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At the Vestry Door.

John McLenan

14 July 1860

11.7 cm high by 8.8 cm wide (4 ½ by 3 ½ inches), vignetted, p. 437; p. 216 in the 1861 volume.

Thirty-fourth regular illustration for Collins's The Woman in White: A Novel (1860).

Scanned image and text by Philip V. Allingham.

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At the Vestry Door. — staff artist John McLenan's thirty-fourth composite woodblock engraving for Wilkie Collins's The Woman in White: A Novel, Instalment 33, published on 14 July 1860 in Harper's Weekly: A Journal of Civilization, Vol. IV, "The Second Epoch; "The Narrative of Walter Hartright, Resumed. IX," p. 437; p. 216 in the 1861 volume. [Click on the image to enlarge it.]

Passage: Glyde in attempting to destroy Vestry Registry imperils himself.

The horror of remaining inactive all that time was more than I could face. In defiance of my own reason I persuaded myself that the doomed and lost wretch in the vestry might still be lying senseless on the floor, might not be dead yet. If we broke open the door, might we save him? I knew the strength of the heavy lock — I knew the thickness of the nailed oak — I knew the hopelessness of assailing the one and the other by ordinary means. But surely there were beams still left in the dismantled cottages near the church? What if we got one, and used it as a battering-ram against the door?

The thought leaped through me like the fire leaping out of the shattered skylight. I appealed to the man who had spoken first of the fire-engine in the town. “Have you got your pickaxes handy?” Yes, they had. “And a hatchet, and a saw, and a bit of rope?” Yes! yes! yes! I ran down among the villagers, with the lantern in my hand. “Five shillings apiece to every man who helps me!” They started into life at the words. That ravenous second hunger of poverty — the hunger for money — roused them into tumult and activity in a moment. “Two of you for more lanterns, if you have them! Two of you for the pickaxes and the tools! The rest after me to find the beam!” They cheered — with shrill starveling voices they cheered. The women and the children fled back on either side. We rushed in a body down the churchyard path to the first empty cottage. Not a man was left behind but the clerk — the poor old clerk standing on the flat tombstone sobbing and wailing over the church. The servant was still at my heels — his white, helpless, panic-stricken face was close over my shoulder as we pushed into the cottage. There were rafters from the torn-down floor above, lying loose on the ground — but they were too light. A beam ran across over our heads, but not out of reach of our arms and our pickaxes — a beam fast at each end in the ruined wall, with ceiling and flooring all ripped away, and a great gap in the roof above, open to the sky. We attacked the beam at both ends at once. God! how it held — how the brick and mortar of the wall resisted us! We struck, and tugged, and tore. The beam gave at one end — it came down with a lump of brickwork after it. There was a scream from the women all huddled in the doorway to look at us — a shout from the men — two of them down but not hurt. Another tug all together — and the beam was loose at both ends. We raised it, and gave the word to clear the doorway. Now for the work! now for the rush at the door! There is the fire streaming into the sky, streaming brighter than ever to light us! Steady along the churchyard path—steady with the beam for a rush at the door. One, two, three — and off. Out rings the cheering again, irrepressibly. We have shaken it already, the hinges must give if the lock won’t. Another run with the beam! One, two, three — and off. It’s loose! the stealthy fire darts at us through the crevice all round it. Another, and a last rush! The door falls in with a crash. A great hush of awe, a stillness of breathless expectation, possesses every living soul of us. We look for the body. The scorching heat on our faces drives us back: we see nothing — above, below, all through the room, we see nothing but a sheet of living fire. [Part 34: "Hartright's Narrative, IX," p. 437; pp. 215-216 in the 1861 volume.]

Commentary: Hartright Becomes A Member of the Rescue Party, and Man of Action

Hartright's authenticity as the primary narrator is supported by the multiple-narrative, 'documentary' formula: his quasi-legal function as the collector and arranger of the narratives of others gives him a status this rather boring and stuffy young man would otherwise lack. [Peters, 214]

But suddenly Hartright, narrator-collector, becomes an active protagonist and leader of men, an action figure, according to the model set by the protagonists of Sir Walter Scott's Waverley Novels. Seeing the church in Old Welmingham ablaze and realising that there must still somebody trapped inside, Hartright abandons his intellectual aloofness and plays a dynamic role as the parishioners attempt to save the building. Since the first step must be to quell the fire in the vestry, he plays a central role in manning the beam and smashing down the stout door as flames and smoke pour forth. What is significant about McLenan's dramatic illustration is not merely the central role that he confers upon the previously forensic protagonist (centre): nowhere has he depicted the firehose, the fire-engine, or the police. Rather, he emphasizes "We struck, and tugged, and tore" (216).

Related Material

  • McLenan's uncaptioned headnote vignette for the thirty-third serial number: Fire lights up the night sky at the Welmington church for the 14 July 1860 instalment
  • Fred Walker's poster: The Woman in White for the Olympic's October 1871 adaptation

Bibliography

Collins, Wilkie. The Woman in White: A Novel. New York: Harper & Bros., 1861 (first printing, 15 August 1860; reissued in single-column format in 1902, 548 pages).

Collins, Wilkie. The Woman in White: A Novel. Harper's Weekly: A Journal of Civilization. Illustrated by John McLenan. Vols. III-IV (26 November 1859 through 8 September 1860).

Collins, Wilkie. The Woman in White. Ed. Maria K. Bachman and Don Richard Cox. Illustrated by Sir John Gilbert and F. A. Fraser. Toronto: Broadview, 2006.

Peters, Catherine. "Chapter Twelve: The Woman in White (1859-1860)." The King of the Inventors: A Life of Wilkie Collins. London: Minerva Press, 1992. 205-25.

Vann, J. Don. "The Woman in White in All the Year Round, 26 November 1859 — 25 August 1860." Victorian Novels in Serial. New York: MLA, 1985. 44-46.



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Created 30 July 2024