CHAPTER XVII

SOME PERSONAL ITEMS

It is pretty generally known that when Sir Theodore Martin desired, in honor of Lady Martin’s memory, to place a Helen Faucit memorial in the chancel of Trinity Church, Stratford-on-Avon, it was Miss Marie Corelli who undertook a successful campaign against the project. Sir Theodore Martin most ardently wished to execute his intention, and he had progressed so far with the negotiations that his desires were on the point of being carried out; and they would have been but for the active intervention of Miss Corelli, who roused the whole town of Stratford into energetic protest against the proposed invasion of Shakespeare’s own particular shrine. It was Sir Theodore’s idea to place a bas-relief of Helen Faucit immediately opposite the historical bust of the Poet, on the other side of the chancel, but in an equally if not more prominent position.

Miss Corelli began her campaign with a letter to the _Morning Post_ calling public attention to Sir Theodore’s plan, and the whole Press backed up her efforts with hearty unanimity. The late Sir Arthur Hodgson had taken the chief responsibility of supporting Sir Theodore Martin, but in his haste and zeal had forgotten to ascertain whether he could legally remove from the wall of the chancel two mural tablets which occupied the intended site of the proposed Helen Faucit effigy. The then Bishop of Worcester, Dr. Perowne, a great personal friend of Sir Arthur’s, was persuaded to grant a “faculty” for their removal, without due inquiry. Miss Corelli, however, discovered the descendants of the very family those mural tablets belonged to, and found that their permission had not been sought, or their existence considered. Whereupon the law promptly stepped in, and Sir Theodore Martin was compelled to withdraw. Otherwise the modern stone-mason would have gone to work in the hallowed precincts of Shakespeare’s grave, and a piece of wholly unecclesiastical sculpture would have overlooked the Poet’s place of family sepulture, a place which Shakespeare himself purchased for his own interment, and which all the world of literature rightly considers should be left to his remains, uninvaded.

The bas-relief of Lady Martin, had it been put up, would have shown her figure turned with its _back to the altar_, the medallion of Shakespeare lying at her feet! The whole thing was out of place, and out of tune with the national sentiment, as though Helen Faucit was an eminent actress in her day, she had no connection with Stratford-on-Avon; moreover, she was not British-born. Miss Corelli’s fight was a hard one, for though Mr. Sidney Lee, who was entirely on her side, wrote to Sir Theodore Martin himself to expostulate with him on the mistaken idea he had taken up, nothing would have had any effect had not Miss Corelli fortunately discovered the descendants of the family whose mural tablets were about to be displaced without their permission. When she at last won the day, the whole Press broke out unanimously in a chorus of praise and congratulation, which must have been a singular experience for her, so long inured to disparagement. She was bombarded by telegrams from almost every quarter of the globe, particularly from America, expressing the thanks of all lovers of Shakespeare.

It is a pity some one like Marie Corelli was not in Stratford-on-Avon at the time Shakespeare’s own house, “New Place,” was demolished. Had there been such an one, the chances are that the house would be still standing as one of the world’s priceless treasures. Many precious shrines are defaced, and many valuable mementoes lost for lack of some one to speak out who is not afraid to give an opinion. Shakespeare’s townspeople are grateful to the novelist who fought their Poet’s cause single-handed, and won it in the face of powerful opposition.

* * * * *

Concerning the portraits of Miss Corelli, her experiences have not been particularly pleasing. It will be remembered that a large oil painting of the novelist was exhibited at Messrs. Graves’ Art Gallery, Pall Mall. This portrait was painted for two reasons: first, because Miss Corelli knew at the time of its execution that she was the victim of a serious malady which might, it was then feared, shortly end her life; and secondly, because she wished to leave some resemblance of herself to her dearest friend, Miss Vyver.

Miss Donald-Smith painted the picture and also executed two “pastel” portraits. Miss Corelli gave several sittings to the artist at a time when her illness was causing her the acutest agony, and when the hours thus spent in the studio were to her a perfect martyrdom. At Miss Donald-Smith’s request she permitted her to send the large picture to the Academy, where it was rejected. It was then exhibited by Messrs. Graves, and was at once made the subject of personal and abusive attacks, not on the artist, but on Marie Corelli herself for being painted at all! Some journalists went so far as to accuse her of “taking the gate-money” and “speculating in her own portrait.” As a matter of fact, Miss Corelli received none of the percentage allowed on the photogravures of the picture, and it may be added that she withdrew the picture altogether from public view before it had been long on exhibition.

