when he has used up his double portion. But the storm resumes before he can make the ship and he must turn back. He almost drowns and when he makes his way back to Clissold witnesses him drinking from a flask in his pocket. Hugh is shivering and requests a draw on the liquor, but Clissold tells him with delight that the flask is now empty. But, digging in the medicine chest, Hugh finds a flask of ginger-brandy and sustains himself with that.

They sit, as enemies under the tarp, and Clissold intentionally prods Hugh by bringing up the matter of his father again. Hugh warns him to shut up and Clissold eventually drifts into a drunken stupor, in which he mumbles about Hugh’s father and “five hundred pounds”. When he awakens, Hugh questions him regarding the linking of his father with that sum of money, but Clissold merely questions Hugh as to whether that was the exact sum his father left and will not tell him more.

(Continued in the following comment box)

[Sara]

As the storm wears itself out, Hugh wakes to find Clissold’s hand creeping into his pocket to steal the ginger-brandy. He rolls him away and then tells him they cannot dwell together and that Clissold being the older man, Hugh will leave him the known shelter, take his share of the stores, and find his own place at the other end of the island.

Looking out to the sea, he finds the ship had been splintered apart and is wholly gone. He divides the stores, giving Clissold first choice of items, he leaves Clissold the tarp and he takes the medicine chest and the pistol, then he attempts to make a civil parting, but Clissold refuses.

Hugh finds a half cavern and establishes himself a home and feels he is waiting for some three weeks to expire and find him dead. But, now that the fog has lifted, he looks out to the south and spies another island some eight miles off, which he knows must be of decent size to be visible to him from that distance. Alas, the boat was lost in his attempt to reach the ship and there is nothing material to use to build anything that will float him to the island he sees. He rigs a signal from his shirt in case anyone might see it, and finds that rain water has pooled in some of the rock hollows, extending their water supply for another week. He feels it only fair to tell Clissold what he has found but he is met with a demand that he stay on his own side of the island.

The men do not meet again for over a week. Meanwhile, Hugh gathers small wood from the shipwreck and dries it so that he can build a fire at night in hopes of being spotted. He estimates his stores will last some eight weeks before they are completely gone and he tries to resist thinking of home or hoping too much. He begins to wonder about Clissold, how he fares and whether he would deign to bury Hugh should Hugh die first. On the eighth day, he decides to beard the lion in its den and crosses the island.

He meets Clissold coming toward him, vastly changed, withered. He places his hand over the pocket where Hugh kept the flask and begs for a mouthful of the brandy. Hugh hesitates, because the elixir is life and there are but two mouthfuls left. Thinking he is going to say no, Clissold comes near to his ear and whispers, “I’ll tell you what I know about the five hundred pound, if you’ll give me a drop.”

Clissold then tells Hugh that the five hundred pounds is “stolen money”. He seems to wander in his mind and believes they are in England again. He tells Hugh he must go to Lanrean and ask among the old men for Tregarthen.

Here a shocked Albert interrupts and asks to have the name repeated. He then tells Hugh of his engagement to Kitty and the postponement of the marriage because of the loss of the money. Then Hugh continues his story.

Clissold tells him he is to find Tregarthen and tell him to check his books and “look at the leaf you know of and see for yourself it is not the right leaf to be there.” and “The right leaf is hidden, not burnt”, for Clissold was interrupted in the act of trying to burn the leaf and instead allowed it to slip down into a crack in the great desk. Then he was to say to Tregarthen that he should look at Clissold’s desk, but he should blame Raybrock for driving him to it.

Hugh warns Clissold to get back to the other side of the island before Hugh loses his control and “does him a mischief”, then he throws the remainders of the flask to Clissold and leaves him. Hugh agonizes over the story and cannot decide if there is truth or only drunkenness in it, but he recalls his father saying it was money he had “taken a risk” with, and it bothers him. He commits the details of his conversation to writing, then he goes to walk the beach and when he returns finds footprints not his own and discovers that Clissold has stolen or wasted his store of water and taken the pistol in his absence.

He heads to the Northern side of the island to take the gun back and spies a ship. All thought of his errand escapes him and he rushes to build a fire. It is daylight and the ship is unlikely to see a fire, but he hopes they may see the smoke as it curls into the air. Clissold emerges from nowhere screaming he has seen the ship. Then he asks Hugh what it was he told him yesterday and Hugh pats his pocket and says he has written the story he was told and plans to pursue a proof when he is returned to England.

