Gardenhire. It is called by its author _A Tale of the Great Apostle_,
and is dedicated to the Rt. Rev. Ethelbert Talbot, Bishop of Central
Pennsylvania. _Lux Crucis_ is, more than any other novel I know
of, an attempt to portray Roman life by taking as much material as
possible from previous novels of Roman life. Everything is thus taken
at second-hand, without recourse to original sources. This method may
show wide reading, but hardly shows thorough scholarship. Scenes in the
arena depend upon _Quo Vadis_; scenes which have to do with St. Paul and
Christian characters suggest _Ben Hur_ and _Darkness and Dawn_; while
other passages, especially that representing the gladiator’s school,
undoubtedly go back to _The Last Days of Pompeii_. The author takes his
history, chronology, and topography at second hand, and apparently he is
confused in his remembrance of his own reading. The result is that _Lux
Crucis_ probably contains more ridiculous mistakes than any other novel
of Roman life. For example, a so-called Briton is given the Anglo-Saxon
name of Ethelred, though he lives in the time of Nero, before the Saxon
invasion of Britain; he is made to come from Brittany, though Armorica
did not receive that name until at least six hundred years later; and he
speaks of crossing the channel to Angle-land, “with a smile.” (The reader
also smiles.) An anachronism which is related to topography occurs, when
the Forum of Trajan is mentioned in this story of Nero’s time, though the
accession of Trajan did not take place until thirty-three years later.
These typical instances of error in _Lux Crucis_ are selected from a
great number, some of which are almost equally bad. It is remarkable
that, in spite of these inconsistencies, the novel is pleasing in its
portrayal of characters, historical and non-historical, and many of its
scenes are by no means devoid of realistic effect. _Lux Crucis_ furnishes
examples of the pitfalls awaiting an author who has attempted a piece of
work requiring scholarship, but has been handicapped by his unscholarly
methods.
Mr. Walter S. Cramp’s popular novel, _Psyche_ (1905), describes the Rome
of Tiberius, and contains much sound history taken from the _Annals_ of
Tacitus. In this it resembles Graham’s _Neaera_, which had appeared in
1886. In 1913 Mr. Cramp published another novel of Roman life, called _An
Heir to Empire_, which is much like _Psyche_ in its general outlines,
except that the story centers in the life of Augustus’ court, instead
of in the life of the court of Tiberius. It makes no great misuse of
history, but adds too many fanciful details to historical episodes;
this in spite of the fact that the novel is formally dedicated “To the
Honorable Rodolpho Lanciani, whose genius touched the dust and ruins of
Ancient Rome and made them live.”
F. INFLUENCE OF FRENCH NOVELS OF ROMAN LIFE
Hitherto no mention has been made of the influence of French novels of
Roman life upon English novels of Roman life. And I have found that
this influence of French novels is not nearly so important as might be
supposed, but on the whole, is rather an indefinite thing. But before
concluding our survey of the “popular novel” of Roman life and the
“gorgeous romance,” it is best to say a few words, (regarding the latter
phrase especially), of the influence of certain French novels. In 1862
Gustave Flaubert’s famous _Salammbo_ appeared in the English translation.
While this great work undoubtedly had a tremendous influence as a
“gorgeous romance,” it is difficult to trace this influence directly.
_The Gladiators_ (1863) appeared the following year, and exhibits a
similarity of style in presenting the gorgeous pageantry of the past;
but while _The Gladiators_ may owe something to _Salammbo_, it seems
more likely that Whyte-Melville’s novel was an independent effort to
please a certain element of the public taste. Later and greater novels,
such as _Ben Hur_ and _Quo Vadis_, may have profited by the splendid
example of Flaubert, who filled a large canvas with brilliant colors,
but did not sacrifice truth,—but here again the influence is indefinite.
