Ancient Rome in the English novel: a study in English historical fiction
Part 5
John Henry Newman was a churchman, who became a bitter opponent of Kingsley; his scholarship was profound, and his early religious training, received from his French Huguenot mother, was along Calvinistic lines. He knew the Bible, it is said, almost by heart. He was led to go over to the Church of Rome by his own studies, since he came to believe that they furnished arguments in support of the Church of Rome, rather than against it. He came to feel with conviction, that the argument that “antiquity was the true exponent of the doctrines of Christianity,” really supported the Church of Rome. In this he was directly opposed to Kingsley. It is commonly stated that Newman’s novel _Callista_, (1855), was written in answer to Kingsley’s _Hypatia_, and this is probably correct. The climax of the public controversy between Kingsley and Newman, however, did not come until 1864, almost ten years later. In his _Postscript_ to _Callista_, Newman refers to Lockhart’s _Valerius_ in such a way as to imply that it is the only other important novel of Roman life, which presents the struggles of Christianity in a philosophical light. He thus intentionally disregards Kingsley’s recently published _Hypatia_. _Callista_ is the story of a martyr in the African Church, under the Decian persecution. Its scene is laid in Sicca Veneria, near Carthage, and its portrayal of life in the Roman Empire is accurate and realistic. The heartlessness of the Roman magistrates,—both in their persecution of the Christians and in their characteristic strokes of policy in dealing with the mob,—reveals the spirit of Roman life. Local color is especially good, the description of the plague of locusts being the best that exists anywhere in literature, (not excepting even the Bible). Newman follows Kingsley in making his heroine a girl of Greek descent, whose ideas of the beauty which she saw in paganism led her to be repulsed by the religion of the Crucified God. But unlike Hypatia, Callista becomes entirely converted.
The finest piece of writing in Newman’s novel, however, is the scene between Callista and Agellius, in which she repudiates Christianity. St. Cyprian, who had been mentioned by Kingsley, is brought into _Callista_; and others high in the Church play a part in the story. Cyprian says the discipline of the Church had become less firm in the interval before the Decian persecution. The author is thus enabled to show that the Church was strengthened by this persecution. To mention familiar elements, magic appears in _Callista_, in the spells and herbs of a witch, which result in her victim being possessed of a demon; the labyrinth motive also appears in the description of the secret passages, by which Callista escapes and which enable the Christians to remain concealed. In any final analysis _Callista_ cannot be compared with Kingsley’s _Hypatia_. In spite of some very fine passages, it is lacking in uniform excellence. In its portrayal of life in the Roman empire, and in its handling of Christianity it falls short of the deep significance intended. There is indeed too much theological discussion. While _Callista_ is a novel of Roman life, and can be read as such, it leans somewhat in the direction of the story of religious instruction, a kind of fiction we have mentioned as an offshoot of the novel of Roman life. Here we may recall that _Fabiola_ by Cardinal Wiseman, had appeared the year before _Callista_; _Fabiola_ represents the story of religious instruction _par excellence_. Cardinal Wiseman had been for a number of years Professor of Oriental languages at Roman University in Rome, and it is likely that his study of Roman antiquities at Rome would have enabled him to make _Fabiola_ a novel of Roman life; instead he made it a stereotyped story of religious instruction. This oft-rewritten horror continues to afford the young the opportunity to enjoy killing off martyrs to their hearts’ content. We thus find it necessary again to dismiss the story of religious instruction from primary consideration, but to remember its presence in the background. Stories of this kind, by the prominent place they gave to Christianity, set a precedent which seemed to bind authors of the novel of Roman life to a considerable extent.
After the publication of _Callista_, a number of preachers, who wrote stories of religious instruction, were enabled by their scholarship, to embellish their work to some extent with a portrayal of Roman life. But even so, their work was often intended primarily for younger readers; their books are commonly classed as juvenile. Books of this kind were written by the Rev. John Neale, the Rev. A. D. Crake, the Rev. G. S. Davies and the Rev. A. J. Church. The last-named author was the most scholarly; and his work was excluded in Section I of this study, rather because it was intended for boys than because it represented the story of religious instruction. In considering the work of preachers, we have to pass over some years before we come to the truly great portrayal of life at Rome in the form of fiction, which is seen in Canon Frederic W. Farrar’s _Darkness and Dawn_, (1892). This is called by its author _An Historic Tale_, and he distinctly says it is not a novel; but in spite of his modest estimate of his own work, _Darkness and Dawn_ is a great novel in every respect, except that it lacks a highly-developed artificial plot. And such a plot is unnecessary, since the element of suspense and even a certain unity of effect are attained merely by a faithful and realistic narration of events, either historical or characteristic of the time. Canon Farrar saw that the age of Nero supplied the best material for the work he contemplated; and in portraying life at Rome in Nero’s time with realistic effect, he has surpassed every other English novelist who has written of that period, and is not himself surpassed even by Sienkiewicz, the Polish author of _Quo Vadis_, (1895).