Clissold whips out the pistol and pulls the trigger, but it fails to fire, and Hugh rips it from his grasp. He thinks about hitting him with it, but then calms himself and says he will wait for the ship. Clissold begins to leave then turns and says, ‘the ship will never find you.’ The threat sadly comes true, for the ship continues to sail away and is soon lost to sight.

Hugh returns to his cavern and muses that he has probably one day of life left in him and that the fact that Clissold attempted to take his life rather than see him rescued probably indicates that there is truth in his story and that his father was involved in some way with a theft of money. It was then, realizing he would likely not see England again and not be able to clear his father’s name, that he wrote Alfred’s name at the top of the paper he was carrying and sealed it into one of the empty medicine bottles from the medicine chest.
That evening he prepared a larger meal than usual, feasted, and lit the fire as a sort of company. While sitting at the fire, Clissold stole up upon him with a rock in hand, but Hugh pointed the gun at him and he backed away, shouting “the ship is coming, the ship shall never find you.” He ran off in a manic state and later that night Hugh sees a red tint in the ocean waters, feels a whoosh of heat, and realizes the entire island has been set afire. He knows Clissold has set the fire and he also knows he could not have survived it. The dry gorse burns readily and Hugh climbs onto a jutt of rocks that goes out into the sea and shields as best he can from the flames. It is sheer instinct that forces him to preserve his life, knowing there is sure starvation in his near future.

Knowing his end near, Hugh drops the bottle into the water and then crawls up onto the rocks in a swoon. He wakes to savage hands on his body, tying him, and finds himself rescued into captivity. Without sharing any details of his captivity, he spends about 2 years with the savages when he is rescued by a ship that puts into the island for fresh water, and works his way back to Falmouth and home.

[Sara]

At last we have Hugh's account of what has happened to him during his absence and we now know exactly what the significance of the 500 pounds is. I found this part of the story very well written and exciting. Ship wrecks and island strandings were, obviously, an occurrence that was not totally uncommon at this time, what was probably less common was someone surviving and coming back to tell their story.

I liked the way we were skillfully pulled back into our original story, even though Hugh's story is almost like another of the tales we were told in the Club in being complete in itself.

[Lori]

I must say that I had a feeling about the seafaring man and this was a great way to bring the brothers back together. Was this part written by Collins? Is this the section that got Dickens all heated about the way he wanted to start it?

It was a very exciting story. Some of it was coincidental - meeting of Clissold as the supercargo for instance. Boy, Clissold acted so immaturely and selfishly. I suppose that was due to the alcohol and the lack of it made him mad. The character of these two men are so opposite. I can't imagine being thrust into this type of situation nor being able to understand how a person must feel at the precipice of the end of their life. Knowing it's coming but not knowing when is so frightening. But to be saved was truly remarkable and makes for a wonderful Christmas story.

[Petra]

Like Lori, I liked how this story was woven into this novella. It was a well written segue to bring the brothers together.

In a way, I felt sorry for Crissold. The alcoholism would skew his actions towards selfish and keep his outlook very narrow. We never got to know the real man.
That said, this is not a man one wants to be trapped on a desert island with.

This was such a desolate situation to be in. One would have to make one's peace with Life & God; the chances of being saved would be seen as slim to none. Facing that future must have been excruciating.

The brothers seem to come from solid stock. They aren't afraid to face what's coming. Hugh never flinched while on the island. He did his best and faced his future.
That said....he did have a strong instinct for preservation, so he never lost Hope completely. He got into the water when the fire broke out and saved himself. A man without Hope wouldn't have removed himself from the fire and would have used the Peace he'd made with Life & God to face his Death. Hope burns eternal, even in such dire situations.

[Sara]

Yes, Collins wrote this section and he and Dickens apparently scuffled a bit about how it was to be done. There is a paper on this subject that sounded very interesting to me, but I was not able to gain access to it, so only got the first couple of paragraphs as a teaser.

I agree, this made for a great Christmas story. I found it interesting that Clissold was willing to risk his own life (which he forfeited) in order to attempt to prevent Hugh's survival. Isn't it ironic that it is the attempt to kill Hugh that brings the savages who save him?

