Charles Dickens in America

The name ‘Charles Dickens’ evokes in most minds three things: Victorian England, streets with gas-lamps, and certain well-known Ghosts.

The name Charles Dickens evokes in most minds specific images: Victorian England, cobblestoned streets with gas-lamps, and three well-known Ghosts. They resurface each Advent, reminding us to be generous.

Many people do not know that Charles Dickens went twice to America. The first time, he was accompanied by his wife, Catherine. He would later return after their separation. By then, his reputation had become tarnished by the unfair manner in which he disposed of Catherine.

Indeed, Dickens wished for his mistress, Nell Ternan, to accompany him the second time. It was not to be; his agent reminded him that no one would believe her to be just a friend.

Dickens was a complicated man, shattered by the traumatic childhood he’d suffered. As his daughter Mamie would later say, he did not understand women.

He did understand how to write stories; his tales had made him a legend on both sides of the ocean. He was admired by British and Americans alike: both were captivated by his books. He won their hearts with characters that readers found relatable.

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Dickens’ first visit to America, with his wife, took place in 1893. He’d achieved fame in England for his stories and periodicals.

After the publication of A Christmas Carol, this fame skyrocketed. Wherever books were read in English, flocks of admirers waited for work from this new author.

Dickens, who’d had aspirations to be a theater actor when a young man, found an opportunity to combine theater and writing. He began to do public readings, captivating audiences with his voice. Some reported that his voice was not deep, but he could do much with it, changing tone and pitch to match each character.

When A Christmas Carol was published, it became popular to the point of plagiarism. Unauthorized theater performances were advertised throughout London. With his later stories, Dickens attempted to prevent this by means of legal stipulations, but that would not be enough to keep greedy hands off of his work.

We can see that Dickens had both of his dreams come true: he was a novelist, and he had made it to the stage, even if it was not as an actor.

Portrait of Charles Dickens in his home, date unknown

Seeing that the performances were well-received, Dickens’ agent suggested a tour across America, where he could perform. He could also meet his dedicated readers across the pond.

Dickens always did enjoy a good adventure, so he agreed. He traveled on the ship Brittania with Catherine and her maid.

Brittania set off from Liverpool, destined to arrive in Boston. The journey would prove long and uncomfortable. Even famous authors get seasick, and Dickens was not immune to the turbulent movements of a ship.

This first trip to America would result in his travel memoir, American Notes. Ironically, his American audience did not like this book, because it seemed to paint their country in a negative light. All the same, it sold well.

In American Notes, he describes a comical instance on the Brittania in which he attempted to pour Catherine brandy to calm her nerves:

When I … was about to administer it [the brandy], with many consolatory expressions, to the nearest sufferer, what was my dismay to see them [the glasses] all roll slowly down to the other end [of the sofa]! And when I staggered to that end, and held out the glass once more, how immensely baffled were my good intentions by the ship giving another lurch, and their all rolling back again! I suppose I dodged them up and down … for at least a quarter of an hour, without reaching them once; and, by the time I did catch them, the brandy-and-water was diminished, by constant spilling, to a tea-spoonful…

Dickens’ discomfort became a thing of the past when Brittania arrived on January 2, 1842. The docks were crowded with reporters and readers, craning their necks for a glimpse of the author who breathed life into Ebenezer Scrooge.

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While Dickens enjoyed the enthusiasm, he would not be able to get a thing done if the crowds continued to chase him—and there were things he wished to get done.

He hadn’t only accepted his agent’s suggestion for the sake of entertainment: there was a matter that had been disturbing him since he’d become renowned. That matter was copyright.

Dickens’ work was being pirated in America, a fact which irked him (with reason). He was grateful for his admiring American readers, but didn’t make a cent off his work when they purchased it. This was not their fault, but it was a matter that he hoped to fix.

One of Dickens’ most important stops was at the White House, where he met with President John Tyler. Dickens found the meeting to be underwhelming; perhaps he was comparing the White House to the beautiful castles he’d left behind in Britain.

When Dickens reached the White House, there was no one to open the door. He rang the bell twice or three times; not a soul answered. Losing his patience, the author let himself in, deciding that he had no choice but to try and find the ill-mannered President on his own.

He eventually ran into a servant who directed him to the Commander-in-Chief.