In writing _Darkness and Dawn_, Canon Farrar made full, though judicious, use of his profound scholarship, which in its thoroughness equals that of Charles Kingsley. He equals Kingsley’s _Hypatia_ in his portrayal of life in the past,—“the thing which has been,”—though he does not attempt in quite the same way to show that it is also “the thing which shall be.” In spite of its figurative title, _Darkness and Dawn_ does not quite bring the reader to the same realization of the onward sweep of history, the march of civilization, the gradual victory of Christianity, that _Hypatia_ does. But in presenting the contrasts in Christian and Pagan life at Rome with faithful exactness, and in terms of the life of today, Farrar teaches his lesson in a different way. While he does not fit his picture of a period of history into the scheme of universal history in the same way that Kingsley does, he portrays the life of the time of Nero with a minuteness of detail which had not been attempted by Kingsley in his portrayal of the life of the Roman Empire in _Hypatia_. Farrar leaves the reader more to derive his own lesson from the facts,—but the sermon is there and may be considered universal in its application. It is only fair, however, to consider _Darkness and Dawn_ chiefly for its portrayal of Roman life. As has been hinted, there is a distinct difference in the method of Farrar’s portrayal of the past, from that used by Kingsley. Kingsley selects what he considers the important things in the life of the past, and shows their significance. Farrar, on the other hand, gives everything which may be of any consequence, with the most minute exactness of detail. Kingsley’s history had been unfairly criticised; Farrar’s is beyond criticism. Farrar not only sifts and weighs the finest points in matters of historical accuracy, but also gives the most painstaking and detailed description of manners, customs, habits, dress, and all other things which aid the reader in obtaining an intimate knowledge of the time with which his story deals.
Between the date of publication of _Hypatia_, (1853), and that of _Darkness and Dawn_, (1892), there had come about a marked change in methods of scholarship, especially of classical scholarship; and the effect of this is to be seen in _Darkness and Dawn_. This change in methods of scholarship is chiefly characterized by an insistence upon the minute analysis of historical facts, and of the manners of the ancients. Its effect upon the English novel of Roman life is due to the influence of the painstaking research made by scholars, usually Germans, in the field of Roman private life and Roman archæology; and to the influence of novels of Roman life which made use of such research, and were written by Germans. This influence will be discussed more thoroughly, when we have concluded our study of the English novel of Roman life as written by Churchmen.
The time of Nero’s reign at Rome is so crowded with historical events of interest that Farrar was enabled to make nearly all important events in his novel, _Darkness and Dawn_, either absolutely true to history, or so closely connected with history, that they might actually have happened at the time when they are supposed to have happened. The few unimportant and intentional anachronisms he has made are explained candidly in his preface. The events described in the novel, though nearly all of them actually happened in Nero’s reign, represent in kind and variety nearly all events which are narrated in other important novels of Roman life. The scenes portrayed are all thoroughly typical of life in ancient Rome. Neither Christian nor pagan life is overemphasized, although a natural and truthful contrast is made of them. Scenes in Nero’s palace, in the forum, in the crowded streets of Rome, at the amphitheatre, at the law-courts, and occasionally in the fashionable suburbs of the city, or at Nero’s various resorts away from Rome, are portrayed with a fidelity which cannot be questioned. And wherever it is possible to make a scene of realistic effect out of an actual historical event, or to add historical details to a scene which significantly portrays Roman life, the author does so. Yet in spite of the fact that so many scenes in Farrar’s novel are taken from history, it is by no means made heavy or overcrowded, with historical detail. Every detail is made significant and interesting, and put in its proper place, so that the general effort is not one of laborious effort but of consummate art. The minutiae of the picture, while effective in themselves, do not obscure its larger lines. Few authors could have presented such a mass of historical detail and intimate information of the life of Rome in a single volume with such fine realistic effect. Farrar was able to make his scholarship count in producing a noble work of fiction; while others in attempting a similar thing were only able to compile what were practically dry hand-books of Roman antiquities.