It must feel terrible to know you will starve or die from lack of water and be unable to do anything about it, and then another difficult situation when the people who "save" you turn out to be enslaving you instead. It really speaks to the natural instinct to survive. He had no idea why he bothered to flee the fire, but there was a purpose, and the purpose was his rescue and getting back to his family at last. Do you not feel that those who went to sea were extremely brave? I do.

Thanks so much for your input, Lori!

[Sara]

Petra We were responding at the same time, and had much the same response. I like what you have said about Glissold, but he seems the kind of man who resents people who are solid and good, probably because he cannot stand up to the comparison. He disliked the father and he carries that over to the son. Sadly, had he been a better person, he might have been saved as well. He rejected Hugh's attempt to share the rain water that had collected, and he was spiteful enough to set himself on fire...what a horrible way to perish that would be!

Can't help wondering if Dickens wouldn't have given him more redeeming characteristics. He is more pitiful, drunken character than villian in the end, but his past tells us that it is more than just the drink that makes him despicable.

[Sue]

I agree with you all that this was very well done. It’s tightly written and really gives such great portraits of both men. I’m finding that I really enjoy Collins’ writing.

[Sara]

I also enjoy his books, Sue. No Name was terrific, and The Moonstone is a true classic.

[Petra]

I'm also a fan of Wilkie Collins' books.
The Moonstone is terrific, as is The Woman in White. I also really enjoyed The Dead Secret and The Two Destinies.

I started and was really enjoying No Name but Life got in the way. I will restart it soon and enjoy it to the end. It was a great story (as far as I got into it).

[Lori]

I'm about halfway through my first, The Woman in White. I am really enjoying it.

[Sue]

I’ve read The Moonstone and The Woman in White but should check out his other work.

[Sue]

I just checked. I have No Name and Queen of Hearts on my kindle and my collection of classic mysteries showed up in a search of his name too so there may be some stories there. My kindle has so much that I don’t even know is there!

[Sara]

I have The Dead Secret and Jezebel's Daughter as my next Collins to read. He was quite prolific and I hope I can get to all of them eventually. I have read seven so far and hardly scratched the surface.

[Sue]

I really had no idea he was so prolific until this group came into my life. Another win for Dickensians.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Sue wrote: "I just checked. I have No Name and Queen of Hearts on my kindle ..."

These are both great (as are all those mentioned!) and in fact we have read part of The Queen of Hearts as a group already! It is a novel from 1859, but part of it had been included in The Lazy Tour Of Two Idle Apprentices in 1857. That was a collaboration between him and Charles Dickens; another short work which we read last summer :)

The Queen of Hearts is a novel which is a collection of ten short stories inside a framing story. The story which was first read within The Lazy Tour Of Two Idle Apprentices was later published elsewhere as “The Dead Hand”, or “Brother Morgans Story of The Dead Hand”. (Now everyone is remembering it :) )

I really like Wilkie Collins's short stories. They are often ghostly - even macabre tales. My favourite might be The Traveller's Story of a Terribly Strange Bed. Many have been dramatised for radio, as have some of the novels, including No Name and Armadale (though I didn't care for that one). There are TV miniseries of both his most popular novels, The Woman in White and The Moonstone - including an excellent new one of The Woman in White a couple of years ago. I expect they are all on DVD :)

[Sara]

I had to add The Traveller's Story of a Terribly Strange Bed, Jean, particularly as you cite it as a favorite. I do remember "The Dead Hand" and find it very interesting the way these authors repurposed their writing.

As always thank you for the added info, which makes all of the reading so much more enjoyable. And, I also wanted to thank you for the link to Chorley's wiki page. I finally found the time to read it in depth, although I had scanned it earlier. I was surprised to find his contributions to Dickens' periodicals was not mentioned at all, which leads me to believe they were insignificant compared to those of some of the others here. You might be right in assuming he tossed out the idea and others developed it. Afterward, he probably played them a new composition on the piano. :)

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Sara wrote: "Afterward, he probably played them a new composition on the piano. :)..."

LOL Yes, very likely! I must admit that I am frustrated to not find definite corroboration of the authors, and like you Sara, am annoyed at the "preciousness" of scholars who keep their research to their own little clique in an academic library :( Perhaps it is only surmise from them too, though.

