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| Bram Stoker, “Dracula,” first edition, Archibald Constable and Company, London, 1897. Photo: British Library. Public domain. |
No bats, no blood, no castle. Just a yellow cover with red letters, priced at six shillings.
Inside, the story begins with a young English lawyer, Jonathan Harker, travelling to a castle in the Carpathian Mountains to help a nobleman buy a house in England. He soon realises he is a prisoner. And then the Count sails for England, and comes ashore at Whitby, in the shape of a great black dog.
Reviews were warm. One of the warmest came from a friend, the creator of Sherlock Holmes.
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“The very best story of diablerie which I have read for many years.”
Arthur Conan Doyle, letter to Bram Stoker, 1897
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We can still see Stoker at work. His handwritten notes for the novel survived, with plans for characters, places and chapters.
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| Bram Stoker’s notes on the characters of “Dracula,” before 1897. Rosenbach Museum, Philadelphia. Public domain. |
Stoker dreamed of a stage version starring Irving as the Count. A few days before publication, he even staged a reading of the whole book at the Lyceum, to protect the stage rights. Irving, it seems, was not interested.
The novel sold steadily, but it never made Stoker rich. He died in London in April 1912, aged 64, in modest circumstances.
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| Bram Stoker, 1906. Public domain. |
His widow, Florence, guarded the rights fiercely. In 1922, a German studio released a silent film called Nosferatu, with the vampire renamed Count Orlok. Nobody had asked her permission.
Florence sued, and won. A German court ordered every copy of the film destroyed. But a few prints survived, and Nosferatu is now counted among the great films of the silent era.
Across the Atlantic, the book had found new readers of its own. The first American edition, in 1899, finally put a castle on the cover.
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| Cover of the first American edition of “Dracula,” Doubleday and McClure, New York, 1899. Public domain. |
The flood came with the films. In 1931, Bela Lugosi’s cape and accent fixed the Count’s image for good. Since then, Dracula has appeared on screen hundreds of times.
I climbed the 199 steps to Whitby Abbey on a grey October evening, with the wind coming hard off the North Sea. At the top, among the gravestones, I finally understood why a man on holiday had looked at this place and seen a vampire.
For more on the first edition, and on Florence Stoker’s fight over Nosferatu, the Toronto Public Library has a short, lively piece: Dracula: A Bloody Good First Edition →
Stoker borrowed a name from a library book and spent seven years building a monster around it. The Count never paid him much rent… but he has never moved out.
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