HALL CAINE AS A DRAMATIST, SHORT-STORY WRITER, POET AND CRITIC
Hall Caine has written five plays, three of which have been produced.
The drama founded on _The Eternal City_ has been played for copyright
purposes only. The first of these plays was called _Ben-my-Chree_ and
was the dramatised version of _The Deemster_. I venture to quote from
an excellent biographical article by Mr Robert Harborough Sherard in
the _Windsor Magazine_ (November 1895): “Irving read the book (_The
Deemster_) in America, and seeing that there was here material for a
splendid play, with himself in the part of the Bishop, hesitated about
cabling to the author. In the meanwhile Wilson Barrett had also read the
book, and had telegraphed to Kent to ask Hall Caine to come up to London
to discuss its dramatisation. Hall Caine started, but was forced to leave
the train at Derby because a terrible fog rendered travelling impossible.
He spent the next ten days in the Isaac Walton Inn at Dovedale, near
Derby, waiting for the fog to lift, and whilst so waiting wrote the first
draft of the play. Barrett was enthusiastic about it, and _Ben-my-Chree_
was duly produced for the first time at the Princess’s Theatre on May 14
(the dramatist’s birthday), 1888, before a packed house in which every
literary celebrity in London was present. It was, however, by no means a
great success: for some unaccountable reason, it failed to ‘draw,’ and
after running for a hundred nights, it was withdrawn.” Strange to say,
it was exceedingly popular in America, and at this moment a company is
touring it in the English provinces.
His next drama, _The Manxman_, was also produced by Mr Wilson Barrett
in Leeds on August 20, 1894. It was successful everywhere “except in
Manchester and New York.” I do not quite understand Mr Caine’s statement
that _The Manxman_ was not a success in Manchester, for I myself remember
climbing up on to the top row of the gallery at the Theatre Royal (or
was it the Prince’s?) because there was no room anywhere else. On that
occasion the theatre was crowded, and the reception enthusiastic in every
way. Perhaps it was a “return visit” that I witnessed, and the Manchester
public had had time to gather its wits and become appreciative.
His third play, _The Christian_, was produced first in Albany, New York,
and afterwards in Liverpool. In this play the dramatist’s sister, Miss
Lily Hall Caine, took the part of Polly Love, and afterwards, when the
play was taken on tour, the part of Glory Quayle. This play is still
running, and meets with enthusiastic applause wherever it goes. It has
been performed in England and the United States more than two thousand
times.
In passing any criticism on Mr Caine’s plays, it must at the very outset
be confessed that he has not yet done himself justice. For my own part,
I have not much faith in the dramatised versions of novels. A plot that
lends itself to treatment in the form of a novel is very rarely suitable
for production as a drama; and until Hall Caine is inspired with the
plot of a drama that is at once cohesive and compact, it seems to me he
will never produce anything worthy of the powers which he undoubtedly
possesses. Some regard to the unities of Time and Place is necessary
before a drama can be considered seriously as a work of art, and it
must be acknowledged that Mr Caine pays very little attention to the
technique of dramaturgy. I do not for one moment deny that his plays are
full of strong and dramatic situations, that the dialogue is natural,
easy and telling, and that they are exceedingly well-constructed from
a “popular” standard; but as contributions to dramatic literature they
cannot be seriously considered. Mr Caine himself would, I feel sure,
be the first to agree with me in all this. I know that he does not
consider his dramatic work to be on anything like the same plane as his
novel-writing. It is rather a matter of surprise that a writer gifted
with so well-developed a dramatic sense should have been comparatively
unsuccessful in his plays; but, so far as one can judge, it seems
probable that this is due to the fact that he has only attempted plays
based on novels. When he shall have developed a plot which obviously
lends itself to stage treatment and no other kind of treatment, he may be
expected to write a drama which shall take the same position in dramatic
literature that his novels have attained in the world of fiction.
In the way of short story writing Mr Caine has done little. A volume
entitled _Capt’n Davy’s Honeymoon_, containing three tales, is his only
output in this direction. Their excellence, and the delicacy of their
treatment, make one regret that he has not seen fit to devote more
time to this particular branch of his art. _Capt’n Davy’s Honeymoon_
refutes conclusively all allegations that Mr Caine possesses little
or no humour. It is a Manx tale, full of delicate, beautiful touches
that create the right atmosphere at the very outset. The second story
in the volume, _The Last Confession_, is situated in Morocco, and in
form is based on Rossetti’s blank-verse poem of the same name. It is
a closely-written piece of work, quietly and soberly worked out, yet
powerful and convincing. _The Blind Mother_ is the title of the third
tale, and consists of a slightly altered episode in his second book, _A
Son of Hagar_. I quote the following extracts of the dedication to Mr
Bram Stoker:—
… Down to this day our friendship has needed no solder of sweet
words to bind it, and I take pleasure in showing by means of this
unpretending book that it is founded not only on personal liking
and much agreement, but on some wholesome difference and even a
little disputation. _The Last Confession_ is an attempt to solve
a moral problem which we have discussed from opposite poles of
sympathy—the absolute value and sanctity of human life, the right
to fight, the right to kill, the right to resist evil and to set
aside at utmost need the letter of the sixth commandment. _The
Blind Mother_ is a somewhat altered version of an episode in an
early romance, and it is presented afresh, with every apology,
because you with another friend, Theodore Watts, consider it
the only worthy part of an unworthy book, and also because it
appears to be at all points a companion to the story that goes
before it. Of _Capt’n Davy’s Honeymoon_, I might perhaps say that
it is the complement of the other two—all three being stories of
great and consuming love, father’s, mother’s and husband’s—but
I prefer to confess that I publish it because I know if anyone
should smile at my rough Manx comrade, doubting if such a man
is in nature and not found among men, I can always answer him
and say, “Ah, then, I am richer than you are by one friend at
least,—Capt’n Davy without his ruggedness and without his folly,
but with his simplicity, his unselfishness and his honour—Bram
Stoker!”
