Pickwickian Punch for Dickens' 200th

Today marked Charles Dickens’ 200^th birthday. Along with year-long exhibits, performances, and events, today a wreath laying ceremony was held at Dickens’ tomb in Poets’ Corner at Westminster Abbey, with many descendants of the author in attendance, a talk by the Archbishop of Canterbury, and a wonderful reading by actor Ralph Fiennes. Without a doubt, a red letter day for those who are passionate about Dickens, English Literature, and 19^th century London and who were able to be there. From the footage (though only brief) it does look a tad lugubrious. It's irresistible to imagine how the author himself would have rendered the scene, satirical eye fully agleam. I suppose I envisioned there being more Dickensian vigor and levity to the proceedings. But never mind—it was clearly momentous for those present, and fantastic that a writer of fiction would be honored in that way.

On his ill-starred 1943 trip to America, and his later trip in 1867-1868, Dickens did not make it as far west as San Francisco. Yet he seems to have had a favorable view of the city, though a slightly misguided one. In 1870, in a response(?) to a letter request from a San Francisco Chronicle editor (if the article is to be taken as presented; which I’m not entirely sure about), Dickens wrote a wonderful description of how oppressively DAMP London was at that moment, and how he would very much like to be in sunny San Francisco. He wrote:

“Not only did London steam but all London’s inhabitants steamed too. The fishwomen steamed and the butcher’s boy steamed; the roast beef steamed its fragrant British aroma through the area gratings of the Golden Huntsman’s house; boiled potatoes steamed… cauliflower and veal-pies steamed… the three-legged cur on the slippery flags steamed as he gnawed the steaming bone he had found in the steaming gutter, and the lazy, snub-nosed baker’s boy, with a large basket of steaming loaves, steamed violently as he kicked the steaming dog into the steaming streets...” And the steam goes on. Then he writes, addressing “the doleful town” of London:

“Why don’t you borrow a little sunshine from your young cousin San Francisco and overcome this extremely laundry-like appearance and smell which haunts you by day and night?”

He was making the common mistake about San Francisco, of course, imagining it was the land of eternal California sunshine. Little did he know how very damp we can get here, with the blanketing fog in July and black mold coating window sills through the spring! Though the winds from the Pacific do help us to avoid that laundry smell affect!

Although Dickens never made it here, he was then, as now, a perennial favorite of the city (the annual San Francisco Dickens Christmas Fair has become an institution).  In the month of his birthday, up into the 20^th century, the Chronicle social columns (as in 1913) featured ideas for Dickens-themed parties with recipes for meat pies and such, with appropriate decorations. At least one ill-fated character costume ball was held in 1874 (mostly people loitered around in “street clothes”). The closest the city got to the man himself, however, was a visit from his son, Charles Dickens Jr., in May of 1888 while he was on a reading tour. It sounds like he was received with enthusiasm and apparently he was “much sought after” on the morning following his appearance, as he lounged at the Palace Hotel smoking his cigar.  At the end of his reading the previous night, the “fair audience fairly rose at him” and showered him with floral corsages. Probably he was a poor substitute for his father, but a clear indication that the senior author was well rooted in the affections of the city by the bay.

When, many months ago, I first learned of the planned event at Poets’ Corner, I promised myself that I would find a way to attend. But it was not to be. I felt a bit melancholy about that today.  Maybe if longevity is on my side, I will be around to mark his 250^th birthday. But it’s just not the same. So at times like this there is only one thing for it: to ask oneself, WHAT WOULD PICKWICK DO? And the answer, of course, is: MAKE PUNCH!

In their wonderful and endlessly diverting book, Convivial Dickens: The Drinks of Dickens & His Times, in the chapter “Pickwick, Principle, and Punch” (55-68), the authors Hewett and Axton describe how hot punch making in the late Georgian period and first half of the 19th century amounted to a masculine, theatrical ritual beside the hearth with the lemons, sugar lumps, and liquids laid out as on an alchemist’s work table and presided over as the convivial company looks on. And Dickens himself was reportedly an avid and passionate punch maker, tweaking and tinkering with his concoctions, and corresponding with friends after gatherings to gauge the success of his efforts. The authors include the following recipe at the end of the chapter (69), culled from the journal The Dickensian (1905). And this is my chosen solace and Bicentenary toast for the evening, perfect for warming the cockles of the Dickens-loving heart:

Charles Dickens’ Own Punch, 18 January 1847

“Juice and thinly peeled rind of 3 lemons; 2 good handfuls of lump sugar; 1 qt. old rum; 1 or 2 large wineglasses of brandy.

Put rind, spirits, and sugar into a warm basin, and set fire to spirits by lighting a small quantity in a heated spoon and pouring it in. Burn 3 or 4 minutes, stirring occasionally, then extinguish by covering bowl with tray. Add juice of 3 lemons and 1 quart boiling water. Stir again and cover for 5 minutes, stir again and taste: add more sugar if desired. Pour all into large jug, tie thick cloth over top to exclude air, and keep warm until brought to table in a punch bowl.”

You can take my word for the fact that this punch is just as edifying if you don’t set the liquor alight. Sad to say, I nearly caught my hair on fire and had to abort the mission. But if you are equipped for such operations, it’s preferable to do it right! Now for one more comforting pour before bed…

Hewett, Edward, and W. F. Axton. Convivial Dickens: The Drinks of Dickens & His Times. Ohio University Press. Athens, Ohio: 1983.

San Francisco Chronicle (1869-Current File); ProQuest Historical Newspapers: San Francisco Chronicle (1865-1922): January 16, 1870, pg. 5; April 18, 1874, pg. 3; May 8, 1888, pg. 8; March 30, 1913, pg. SM13.