Another portrait was painted by Mr. Ellis Roberts for himself. He asked Marie Corelli to sit for him, having always been one of her greatest admirers. He did not, of course, know that she consented to sit for the same primary reason as for the other--namely, that she did not then expect to live more than a few months--and that she wished to bequeathe some “presentment” of herself to those who might care for it. Mr. Roberts is probably not aware to this day that she was often almost fainting when she left his studio after a prolonged “sitting.” He has never seen her since she recovered her health and good spirits: if he had, it is probable he would wish to make another sketch of her.

We may add that Miss Corelli still declines to allow a portrait of herself to be published--a decision which we regret. For many are the “surprises” that have been given to those expectant of meeting in the novelist a severe literary woman with spectacles and a bilious complexion. It may be truly said that Marie Corelli is very light-hearted, always high-spirited, and full of fun; people who represent her as morbid, brooding on her own “sorrows,” or grumbling at the world in general, have never seen her, and can form no idea of her disposition.

She is really a most charming lady, a most hospitable hostess, a delightful _raconteur_, a brilliant musician, a woman of broad views and large sympathies, a true and staunch friend, always glad to do a kindly action.

* * * * *

After the record-breaking success of “The Master Christian” and the world-wide discussions following the publication of that famous book, the editor of a magazine addressed the following communication to Miss Marie Corelli:

INDD “DEAR MADAM,--

“I venture to ask whether you would kindly undertake for us a review of Mr. Hall Caine’s new book, ‘The Eternal City’?

“Your own novel on a somewhat similar theme leads us to believe that a criticism of Mr. Caine’s book from your pen would be of great interest and of singular literary value. I suggest that it might run to three or four thousand words, for which we would be ready to pay an _honorarium_ of fifty guineas.”

Vastly entertained by this proposition, and seeing very clearly through the evident “hole in a millstone,” the novelist replied promptly:

INDD “DEAR SIR,--

“I cannot but admire the astute and businesslike character of your request; but I do not write ‘reviews.’ Nothing would ever persuade me to criticise the work of my contemporaries. Moreover, my book, ‘The Master Christian,’ is not at all on the same theme as ‘The Eternal City.’ Mr. Hall Caine treats of Rome,--I, of the Christ. The two are direct opposites.

“‘The Eternal City’ is recognizably inspired by and founded on Zola’s ‘Rome,’ in which great work the ‘religious message’ of Mr. Caine’s novel is fully set forth. The idea of a democratic Rome under a democratic Pope is Zola’s ‘own original’ and belongs to Zola alone. Wherefore, let me suggest that you should ask M. Zola to review the work of his English _confrère_!”

* * * * *

When Sir Henry Drummond Wolff made Miss Corelli’s acquaintance he was rather struck by the somewhat lonely and incessantly hard-working life of the young novelist at the time of “Ardath"‘s publication. Her beloved stepfather was dying by inches--failing gradually every day, and her hours were consumed by anxiety, work, and watching. He asked her if he could introduce her to any one in London she would like to know. After a few moments’ reflection, of all people in the world she chose Henry Labouchere! “I don’t want anything from him,” she said; “I’m not after a notice in _Truth_. I want to know _him_, because I’m sure he is unlike anybody else.”

The introduction was given, and the result of it was that she became very intimate with the editor of _Truth_, with Mrs. Labouchere, and with Miss Dora Labouchere. They were among those good friends who, with Miss Vyver, helped to rouse her from the shock and nervous prostration following on the sudden death of her stepbrother, George Eric Mackay. Mr. Labouchere has never been known to try the satiric edge of his tongue against his “little friend,” as he calls her; and she is always a most welcome visitor to his house in Old Palace Yard.

* * * * *

Quite lately there has been a singular journalistic incident which must be considered as particularly unfortunate, having regard to some of Miss Marie Corelli’s previous experiences of newspapers. A “private and confidential” letter, written by her to the editor of a ladies’ paper, was published by that editor in his journal with the appendage of a very discourteous reply. The incident arose out of the Highland gathering at Braemar, at which place Miss Corelli had been staying for some weeks. This gathering, which was honored by the presence of his Majesty, was attended by Miss Corelli and a party of friends. Miss Corelli, as her thousands of readers have no need to be told, did not require, or seek for, a “mention in the papers” in consequence of her attendance at the function. Had she done so she could easily have paid for it in the “fashionable announcements.” She attends many gatherings in connection with which her name is never mentioned, but she does not write complaints--confidential or otherwise--on that score. Some people like to suggest that Marie Corelli, whose circle of distinguished personal friends is remarkably large, is more or less friendless and without social surroundings, a suggestion that, pitiful as it is, is somewhat amusing to those who are favored with her close acquaintance.