In its portrayal of character _Darkness and Dawn_ is equally true to life and history. So much is known of so many important historical characters of Nero’s time, that it becomes not only possible, but even advisable, to make use of only historical characters in a novel which deals with this period. Realizing this, Farrar dispensed almost entirely with imaginary characters. But he selected a large number of historical characters representing all ranks and conditions of life. And since some of these are taken from humble life, and do not play an important part in history, the author found it necessary to describe the course of their lives from his own imagination, aided by his thorough knowledge of the life of the time. It proved, for example, a very happy device to devote a considerable part of the narrative to a description of the wanderings of the runaway slave, Onesimus; for by this means the author was able to bring in many incidents, showing the variety of experiences that even a Roman slave might have. Onesimus is in fear of crucifixion; and is actually sentenced to the recognized punishment for a certain offense, of being thrown into the sea, sewed into a sack with a dog, a cat, and a viper. He also meets the King of the Grove at Aricia, a circumstance which reminds one of perhaps the most “pagan” of pagan customs surviving in the vicinity of Rome, as late as the time of Nero. Only a few of Farrar’s characters are unimportant historically, while the mere names of the others remind the reader of history. Agrippina, Nero, Seneca, Burrus, Pomponia, Acte, Poppæa, Tigellinus, St. John, and St. Paul are all important historical figures. Farrar relates with accurate historical detail all the necessary facts concerning them; but he really brings them out of the realm of mere history, and makes them stand before one as real men and women like ourselves.
Where Farrar particularly excels is in his portrayal of the development of character; and in his delineation of the aspect which a conspicuous character will assume in the presence of death or of a great emergency. The portrayal of the development of Agrippina’s character is particularly fine, even though death takes her from the scene. She is shown as a character who combines strength of determination with a marked weakness in certain other ways. Her determination is shown in the pursuit of her ambition to gain and hold absolute power. Her weakness is seen to increase from the time when she begins to realize that Nero no longer feels her influence. She finally sinks to abject despair when she becomes certain that the nearness of her death is only a question of time. The changes of Nero’s character are also portrayed with masterful strokes. At first he is an ingenuous, sweet-natured boy, guided in the main by the advice of Agrippina and of his tutor, the philosopher Seneca; he only gives, in occasional fits of temper, the vaguest suggestions of what he was to become later. Farrar is careful to show that in passing from the sphere of boyhood to manhood and the duties of imperial office, Nero carried with him a certain puerility,—indeed remained puerile until his death. The author also shows how the germs of the most contemptible qualities of Nero were really fostered by Agrippina, who, while weakly pampering him, little realized how soon he would outgrow her control. Nero’s degeneration into the cruel monster and shallow buffoon well known to history is fearlessly painted by Farrar. His contemptible fear of death, and self-pity when death is certain, though suggested by history, are brought home to the reader with a realistic effect surpassing that of any merely historical narrative. Somewhat in contrast to Nero’s death is that of Seneca, who was compelled to commit suicide by Nero’s decree. Seneca meets death with the resignation of a pagan philosopher, but perhaps not with true heroism. It remains for the Christians, St. Paul and St. John, to enable the author, by a simple narration of their suffering, to portray the unflinching courage and sublime hope of truly great characters in their hours of trial. Neither the stories of these two saints nor that of Nero’s living torches, is overdone, however. Nor is undue use of the sensational made in the revelation of the orgies at Nero’s revels, and the description of scenes in the arena. The author simply shows Christianity in the lives of a few historical characters such as St. Paul, St. John, Pomponia, Acte and Onesimus; he is not unfair, and is thoroughly accurate, in his portrayal of the pagans. He gives impartially both sides of the picture,—the light and shadow which the title of his novel implies. Its portrayal of human life, Christian and pagan, and its revelation of human character, give _Darkness and Dawn_ the right to share with _Hypatia_ a position of preeminence among English novels describing life in the Roman Empire, and owing their value in large part to the scholarship of great preachers.
Canon Farrar’s other great novel was called _Gathering Clouds_ (1895), and has for its scene Constantinople in the days of St. Chrysostom. Besides the fact that the date of its story is rather late, the scene of the novel makes it inadvisable for us to consider it at length; especially since the author’s other novel has just furnished ample evidence of his ability to portray life at Rome; and he could gain nothing by transferring the scene to Constantinople. Alexandria, in which much of the scene of Kingsley’s _Hypatia_ is laid, has been considered as the metropolis of a Roman province. But Constantinople in Chrysostom’s time was not in a province of the Western Empire, but was the capital of the Eastern Empire. And, while there are many interesting parallels to life at Rome to be found in novels dealing with Constantinople, as capital of the Eastern Empire, it has seemed best not to consider such novels in detail, in a discussion of the novel of Roman life. In fact, the only other important English novel, which has for its scene Constantinople when Rome still remained capital of the Western Empire, is Sir Henry Pottinger’s _Blue and Green_. This is a realistic story of the riot arising between the two factions, partisans of the rival colors of the chariot-racing companies, but unfortunately is now out of print.