I've seen the story sometimes just called A Terribly Strange Bed. It's unforgettable, and whenever I see a 4-poster bed in a stately home, I now get a shiver down my spine!

[Sara]

I have serious problems with it, Jean. I uncovered anything that would add to the knowledge in my field, why would I not want to share it with everyone who is interested? I sincerely believe that was once the attitude, now everything at university (or anywhere else for that matter) is tied to money and secrecy. If you want to know...you pay. I wonder if they make you pay when you go into the library at the university and ask to see this research. They probably make you prove you are a tuition paying student.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

I'm afraid you are right Sara, and I do agree.

If you try to access university libraries, unless you are a tutor or a student you cannot. Chris has found that he no longer has access to various Oxford college libraries, yet when he was a student there, he had. Now unless you are a professor there, you cannot access the papers in that field. It's intensely frustrating, and academic books on his subject (Philosophy) are phenomenally - and quite deliberately - expensive, as are subscriptions to academic libraries who deign to allow members. Far beyond our budget :(

But I fear it was always thus. We just didn't realise when we were young, perhaps?

Sorry - this is completely off-topic! But I do hope that if anyone does happen to discover provenance - or even a complete print edition in the future, they will come back and share it here. We can but hope :)

Edit:
I've even emailed "Boz Books" - a lovely old shop in the town of antiquarian books, Hay-on-Wye, to see if they know of one :) (They are now online, but that's still the place to go if you have a spare few hundred pounds and would like a first edition of your favourite Charles Dickens novel.)

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Sadly "Boz Books" do not have an original copy of the "All the Year Round" number with A Message from the Sea. Because the upcoming issues started serialising Great Expectations, this one is bound in with others from 1860. And because the first book edition of Great Expectations is so expensive, people have been starting to buy it in serial form. So sadly the bound editions from 1860 are now hard to come by.

He also found the two later editions I had, but no more.

[Sara]

The lovely conclusion of our story:

Chapter V: Restitution

Captain Jorgan is out canvasing the town while the two brothers are talking, and he meets them as he is returning to the inn. He immediately recognizes that the man with Alfred must be the sea-faring man, but before he can greet him he notes that the two men are “much alike”. They set upon the Captain, shaking his hands and stumbling over one another to tell him Hugh’s story and that the man in the note is Tregarthen.

They agree that they must go back to Tregarthen and acquaint him with the secret they had kept from him before. They intend first to go to look at the father’s books which are being kept by the lawyer, then, taking care to hide Hugh’s identity, the brother’s will proceed to see Tregarthen and Jorgan will go to prepare Hugh’s mother and wife for his unexpected return.

Jorgan, however, suggests that Hugh being slow (how kind is that? lol) and Alfred being in love, and thus distracted, it would be best for them to turn the investigation over to him--and they agree. They set a time to meet the following day.

The following morning, Jorgan is sitting on the doorstep when the lawyer arrives at his offices. Knowing Alfred and Hugh well, he immediately gives all the papers he is holding of the father’s to Jorgan for his perusal, and Jorgan makes short work of gathering the pertinent information.

The records show that Lawrence Clissold borrowed 550 pounds from Mr. Raybrock in order to fund a speculation which was intended to make him quite independent. When the note came due, however, Clissold did not have the means to repay it. He asked for more time and was denied it. Then Raybrock received the money with an angry letter saying Clissold had obtained the money from a relative and Raybrock responded that Clissold should never attempt to borrow money from him again, as he would not ever take such a risk a second time.

As they leave the lawyer’s office, Jorgan points out that these papers support the faith that Hugh had in his father’s innocence. Concealing Hugh’s identity again, they make their way to Tregarthen’s home, where they do not see Kitty and Tregarthen alone in his study.

"Sir," said the captain, instantly shaking hands with him, pen and all, "I'm glad to see you, sir. How do you do, sir ? I told you you'd think better of me by-and-by, and I congratulate you on going to do it."

Jorgan then spies Mr. Pettifer cooking something at the fire and beckons him over. He proceeds to introduce Tregarthen to Hugh and says

”You don't want to be told that he was cast away, but you do want to be told (for there's a purpose in it) that he was cast away with another man. That man, by name, was Lawrence Clissold."