Later, Dickens would remark about the people in the parlor. He spoke with disapproval about their habit of spitting tobacco. They chewed and spit as if it were sport, and I can only picture the look on Dickens’ face when he saw the mess on the floor.

On this topic, he would write:

Indeed all these gentlemen were so very persevering and energetic in this latter particular, and bestowed their favours so abundantly upon the carpet, that I take it for granted the Presidential housemaids have high wages.

At one point, President Tyler attempted to pay his guest a compliment by commenting on Dickens’ youthful appearance. Dickens did not reply in kind; perhaps he was too disturbed by the tobacco, or he was not the sort of man to offer compliments when he’d had to let himself in.

It must not have been long before he and Catherine were ready to leave the White House, preferring to go anyplace they needn’t worry about spitfuls of tobacco landing on their shoes.

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Dickens’ second trip to America took place in 1867. He was emotionally strained, having endured the scandal of a separation from Catherine.

He had attempted to publish a long article blaming the failure of their marriage on her, accusing her of being a poor wife and mother. Prudently, the publisher refused, leaving the author irate.

In spite of his flailing personal life, he continued to fill theaters. Whether or not the audience approved of his separation, they wished to hear their favorite scenes recited by the author.

America was no exception to this fervor. As described by Lucinda Hawksley in her excellent book Dickens and Christmas:

His readings began the following day, at the Tremont Temple, in the middle of a snowstorm. The New York Tribune wrote of the ‘line of carriages’ thronging the streets as over two thousand ticket holders swarmed towards the venue, ‘the gay, struggling, swarming multitude that was trying to get inside the doors, watched by the long-faced silent multitude that crowded round the doorways without tickets’.

Some admirers had long formed hazy ideas of what Dickens looked like. As a result, they were disappointed when at last they saw him in real life.

Dickens’ traveling companion and manager, George Dolby, wrote about a guest he encountered during one presentation:

I said, “What’s the matter with you?” From the accent of his reply, I concluded that he was a “reg’lar down Easter.” “Say, who’s that man on the platform reading?” “Mr Charles Dickens,” I replied. “But that aint the real Charles Dickens, the man as wrote all them books I’ve been reading all these years.” “The same.” After a moment’s pause, as if for thought, he replied, “Wall [sic], all I’ve got to say about it then is, that he knows no more about Sam Weller ‘n a cow does of pleatin’ a shirt, at all events that ain’t my idea of Sam Weller, anyhow.”

— Lucinda Hawksley, Dickens and Christmas

It seems that, to this day, none of us truly know what Dickens was like. We have photographs and letters, but of all the characters he breathed life into, which is most like him?

This is, perhaps, the mystery that keeps his celebrity status alive.

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By the time of Dickens’ death, his name was known all over the world. His characters, based on people and events he had known in life, outlived him. While many of his decisions were questionable, we have to thank him for the novels he left for us to immerse in.

Without Dickens, there would be no Scrooge; I cannot imagine a Christmas without Mr. Scrooge, whose redemption story continues to give hope to us flawed humans.

There is no excuse for the unkind way in which he treated Catherine. However, I see him as an artistic example. He wrote long novels with compelling twists, knew even what he wanted the books to look like, and would not settle for anything less.

To this day, he continues to haunt us—much like the ghosts of A Christmas Carol—with the book he was not able to finish before death, The Mystery of Edwin Drood.

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Much remains to be written about Dickens, but the month of December is nearing its end. Those posts will have to wait, for we have another guest coming.

Our featured author for January is Jane Austen. Elves are clearing away Christmas decor to prepare for her; we must ensure that the Tearoom is to her liking.

We will dive into Sense and Sensibility, as well as the details of her own life. In many ways, it remains a mystery; far less is available for us to scrutinize about Jane Austen than Charles Dickens, as Jane’s sister Cassandra burned her letters after her death.

Mind your manners, practice your curtsies (or bows), and I hope you had a merry Christmas full of light and love. I also hope you were given lots of fantastic books to read in 2025.

As for myself, I’m setting goals for the coming year. Though I try to keep them simple, I find it difficult to do. Every time a year nears its end, I aim high; I want to be everything and everyone.

In the end, as long as I can be a writer, the rest can take its time.

What are your goals for 2025? Are you already making plans?