There remains one other novel of Roman life written by a preacher, which deserves especial consideration. This is the Rev. Sabine Baring-Gould’s _Domitia_. If one asks why this novel is especially to be considered, the answer is once more to be found in a realization of the author’s scholarly attainments. _Domitia_ reveals a careful and minute study of Roman history, and especially of Roman private life. It is full of information regarding the life, habits, and dress of Romans in the time of Nero and Domitian. Instead of burdening his pages with footnotes in fine print, the author conceived the idea that such information could be contained in separate paragraphs and inserted bodily into the narrative; and in carrying out this idea he was so successful that the wealth of information conveyed without serious interruption of the narrative, gives _Domitia_ its distinguishing characteristic. When a Roman galley is mentioned in the story, the author inserts a paragraph describing such a galley; when a funeral is to take place, he inserts a similar description of a Roman funeral,—and so with other details of Roman private life and custom. History is inserted into the narrative in the same way, but the author wisely refrains from making too great a use of history. The time with which his novel deals includes part of Nero’s reign and all of Domitian’s; the interval between them is covered briefly. The most dramatic historical episodes narrated are the death of Nero and the death of Domitian, but other scenes taken from history are realistically portrayed. Nero and Domitian are also the most important historical figures, and their characters are well brought out. The heroine of the novel, Domitia, the wife and supposed cousin of the Emperor Domitian, is not very important in formal history; but from a few hints given by history, the author has drawn a character thoroughly human, and such as might have lived at the time. Her mother, representing the frivolous and self-seeking type of Roman matron, is thoroughly characteristic of the time of Domitian. Her father, the soldier who has given his life to his duty to his country, represents by his character the old Roman virtues, which still survived in the hearts of a few men. While Domitia becomes a Christian, her story is not so told as to emphasize Christianity unduly; and in telling it, the author has given us a notable novel of Roman life, sound in its history and its revelation of Roman private life, and presenting a story of human interest.
Baring-Gould also wrote _Perpetua_ (1897), a novel which suggests something of Roman life. Its subject reminds one that he edited _The Lives of the Saints_ with an erudition which shows his knowledge of Roman life. _Perpetua_ is the story of a Christian martyr to the later Roman persecution at Nimes, in the Roman province of Gaul. The Emperor Caracalla, by whom the edict for this persecution was issued, does not appear in the story, and, of course, the life in the provincial town of Nimes only vaguely suggests life in the capital. But some customs are represented, which had spread from Rome throughout the provinces. Since _Perpetua_ was published the year before _Domitia_, it is probable that their author had some things in mind when writing the former, which he did not use until he wrote the latter novel. Nimes was selected for the scene of _Perpetua_, because the author had visited the town and become familiar with its history and archæology. He was thus able to reconstruct accurately the life of its people, as they thronged the festival of the local divinity, or crowded into the amphitheatre to witness persecution of the Christians. Roman paganism is seen to be losing its grip, since the pagan citizens do not all take the local god very seriously. The element of “magic” in pagan superstition is seen in the deception practiced by the priestesses of the god; they make his voice sound over the town by shouting into a trumpet-shaped amplifier, which magnifies the sound. Another familiar element in the novel of Roman life is seen in the labyrinth motive, which appears when the hero of the story makes his escape from the prison through a dark, vile, and tortuous drain. Christianity, while it appears to be still weak, if one looks upon some of the wavering converts who are represented, is seen to be growing in strength, when one realizes the unyielding faith of Perpetua, and of a few others. But too much is not made of Christianity, and Baring-Gould’s novel is not to be considered a story of religious instruction. _Perpetua_ is chiefly important to our subject in that it suggests the work which its author was to do in his other novel, _Domitia_. There is little use made in _Perpetua_ of important historical events or characters. The heroine’s name, “Perpetua,” was suggested by that of a martyr of the persecution at Carthage, whose story is well known, and does not belong to the history of Nimes. Since the publication of _Domitia_, no very important novel of Roman life has been written in English by any great scholarly preacher. Many other preachers have written books of considerable merit, which portray something of Roman life; but further discussion of these books is withheld, since they are primarily stories of religious instruction, or are intended only for younger readers.
B. THOROUGHNESS IN SCHOLARSHIP, RESULTING IN PART FROM THE INFLUENCE OF SUCH GERMAN SCHOLARS AS BECKER,—BECKER’S “GALLUS”