On the occasion in question Miss Corelli wrote a note marked “private and confidential,” asking the editor of the ladies’ paper not “why her name was not mentioned,” but “why it was omitted”--a distinction with a difference in this case--for she happened to be the hostess of a party whose names were included in the newspaper notice, and who were surprised and indignant at the fact that, whilst their names were mentioned, that of their notable hostess was left out. It was at the suggestion of one of these that Miss Corelli wrote the “private and confidential” letter which the editor, without consulting her, rushed into print. The result of her harmless inquiry is well-known. The publication of the communication brought a shoal of letters to the famous author from men and women of “light and leading,” assuring her of their sympathy in this outrage. Amongst the writers of these letters were several very distinguished journalists, a fact which lends emphasis to Miss Corelli’s knowledge that, notwithstanding her tilts with the Press, the bulk of the journalists of the country do honor to their profession and totally disapprove of such an act as the publication of a “private and confidential” communication. We hear that printed slips containing her letter to the editor in question, and the latter’s reply, were sent by some one for circulation through the town of Stratford-on-Avon. Such a proceeding, whoever

was responsible, could have been followed with only the one object of endeavoring to make Miss Corelli appear in an unfavorable light before the neighbors and friends among whom she resides.

It is pleasant to learn that this precious campaign entirely failed. The editor of the local journal, the _Stratford-on-Avon Herald_, duly received his slips of this correspondence, the hope probably being that he would reproduce them in his journal. He however took no notice of these “hand-bills”; and the good citizens of Shakespeare’s town generally are far too conscious of Miss Corelli’s affection for them and unfailing sympathy in all their interests, to feel anything but unmeasured contempt for any effort to injure her in their esteem. People hastened to call at Mason Croft and express their indignation at the treatment she had received, and they found her, as usual, busily working, happy and unconcerned. To one friend, an M.P., who expressed his views on the subject with considerable expletive, she said quietly, “Oh, well, it really doesn’t matter! The editor has condemned himself by his own action. My letter, asking merely why my name was omitted, was quite a harmless epistle, surely? It scarcely merits an imprisonment in the Tower!”

_The Daily Express_ acted somewhat curiously on this occasion. Having copied the whole of the “private correspondence,” it was suggested that this paper might possibly be laying itself open to penalties of the law for “breach of copyright.” Whereupon haste was made to send the following telegram to Miss Corelli: “Have asked our correspondent to call upon you. We will print with pleasure any statement. Sorry our article did not please you. Would like to make amends.--_Daily Express._

The desire, however, to “make amends” does not appear to have been very hearty, because soon afterwards a second article on the subject appeared in _The Daily Express_, stating that there was “no law to prevent the publication of a private and confidential letter,” unless it bore a legal “confidential stamp.” And at the same time Mr. Pearson wrote to Miss Corelli to say that he thought the editor who had published her “private and confidential” note was “perfectly justified” in his action! But there can be no possible justification for publishing a letter of confidence. Business would be impossible under such circumstances. The mistake Miss Corelli has made in the past has been to condemn the Press and pressmen for the shortcomings of individuals who represent only themselves and not a profession. She has been misunderstood on the matter, but her hearty good-will to journalists is well-known to many of the craft who are proud to be within the pleasant circle of her intimate friends.

* * * * *

A section of the Press finds pleasure in accusing Miss Corelli of “self-advertisement.” If it were at all true that she has any proclivities that way, she would surely accept the frequent and urgent offers made to her to lecture in the United States, on almost fabulous terms.

Again, a chance for “self-advertisement” offered itself to Miss Corelli in the invitation of Edinburgh, last year, to open the Home Industries Exhibition, in Waverley Market. People hoped for her coming, and urgent letters were sent to her assuring her that she would receive a splendid welcome. Miss Corelli, however, declined the tempting proposal, which, if the “advertising” accusations were in any way well-founded, seems a short-sighted waste of opportunity on her part. As a matter of fact, she seldom takes the chances of notoriety that are so frequently offered to her; but it would be easy to name a dozen or more periodicals which are glad to make advertisements for themselves out of some specially contrived attack upon her. The public, however, sees through this, and, understanding the motives of action, are all the more loyal to Marie Corelli and her work. Britishers are famed for their love of “fair play,” and the spectacle of several able-bodied men engaged in steadily “hounding” a woman who has made her way without their assistance by the fuel of her own brain and energy, does not appeal to the majority. They see no fun in it, but only an exhibition of cowardice.

