Frederic G. Kitton's study opens with a lithograph portrait of Dickens inscribed with Tiny Tim's blessing, immediately establishing the interplay between text and image that defines this work. Rather than a mere catalogue, the book draws on letters and preparatory sketches to trace how Dickens directed artists like Cattermole and Browne, specifying details such as a locksmith's shop at night or a rioter's slouched hat. These exchanges show Dickens as an exacting collaborator, demanding blocks of a certain shape and insisting on consistency across illustrators.

Dickens's Instructions as Creative Constraints

Kitton reproduces letters in which Dickens dictates not just subject but composition: for Cattermole's depiction of the Warren ruins, he specifies that the mysterious figure must wear a large cloak and slouched hat, because Browne will show him in the same number unchanged. Such directives reveal Dickens's concern for visual continuity across artists. In another note, he asks for a block of a long shape so a house may come upright, as it were—a practical demand that shaped the illustration's vertical emphasis. These constraints were not limitations but catalysts; Cattermole's sketch of the ruined home, sent for approval, shows the artist working within Dickens's framework while adding his own dramatic lighting.

The Evolution of a Scene Through Sketches

Kitton emphasizes the value of preparatory studies, noting that the volume includes facsimiles of original drawings reproduced for the first time. For instance, Cattermole's drawing of the dilapidated inn The Boot is described as a direct transcript from an old print of 1780, reversed in the woodcut. This reveals how illustrators adapted existing visual sources to fit Dickens's narratives. The correspondence also shows Dickens refining his requests: in one letter he asks for rioters in John Willet's bar, listing props like smashed bottles and a grove of lemons; in the next he expands the scene to the Warren's flaming ruins, adding Solomon Daisy looking on from below. The sketches thus document a collaborative process of narrative visualization.

Consistency Across Multiple Hands

A recurring concern in Dickens's letters is that different illustrators must agree on character appearances. When Cattermole depicts the mysterious file, Dickens reminds him that Browne will show the same figure in the same number, so the cloak and hat must match. This coordination extended to minor details: in an earlier note about Barnaby Rudge, Dickens tells Cattermole that Browne has already drawn the locksmith, so the new artist need not see that sketch. Kitton's evidence suggests that Dickens acted as a visual editor, ensuring that each illustrator's work cohered with others'—a remarkable feat given the serial publication schedule.

The Materiality of Victorian Illustration

Kitton's preface notes that the original issues of Dickens's novels present a remarkable array of illustrations, representative of nearly every branch of book-illustration: pencil, etching, and brush. The letters reveal the practical side of this artistry: Dickens commands Cattermole to put a penny pistol to Chapman's head and demand the blocks, indicating the illustrator had learned to copy designs directly onto wood, bypassing an intermediary. Such details ground the creative process in the material constraints of wood engraving and serial deadlines. The facsimiles of tentative studies, as Kitton calls them, offer insight into how designers developed their conceptions under pressure.

Kitton's compilation is best approached as a documentary record of artistic collaboration rather than a critical appraisal. Readers interested in the mechanics of Victorian illustration will find the correspondence and sketch reproductions invaluable, while those seeking plot analysis should look elsewhere. The book rewards attention to the specific language of Dickens's requests—his insistence on a sleepy watchman, a long-shaped block, or a slouched hat—as these details illuminate how text became image.