In fact, _Salammbo_ appears to have stood forth with such tremendous
power that it discouraged rather than encouraged imitation. No one,—so
novelists have thought,—could hope to equal Flaubert’s novel in splendor
of style or in realistic effect. Thus _Salammbo_ has remained the only
great novel whose scene is ancient Carthage. Though its scene does
not go to Rome, no view of Roman life would be complete without some
knowledge of the most powerful enemy of the Roman Republic, whose
life was so closely connected with that of Rome. _Salammbo_ combines
the story of a Carthaginian princess, a sister of Hannibal, with an
account of the Mercenary War. The description of this war of Carthage
with her own soldiers, suggests troubles Rome later had with armies
composed of heterogeneous elements. _Salammbo_ is equally vivid in its
description of the pagan customs of Carthage, particularly of the custom
of offering human sacrifices to Moloch. A few books which describe
the city life of Carthage, or her wars with the Romans, no doubt owe
their inspiration indirectly to _Salammbo_. G. A. Henty’s excellent
book for boys, _The Young Carthaginian_ (1886), describes the political
organization and social conditions existing in the city of Carthage, and
gives a similar description of the sacrifice to Moloch, before taking
Hannibal on his campaign against Rome. _The Lion’s Brood_ (1901) has its
scene entirely in the Italian peninsula. Recently Señor Blasco Ibañez
published _Sonnica_ (1920), which seems to show evidence of his reading
of _Salammbo_. In this novel Hannibal’s siege of the semibarbaric city
of Saguntum recalls Flaubert’s description of the siege of Carthage
by the Mercenaries. _Sonnica_, besides giving a good characterization
of Hannibal, is especially noteworthy for its accurate portrayal of
the stern, bare, and crude city of Rome in the early days of the
republic. This portrayal contains a fine paragraph on the Roman father,
and mentions several historical characters, such as the vindictive
Cato and the slave Plautus. _Sonnica_ does not appear as yet to have
influenced novels of Roman life in English, though it may have given
some suggestions to Mr. Jaquelin A. Caskie, who has written _Nabala_
(1922), an attractive novelette, dealing with the Third Punic War. More
likely _Nabala_, (as everything else in fiction connected with Hannibal
and Carthage before her fall seems to do), goes back for its principal
inspiration to _Salammbo_. Its scenes of fighting outside the city of
Carthage recall similar scenes in _Salammbo_, as does its description of
what goes on inside the city, the human sacrifice to Moloch furnishing
the climax of the story.
A novel written in quite different style by Flaubert is _The Temptation
of St. Anthony_ (1874). This has for its scene the cell of an anchorite
in the time of Constantine, since St. Anthony says in the novel, “The
Emperor Constantine has written me three letters.” In describing the
visions[31] which pass through the mind of the saint, however, the
author makes it seem as though the entire pageant of the past history
of the Roman Empire were passing before his eyes. In his temptation the
saint sees pagan gods pass before him, and he takes on the personality
of famous kings, with their unlimited power to gratify their passions.
In his mental wanderings, he speaks of Athanasius, the Arians, and the
monks of Nitria. This last thought recalls the part which the savage
monks of Nitria play in Kingsley’s _Hypatia_, and the talk of other
affairs of the Church also suggests _Hypatia_. Moreover, the situation
of St. Anthony alone in his cell in the desert is strongly reminiscent
of passages at the beginning and the end of Kingsley’s novel. But St.
Anthony’s strongest temptation comes in the form of the vision of Thais,
an irresistibly beautiful courtesan. This suggests M. Anatole France’s
(Jacques Anatole France Thibault) _Thais_ (1889), which also makes a
portrayal of the beautiful courtesan. Custom forbids English and American
novelists from making such a portrayal in detail, and it is to be doubted
whether they could present such a picture with the realism of French
authors, whose view-point has always been radically different, as regards
the degree of frankness to be allowed a novelist in portraying a man’s
passion for a beautiful woman. The portrayal of the beautiful courtesan
in the French novel of Roman life reaches the greatest frankness in
Pierre Louys’ _Aphrodite_, which is, in effect, a description of the
schools of prostitution in Roman Alexandria. French novels of this kind
have had little effect on novels of Roman life written in English.
However, there is one novel written by an American of French descent,
which frankly tells the story of a beautiful courtesan, and will now be
discussed.
Mr. T. Everett Harré published in Philadelphia in 1916 _Behold the
Woman_. This is the story of the famous Alexandrian courtesan of
transcendent beauty, who is known in the _Lives of the Saints_ as St.
Mary of Egypt. Mr. Harré takes the general outlines of his story from the
_Lives of the Saints_, though adding much from invention. And, while
_Behold the Woman_ shows an individuality of style and a remarkable
power of description, it appears to be a book full of echoes. There is,
for example, some similarity of plot between _Behold the Woman_ and the
_Thais_ of M. Anatole France, in that both novels portray the repentance
and regeneration of the fallen woman.