At the mention of this name, Tregarthen colors and says Clissold was a fellow clerk of his some 35 years earlier at the House of Dringworth Brothers. Jorgan then says there was a conversation between the two men on the island regarding 500 pounds, and Tregarthen colors again. When he hears Jorgan’s story, he exclaims that “Clissold was the man who ruined me,” and says he suspected the same all along.

Tregarthen kept a book of sums received and turned the monies over with a copy for Clossold to take to the bank. On the day in question an entry of 500 pounds was made in the book, but Clissold denied being given the money. He demanded that Tregarthen’s book would bear him out, and on checking the entry, which Tregarthen had made, was not there.

Tregarthen knew the entry was a forgery, but says the handwriting was very like his own and he could not deny the book nor explain the missing money, so he was required to repay the sum. He left his position and took a lesser one in Lanrean and finally the small post he currently holds. He says he always suspected Clissold, but could never prove it, and has lived with this one secret in his heart and from his daughter.

Jorgan then explains that the brothers have come to restore the money and will not think of retaining it when it was stolen from Tregarthen in such a manner. But, Tregarthen says no, that he appreciates their believing him, but that he can offer no proof and without it will not accept the money.

The proof he is told is hidden in a crack in the desk that Clissold used at the time, because he was interrupted and unable to burn it as he had intended. Jorgan asks if it is likely that the desk is still in the offices but is told the company no longer conducts business there and all the furnishings have been disbursed.

At this point, Mr. Pettifer chimes in that he knows something of the House in question. It turns out that Pettifer was once in the brokering business with his brother and they purchased furniture from the House of Dringworth Brothers, and that he was given by his brother a desk with a crack in it when their own business dissolved. Because it was in bad shape, Pettifer took the desk apart and assembled a better one, and finding the hidden document, he used it to line his hat. And, saying that, Jorgan pulls the rabbit...uh, paper, from the hat.

The money is restored to Tregarthen, who immediately gifts it to his daughter, Kitty. The marriage is reappointed. And, Jorgan makes it his duty to go to the House of Dringworth Brothers and clear Tregarthen’s name, restoring his reputation. Then the couple rush off to the Post Office to prepare for Jorgan’s visit and sing his praises.

He is greeted warmly and apologies all around for the previous encounter. He takes the baby upon his knee and sings her a song, then says he has a little girl of his own and that he often tells her stories of sailors who are believed to be lost and come back from the sea.

Margaret stops her working and looks at him and he reiterates "I make up stories and tell 'em to that child. Stories of shipwreck on desert islands and long delay in getting back to civilised lands.

He continues and Margaret catches the drift of his words and kneels at his knees. He asks her if she can bear good news as she has borne bad news. Then he tells her that Hugh is alive and whistles him in.

The family are all together again, and Mr. Pettifer brings cold water for the ladies and smooths their dresses for them. The Captain cannot stay for the wedding, for he has business elsewhere, but he is seen to the edge of the town by the populace, all of whom he invites to visit him in the States, he is kissed by Kitty, and last seen waving his hat over his head and departing with Tom Pettifer.

And there, before that ground was softened with the fallen leaves of three more summers, a rosy little boy took his first unsteady run to a fair young mother's breast, and the name of that infant fisherman was Jorgan Raybrock.

[Connie]

I've been on vacation, but have enjoyed everyone's comments and Sara's excellent summaries. I also have enjoyed Wilkie Collin's writing so I appreciate all the reading suggestions to sample more of his work.

I also laughed when reading that Hugh was considered slow. Maybe he wasn't a scholar, but he was very resourceful in staying alive after the shipwreck in the company of a maniac.

The honesty shown by the family, the helpfulness of the Captain, the happiness of Hugh's return, the joy of Kitty and Alfred's marriage, and the birth of their son bring this story to a "feel good" ending. I would think that it would have been a popular type of story in a Christmas edition. This was a wonderful reading experience.

[Lori]

I concur all that Connie said and have enjoyed reading this story with everyone very much. All of the discussions really make these stories come alive even more. I wonder if this entire story was published at once or if it was serialized even though it's not a novel. It's certainly a lengthy story.

[Petra]

I thoroughly enjoyed this tale. It's such a feel-good story that leaves you with a smile.

This last section had a few miraculous moments (good for the Christmas issue, I would think) but despite these improbabilities, they were plausible and worked towards a perfect ending.
I hope Jorgan made his way home safely and that Mr. Pettifer is also happy.