While on this subject, it may be mentioned that as soon as certain sections of the Press discovered that Marie Corelli was among the favored few who had received an invitation from the King to be present in the Abbey at the Coronation on August 9th, she was bombarded with letters and telegrams from several newspapers entreating her to write for them her “impressions” of the great ceremony. To all these applications she gave no answer. Her silence on such an occasion rather discounts her supposed “love of notoriety”! Truth to tell, her presence at the Abbey, as a guest of the King, created in some quarters quite a riot of fury.

“We hear,” said one paper, “that Miss Marie Corelli was among the King’s guests in the Abbey! Marvelous! No doubt she wore a gown as gorgeous as her love of self-advertisement could make it!” Poor Miss Corelli! In the very simplest attire of white chiffon and lace, she was one of the most unobtrusively dressed ladies present, as she wore no jewels, and had nothing indeed about her costume that could attract the slightest attention, though she was the “observed of all observers” at the luncheon held in the House of Peers after the Abbey ceremonial, not for her dress, but for her fame.

Another incident may be aptly quoted here. When the King was attacked by his serious illness, the enterprising manager of a newspaper press agency made haste to write to Miss Corelli saying that it was necessary to “prepare for the worst,” and would she therefore write her “impressions” of the King,--which meant, of course, an obituary notice! To which the novelist replied with considerable warmth that she had too much immediate concern for the dangerous condition of her Sovereign, as well as too much honor for him, to “make trade” for the newspapers by writing “obituary notices” of his life before he was dead! By the grace of God, she said, he would be spared to the Throne for many good and happy years to come. Such is the real spirit of the woman whom her more than malicious enemies accuse of “disloyalty” and “desire for advertisement.” It is a satisfaction to give a few truths of her real disposition as opposed to the unfounded falsehoods that are circulated about her. As a single example of her womanliness and womanly sympathies, it may be mentioned that no one has yet written a tenderer tribute to the virtues of the Queen than Marie Corelli in “The Soul of Queen Alexandra,” published last year in her “Christmas Greeting.”

* * * * *

Two letters which were addressed to Miss Corelli by eminent preachers who have since passed away are of interest. In explanation of their inclusion it should be mentioned that Dr. Campbell, the successor of Dr. Parker at the City Temple, was exceedingly anxious to persuade Miss Corelli to open a great Nonconformist bazaar in the Dome during the early part of last November. She would have been perfectly willing to do so had there not been a great agitation just then in the press concerning the Education Bill, for she judged that had she performed any special ceremony in any prominent way for the Nonconformist cause, she would again have been singled out for unfair attack.

For several days she hesitated, her whole inclination being to help the charity so urgently and eloquently pleaded for by the Rev. Dr. Campbell. During this time of indecision, however, she was made the subject of a violent discourse from the pulpit of a Nonconformist minister in another part of the country. This appears to have formulated her final resolve, for she wrote to Dr. Campbell, regretting her inability to comply with his request, and enclosing the “sermon” on herself from one of his own persuasion, concerning which she said that under such circumstances her opening of the Bazaar might do the cause more harm than good.

Dr. Campbell, disappointed, but not dismayed, renewed his persuasions and prevailed upon several of his distinguished personal friends to write to the novelist and urge her to alter her decision. Among those who did so were Dr. Joseph Parker and the Rev. Hugh Price Hughes, to both of whom the sermon against the novelist had been sent for perusal. Dr. Parker wrote to Miss Corelli as follows:--

HAMPSTEAD, _October 6th, 1902_.

DEAR MISS CORELLI,--

I have just received a letter from my friend Campbell, and though I have to rise from my bed to write this note, I gladly make a very great sacrifice. I do not know the preacher whose sermon you send. I never even heard of him. Campbell I do know--refined, cultured, high-minded. Let me entreat you to serve my true and good friend. What need you care for such an attack? You do not live on the same plane as that nameless man. I read your book[D] with inexpressible delight; why not pay more attention to my praise than to another man’s slander? Now do send me a wire or a card or a letter, and say that you will open the Bazaar at Brighton.

Very tired, Very dispirited, Ever sincerely and hopefully yours, JOSEPH PARKER.

The note from the Rev. Hugh Price Hughes ran thus:--

MEMORIAL HALL, FARRINGDON STREET,

LONDON, E. C. _October 6th, 1902_.

