Chapter 5 examines how early nineteenth-century accounts of walking in the city traced the nuisances and delights of urban living, helping to articulate a sense of collective experience that in turn shaped a sense of what it meant to be a Londoner. Many of these accounts of London emphasized the modernity of their moment by reimagining earlier eighteenth-century works, presenting them as inadequate to the task of describing the contemporary experience of the city. Trivia’s “art of walking the streets of London” was reworked to propose forms of selfish behaviour in the streets, and Pierce Egan’s Life in London broadly followed the template of spy guides while also showing his characters delighting in, rather than simply observing, all aspects of urban pleasure. Together, these works suggested new ways of thinking about moving through the streets of a city as crowded and busy as London.

This chapter makes a case for the importance of the 1830s in the history of the British novel. Although unmarked by the publication of novels that enjoyed the longevity of fiction published in the decades before and after, this decade produced a conjunction that was to have a major impact on the future development of the novel form: the emergence, on the one hand, of the young Charles Dickens as a talented new writer and, on the other, of London as a major subject of (predominantly visual) representation. This conjunction, the chapter argues, was to produce a new branch, in Franco Moretti’s sense, on the tree of the British novel. Specifically, the chapter shows how Dickens’s earliest work, Sketches by Boz, already fabricates, in terms of characterisation and its organisation of the social spaces that could potentially underlie plot relations, a London-driven urban aesthetic that would differ from the principles of what, by the 1860s, became consecrated as the canonical British novel.

This chapter traces the career of the printseller Hannah Humphrey and her long association with James Gillray, with whom she lived in some form of partnership from 1794 until Gillray’s death in 1815. Brought up in a shop that sold shells and other curiosities, Hannah’s brother George became the leading commercial expert on shells while her sister Elizabeth married the world’s most important dealer in minerals. As for Hannah, by the time she was twenty-eight, she ran a shop selling prints, and, by the time she died, was the best-known caricature printseller in London. She and her brother William worked with Gillray from the outset of his career, but Hannah ultimately became Gillray’s sole publisher and even a collaborator who likely took part in the creative process as well as the business.

During the Victorian era, current events were copiously represented in newspapers and in popular entertainments of all genres: they recirculated through both media in mutually reinforcing ways. As Frederick Chesson polished his capacity to articulate performance critique and launched his journalistic career, George Cruikshanks comet-shaped illustration of the events of 1853 represents exactly how these conjoint realms were experienced by the Victorian public. As a political organiser, Chesson was initially allied with the Manchester School, opposing the Crimean War and promoting free trade. First on the Empire then the Star and Daily News, his journalism represents a broad engagement with liberal causes, Garrisonian abolitionism, opposition to imperialism, and advocacy for Indigenous peoples self-determination. His work epitomises activism nearly a century before the concept was coined. The ability to envision complex dramaturgies at work around him and at great distances from London enabled Chesson to advocate and remonstrate on behalf of the dispossessed and disadvantaged in forms of observational citizenship that align historical forces, human actions, and the imperative to care.