Sara, thank you for choosing this story. It was wonderful. Also, thank you for the insights and detailed summaries. There's so much in each of Dickens' stories and you've brought out the best in this story.

[Sue]

I enjoyed this entire story sequence too. And the discussion around it. Who knew there would be so much in Christmas stories? Dickens, of course!

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Sorry to go back a little ... chapter 4 was longer than I had expected. (Impossible to predict on kindle as the huge file starts and ends at 46%!) Wonderfully exciting though, as others have said :) And it contained several of Wilkie Collins's favourite themes: a mystery to do with an inheritance, possible misattribution of guilt, and the very slow build-up - which as Lori reminded us, he and Charles Dickens had disagreed on. As I remember Wilkie Collins had wanted to put another level in, starting with a letter. Sara mentioned this. How the Victorians did love their stories within stories!

I keep thinking how very similar this collaboration is to The Wreck of the Golden Mary: Being the Captain's Account of the Loss of the Ship, and the Mate's Account of the Great Deliverance of Her People in an ... Number of Household Words, Christmas, 1856. There we had "The Supercargo's Story". Here we have "The Seafaring Man's Story". There (in another tale) we had someone who had been shipwrecked and spent several years as a slave to the "savage" natives of another country. All the nautical elements are in both, and as Sara said, would have been familiar to the original readers. The heart-stopping moments would have had even more power for them.

I do think this chapter alone would make a fantastic film! It's so visually exciting :)

[Sara]

Lori This appeared all at one time in the Christmas issue. I'm sure it would have made for days and days of reading. One thing people of this time did, that we seldom do now, was read aloud in groups. There were many, many illiterate people who depended on others to read to them. I can imagine a group of neighbors and friends getting together before a fire to read a section of this every night. The entire publication would easily have filled their entire Christmas season.

Like all of you, I enjoyed this exciting story and all the stories within the story. I read each of them twice in preparing for this, and found there was much more to glean in the second reading than I had anticipated. Reading with this group always adds a great deal to my experience!

This is a wonderful way to experience both Dickens and Collins, and I find it distressing that these stories (this one and The Wreck) are hard to find in their complete versions. I expect Dickens would be upset to know they are butchered in an effort to single out his contributions...after all, he is the one who cobbled them together into a unit in the first place.

When I selected this story, which actually happened back when we did our first readings, I thought it might be impossible to find the complete version. I am so happy that I did and appreciate everyone who made the effort to assemble the materials and read along with this one. I think we are winners for having done so!

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Well said Sara! You have led this marvellously well, and I especially appreciate the full summaries you have prepared, which will enable everyone to appreciate the work as a whole, whatever edition they have and whenever they read it. I'm sure you're right, that cutting it about as publishers do is completely against what Charles Dickens would have wished.

[Sara]

Thank you, Jean. I was both intimidated and inspired by Petra's marvelous work on The Wreck of the Golden Mary. I appreciate all the research that the both of you did that helped to enhance this read for us all.

[Sue]

And I want to thank all involved for encouraging me to find an adequate copy of Dickens’ stories. After a couple of tries, I now have a collection on kindle which seems fairly complete (did well with these, though missed some connections in the Wreck stories).

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Oh what a delightful ending! Pure Charles Dickens, with a few moments to make me chuckle out loud (such as the oysters and the mathematical tables!) His good humour almost brims over in this chapter.

Also everyone has a purpose in the story; the important role the steward Tom Pettifer has, is neatly done :) Did you notice a reference to the hat near the beginning? I very nearly linked to an article about Victorian paper hats at that point! (There was a time when were hats were constructed by Victorian working men to protect their heads.) In this case, Pettifer used paper as a lining. Very neat, and the sort of minor but memorable detail Charles Dickens might have dropped in as a clue, at the start of one of his novels.

I was also reminded of Dombey and Son, as I'm sure others were, when (view spoiler)[ Walter Gay was found to not have drowned but returned. Captain Jorgan's careful explanation to Margaret, was exactly similar to Captain Cuttle explaining at great length that Walter was safe, to Florence Dombey. (hide spoiler)]

A really lovely read :) Thank you so much for choosing it Sara. Eve though we start a new one with Bridget tomorrow, I'll leave this in the current groups reads folder for a couple of weeks, so people can add to it. Then I'll put it in the "Novellas and Collaborative Works" folder.