A charming dedication, is it not? and interesting as a revelation of the
motives which inspired the only three short stories we have from his pen.
_The Last Confession_ and _The Blind Mother_ were issued in America under
the title of the former. It is extremely unlikely that Mr Caine will ever
return to the short story as a means of expressing himself; the form is
of too limited a scope, and of too ephemeral a nature. A story entitled
_Jan, the Icelander_, recently appeared in one of the weekly papers; but
it was originally prepared by Mr Caine as a dramatic dialogue which, on
one or two occasions, he recited in public.
As a poet, Mr Hall Caine has a great claim to our admiration. It is true,
he has published no poetry in volume form, and little enough in the
magazines, but what has appeared is of undoubted beauty. I am able to
give here two sonnets which originally appeared in the _Academy_ in the
early eighties. Then, as now, the _Academy_ and the _Athenæum_ were the
two foremost literary papers in the kingdom, and at this time Mr Caine
was a critic on the permanent staff of both papers. It will be seen that
both sonnets reveal a deep and unusual love of Nature; and it seems to me
that that entitled _Before Sunrise on Helvellyn_ ranks with the very best
sonnets of Wordsworth. Besides its intrinsic beauty, it contains that
“fundamental brain-work” which many critics hold to be an essential of a
fine sonnet, although Mr Caine’s own criticism is that “it is wanting in
the first quality of poetic style—flexibility.”
BEFORE SUNRISE ON HELVELLYN
Over the peaks of huge crags uncreate,
Across the stricken stars’ usurped demesne,
Through mutinous vapours to her realms terrene—
Behold she comes, the morn inviolate.
Girdled with fire, radiant of face, elate,
Leaping the lit waves of the steep ravine—
Here first since eldest time the earth hath seen
Her vesture’s trail, in heaven articulate.
Say not the world grows old: Behold ere long
Forth from the mountains come the swift and strong
Who scale the heights to greet the deathless day;
And in the abysmal plains the sick and sore
Following their feet shall see the imminent grey
Glad dawn has never breathed o’er earth or shore.
This was published in the _Academy_ of January 28, 1882; the following
was published in the same paper on May 12, 1881, whilst Mr Caine was
still in his twenty-eighth year.
WHERE LIES THE LAND?—(_Wordsworth_)
‘Where lies the land of which thy soul would know?’
Beyond the wearied wold, the songless dell,
The purple grape and golden asphodel,
Beyond the zone where streams baptismal flow.
‘Where lies the land to which thy soul would go?’
There where the unvexed senses darkling dwell,
Where never haunting, hurrying footfall fell,
Where toil is not, nor builded hope laid low.
Rest! Rest! to thy hushed realm how one by one
Old Earth’s tired ages steal away and weep,
Forgotten or unknown, long duty done.
Ah, God! when death in seeming peace shall steep
Life’s loud turmoil, and Time his race hath run—
Shall heart of man at length find rest and sleep?
Other sonnets appeared at about the same time, particularly noticeable
among which are three to Byron, Keats and Rossetti respectively.
But though poetry was Hall Caine’s natural means of expression, and to
be a poet his earliest ambition, yet in his youth he recognised the fact
that in order to reach a large public some other medium than verse was
necessary. So poetry was more or less reluctantly abandoned, and fiction
soon took its place.
As a critic, Mr Caine would undoubtedly have won a foremost place among
the _littérateurs_ of our time if he had devoted his whole life to
that particular branch of his art; but soon after his thirtieth year
professional criticism was abandoned in his absorption in novel-writing.
From his earliest years the young student was a critic. He eagerly
discussed every book he read with his friends and acquaintances, and his
first contributions to the Press were in the form of literary criticism.
When Lord Houghton first saw Caine as a very young man, he prophesied for
him a great future as a critic, and there can be no doubt that his powers
in this direction are altogether exceptional. I have read a large amount
of criticism which he contributed to the _Academy_ and _Athenæum_ in the
early eighties, and I was struck not only by the mature judgment and
catholic taste displayed therein, but also by the ease and fluency with
which he expressed his views. Those were the days of signed articles, and
the curious reader may turn up for himself the back numbers of these two
great literary papers and read those articles signed “T. Hall Caine.”
He will find in them much to surprise him, for most of them are truly
remarkable as the product of so youthful a writer.
Mr Caine was particularly fortunate in obtaining a place on the _Academy_
staff. A complete stranger to Mr J. S. Cotton (at that time the editor
of this paper), he called on him and asked for employment. “Certainly!”
replied Mr Cotton, much to the young man’s confusion, for he had by no
means expected so enthusiastic a reception. The acquaintance made in this
way soon deepened to a warm friendship which is to-day valued by both men
as much as it was twenty years ago.