DEAR MADAM,--

I find that my friend, Mr. R. J. Campbell, of Brighton, has asked you to open a Bazaar in the Dome. I take the liberty of expressing a very earnest hope that you will be able to comply with Mr. Campbell’s request. Mr. Campbell occupies a quite unique position among us, and any kindness shown to him will be a kindness to us all.

I am, dear Madam, Yours sincerely, HUGH PRICE HUGHES.

MISS MARIE CORELLI.

Miss Corelli, however, who was just at that time being made the subject of some particularly venomous attacks concerning her romance, “Temporal Power,” felt compelled to maintain her refusal, though much to her own great disinclination and regret--a regret that we share, for we should like to be able to record that she opened the bazaar after all.

* * * * *

The following letter, which deals with a critique on “Temporal Power,” is most interesting from the point of view that it was written by one lady-novelist in defense of another; it possesses all the more weight seeing that Mrs. Rentoul Esler is an entire stranger to Miss Corelli.

THE ETHICS OF CRITICISM

_To the Editor of the “Sunday Sun"_

Sir,--When a new book appears there are only two points on which the reading public requires enlightenment. These are the subject of the book and the manner in which that subject is handled. All else is apart from the best interests of literature, and the literary life. When a book from Miss Marie Corelli is issued it seems the fashion in press circles to discourse largely and loosely of the writer and to say little or nothing of her work.

The abuse poured on this lady seems to do the sale of her books no harm--it may even increase it--and the supposition is suggestive--but as books and the making of them have an interest apart from the commercial one, it seems time that a protest be made against the unworthy treatment to which one individual is habitually subjected. I have no personal acquaintance with Miss Corelli, and her books give me no more pleasure and no less than do those of Mr. George Meredith, whom your critic seems to place in antithesis to her, this also being the fashion of the moment; it is not in defense of a favorite writer that I wish to express an opinion, but in defense of those qualities that render criticism an honorable calling.

The heading of the critique in your issue of August 31st, and the introductory section, were alike unworthy of a literary paper and of the pen of a gentleman. The charges of self-advertisement are insulting and untrue. There are few writers who owe as little to the paragraphist as Miss Corelli, while the flouts and jibes flung at her because her books sell extensively are merely stupid. The size of an edition of any book depends on the publisher’s knowledge of the demand that awaits it. It might be better, in the interests of literature, to keep commerce and literary merit in separate compartments, but as long as such critical organs as _The Bookman_ make a regular feature of tables of sales from Provincial and Metropolitan book-sellers, it is neither logical nor brave to pour vials of scorn on one writer because her publisher announces that the first edition of her book will be large.

The subject of Miss Corelli’s book seems a legitimate one; “If I were King” has appealed to the moralist, the fictionist, and the dramatist time out of mind. When a biography of this popular writer is called for, the critic may then be personal and impertinent if it seem good to him, but in connection with the discussion of a book personalities regarding its author are unfair and in the worst possible taste.

As an interested reader of the critical opinions in the _Sunday Sun_ since the first issue of that paper, I consider myself entitled to protest when a journal of such eminence descends to methods that are neither amusing, informative, nor well-bred. Even a popular writer is entitled to fair treatment, and it is of the utmost importance to every branch of literature that those who undertake to form public opinion should remember that the rostrum has obligations as well as privileges.

E. RENTOUL ESLER.

THE HEATH, DARTFORD.

Mrs. Rentoul Esler is herself a writer of distinction and power, and is thus able to express herself with the vigor and lucidity which carry conviction. Her letter is a clear call for that “Fair Play” which Marie Corelli has been demanding for so long.

* * * * *

That the novelist is well able to retort upon unfriendly critics is shown by a few verses addressed by her to _The Quarterly_ in her “Christmas Greeting” (1901). A lacerating article concerning Miss Corelli and her work had appeared in _The Quarterly_, and it drew from her the following little epigram:--

TO THE QUARTERLY

WITH THE COMPLIMENTS OF THE SEASON

Greeting, old friend! A merry Christmas time To you, who nothing merry ever see;-- Great Murderer of poets in their prime,-- Why have you struck at _me_?

With vengeful hooks of sharpened critic-steel You tortured giants in the days gone by,-- And now upon your creaking, rusty wheel, You’d break a Butterfly!

Alas! you’re far too cumbrous for such things! Your heavy, clanking axle drags i’ the chase;-- The happy Insect has the use of wings, And keeps its Sunshine-place!