[Sara]

I couldn't help thinking how nothing was wasted back in those days, so a found paper was used as lining for a hat or shoes. Thank goodness this one wasn't used for a pipelight! My grandmother saved such things when I was a child. Scraps of paper that could be written on the backside of, and bits of string or tin. Remember, there were limited uses of plastics before WWII and running to the WalMart wasn't an option.

As always, it pays to attend to detail when Charles Dickens is involved. He and Collins were both very clever at leaving clues but also very precise in tying up everything at the end of a story. I have never felt cheated at the end of any of their tales.

[Connie]

Thanks for doing such a great job in hosting this collaborative story, Sara. I've been enjoying the two Christmas editions we read since we got a taste of his contemporaries' work as well as the brilliance of Dickens.

[Sue]

Yes indeed. Thank you Sara. These stories are really a gold mine waiting to be explored and thanks for your guidance.

[Sara]

Thank you all so much. I agree that this was a fantastic read because it gave us all that we already love in Dickens, along with a meaningful sample of some other writers we might never have encountered otherwise.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

A lovely postscript ...

Remember back in comment 31 I mentioned that Clovelly is a typical Devon fishing village, and that Charles Dickens's descriptions of Steepways reminded me of it? I even posted a picture of the main street? Well you can blow me down with a feather, but my instinct was right; I picked the right one! Charles Dickens did base his village on Clovelly! He obviously did a fantastic job in describing it so accurately :)

I have tried to link to the article, but Goodreads won't let me. Nor will they let me post pictures. I suppose this is another blip on top of the notifications being out (for a fortnight so far). I'll edit this to include it as soon as they let me!

[Sara]

It does not surprise me that you were right...sometimes I think you channel Dickens, Jean. I'll be very interested in the article when you are able to post it. The blips on GR are taxing at times! I try, but I have never achieved a completely adequate system to substitute for the notifications I no longer get.

[Sue]

I use the notification notice in the app to show me what’s happening. Of course, whether that’s accurate or not is anyone’s guess. I go back and forth between the app and the website to get things done.

[Sara]

I do somewhat the same, and use the main page, but there always seem to be things I miss. I mark every thread for "all mails" but that also fails to work some of the time. I suppose GR will eventually get it fixed. I try to remind myself that this is a service I receive for no charge and so I should be glad for what I have and not complain. :)

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Sara wrote: "Thanks so much, all...

Jean--The Victorian Web suggests that this story was not illustrated because it was not wholly written by Dickens. That made no sense to me, because The Wreck of the Golden Mary was also collaborative and was illustrated. What did seem firm was that no other illustrations existed beyond that of Furniss. Sad, because this story, as it progresses, would have been a great one to illustrate...."

I'm back again (as I'm in the process of writing a review, so this work still preoccupies my thoughts!)

We've now moved on, and sadly found just two extra illustrations for "A Message from the Sea" - the one you found by Harry Furniss (comment 4) and the one by Audley Gunston (comment 33). Both are later than the original magazine, however, although Harry Furniss's was clearly much closer in time.

In fact, looking at the facsimile you linked to Sara, the original edition of A message from the sea (1860) by Charles Dickens in "All the Year Round" was illustrated, but with just one illustration (which I later placed at the head of the thread). It is by Arthur Jule Goodman: a wood-engraving from the original extra Christmas number of "All the Year Round" for 1860, and is of a fragment of the letter. So the "Victorian Web" is mistaken - as we can see from the facsimile. As I often say it's a resource very like Wiki, in that many articles are good but it has quite a few mistakes :( In this case, that was merely surmise on the part of one of the Victorian Web's many contributors.

My theory ... Charles Dickens was not just repeating more of the same in his second magazine, "All the Year Round". There are some slight differences, and one is the lack of illustrations. In fact the one at the head of the thread is the only one in all nine extra Christmas numbers! (If you want to buy a set of the originals, by the way, the latest price I've seen is $1,650.00!) He had also published nine extra Christmas numbers of "Household Words", including as you mentioned The Wreck of the Golden Mary: Being the Captain's Account of the Loss of the Ship, and the Mate's Account of the Great Deliverance of Her People in an ... Number of Household Words, Christmas, 1856.

So my personal take (also a guess!) on his motivation, is that because by the time of "All the Year Round" Charles Dickens was publishing more of the collaborative works, he decided to stop commissioning illustrators for any of the future Christmas editions. We know for a fact that they don't exist - the magazines are not illustrated. And this would fit in with his later thoughts. As you might know, Great Expectations for instance, was not illustrated at all in its first (serial) publication - although many illustrators have produced work for later editions.

The Wreck of the Golden Mary: Being the Captain's Account of the Loss of the Ship, and the Mate's Account of the Great Deliverance of Her People in an ... Number of Household Words, Christmas, 1856. was earlier, for "Household Words", and thus probably before he had decided this. So that's why the Victorian Web's supposition didn't seem to make any sense. If you look at the timing, and the fact that the two works were from different magazines, I think it changes everything.

I also wonder if Charles Dickens allowed just this one wood-engraving, as it is not so much an illustration of the story, as a kind of symbol, or motif. Or is that too fanciful, perhaps? But Charles Dickens certainly liked to dictate to his illustrators - down to the smallest detail sometimes - and perhaps he didn't feel it was right to do that, for other authors' works.

I do wish a later illustrator had worked on A message from the sea (1860) by Charles Dickens in a later edition, but apart from the poster from the play Charles Dickens adapted from this (did I post about that?) I don't think there is one up to now.

[Sara]

Jean, I didn't think of the letter as just an illustration because it was integral to the story. The broken words on the illustrated letter are the only reading that is given of the note itself. To see what the note said and where the gaps were missing, keeping Alfred from being able to decipher the entire message, you must see and read that illustration. I think that explains why it was included when Dickens was choosing not to use illustrations.

I also wondered if the message illustration was Charles Aston Collins contribution to this story. He is listed as a contributor, but I could not find a particular place where he fit, but he certainly was the logical person to have done the illustration.

I have also not quite left this read behind. I don't think you did post about this being adapted for a play, and I don't recall coming across that when I was researching. I'd like to see that poster.

Just a surmise on my part, but I wonder if the interest in this story has been so thin because it was so butchered in reproduction. If you read it with only the portion Dickens wrote it would seem more than incomplete, it would seem nonsensical. Try to imagine this story without "The Seafaring Man" or even the Club section, which in addition to the separate stories, gives us the information that the Seafaring Man had arrived and how. You would literally go from the men going out in search of the truth to the Restitution in which Hugh would have magically reappeared.

[Bionic Jean, "Dickens Duchess"]

Sara wrote: "Jean, I didn't think of the letter as just an illustration because ... To see what the note said and where the gaps were missing, keeping Alfred from being able to decipher the entire message, you must see and read that illustration."

Yes, I like this point too. In the facsimile it comes at page 5, which must be the right context. And I Iiked your thought about Charles Alston Collins, except that it is clearly credited to the American Arthur Jules Goodman in my Centennial Edition (I cut that bit of the illustration off, and typed it). I hadn't heard of him before, but discovered that he illustrated quite a few of Charles Dickens works later (just as Harry Furniss did) including a frontispiece for "No Thoroughfare" in 1898. And the letter fragment, as we can see, was in the original magazine.

I admit this is odd, and I can't quite square this with his dates; he seems a bit too young, unless he trained as an artist later. I've found 2 short bios, neither of which give his birth year, only that he died in 1926. The British Museum say he studied at the Académie Julian, Paris, 1885-90 and exhibited: Boston AC, 1881; and Paris Salon, 1887. It says he was "later active in England", but perhaps Charles Dickens had come across him on his visit to the States. There might be more about this American 19th century portrait painter in American library archives.

Since we can't nail down Charles Alston Collins's contribution, I wonder whether he played a part in helping Arthur Jules Goodman's woodcut. Maybe he sketched out the words, in which case he might, stretching a point, be deemed as adding to the narrative, (as well as providing musical inspiration for the ghost story geared round a musical box). Since he'd only recently married Katy, perhaps her father (Charles Dickens) was trying to make him feel a welcome member of his personal family, and "family firm" too.

Sara - I'll certainly add the poster and link - and yesterday's links too - as soon as Goodreads allows me to!

Your final paragraph echoes what I wrote in my review yesterday, but I have to cut a lot out, as I go on a diatribe about all the truncated editions :( I just came back here to post some of what I'd found about "All the Year Round" etc., as I thought you and the group might be interested.

Thanks again, as ever :)