M. France in _Thais_ had been said to combine “a curiously subtle
piety of imagination with impiety of thought.” (B. W. Wells in _The
Encyclopedia Americana_, 1920.) Whether this criticism is just or not, as
applied to _Thais_, it must be said most emphatically that Mr. Harré’s
work shows absolutely no impiety of thought. In presenting the facts of
life in the Roman world, in _Behold the Woman_, he is making a simple
statement of the truth. Piety of imagination is indeed displayed in the
story of Mary’s conversion and life of penitence in the desert. But
even in such a scene as that in which the supposed room of the Lord’s
Supper is desecrated by the orgy of the fallen monks, the author shows
no impiety of thought. Nor, if one sets aside questions of religion, and
rests his faith on mere morality, can the charge of immorality be brought
against _Behold the Woman_ with any sincerity whatever. In certain scenes
of _Behold the Woman_ there appears evidence of a direct borrowing
from Pierre Louys’ _Aphrodite_, in which there had been an elaborate
description of the bath and toilet of the courtesan, with an extensive
catalogue of her charms in symbolic language. In _Behold the Woman_ the
scenes attending the destruction of the temple of Serapic remind one
of Ebers’ _Serapis_, which had described similar scenes. But Mr. Harré
particularly excels in describing with minute touches the superstition
of the Roman soldiers, who were called upon to destroy the temple and
its huge idol, but feared to do so. Moreover, the brutal conduct of the
military on this occasion and at the breaking up of the banquet at Mary’s
palace, well represents the ruthless use of Rome’s mighty power. There
also appear to be in _Behold the Woman_ some slight suggestions taken
from Kingsley’s novel, _Hypatia_, the same proper names being used,
but transposed; the name of Philammon, Kingsley’s hero, is given to a
character in _Behold the Woman_, who corresponds to one of the minor
characters in _Hypatia_. Moreover, the scenes of riot in the streets
of Alexandria, which appear in _Behold the Woman_, are reminiscent of
similar scenes in _Hypatia_. The two books represent the savage monks in
a similar way; and Mary is able to see through their sham Christianity,
just as Philammon saw through the pretenses of the monks, in _Hypatia_.
But as Mr. Harré says in his preface, he does not agree with Kingsley
that “one who writes of such an era ... cannot tell how evil people
were.” Here he is quoting the preface of _Hypatia_, though he does not
say so. In _Behold the Woman_, he does tell how evil people were; and
justly remarks in its preface that the novel is one for strong men and
fearless women, not for children. The description of the orgy at the
banquet in Mary’s palace is perhaps as realistic a portrayal of such a
scene as is made in any novel of Roman life; but the frankness of this
description is certainly very nearly equaled in Canon Farrar’s _Darkness
and Dawn_, a novel which no one would think of calling immoral in any
sense of the word. The description of Mary’s sordid life in the Brucheum,
the slum quarter of the city, is also realistic, and portrays a side of
life which has been neglected by the authors of novels of Roman life,
even when they claimed to be presenting life among all classes of society.
Other scenes in _Behold the Woman_ are similar to those which are already
familiar in the novel of Roman life. And no matter what he is describing,
the author’s genius and originality have enabled him to portray scenes
from life in Roman times, with a vividness and realism hardly exceeded
in any novel of Roman life. The style of _Behold the Woman_ is richly
ornamental at times, but never too flowery for the theme which the author
has in hand. _Behold the Woman_ could be placed in the class of the
“gorgeous romance” along with such novels as _Ben Hur_ and _Quo Vadis_.
But it shows, more than any other novel of Roman life in English, the
influence of the French novels of which we have spoken.
G. NOVELS WRITTEN BY TEACHERS OF ROMAN HISTORY OR OF THE CLASSICS
Some of the novels which have been mentioned were written by school
teachers or college professors. Charles Kingsley at the time when he
wrote _Hypatia_ was a school teacher very much in need of more pupils,
whose fees would help him make both ends meet.[32] The Rev. A. J. Church,
M. A., to whose books for boys allusion has been made, was a Professor
of Latin at University College, London. But I wish to consider now those
novels which have been written by teachers, who wished especially to
illustrate certain periods of Roman history, or to make the life of some
great Roman historical character stand out with particular vividness.
The word “novels,” as here used, is meant to apply in the main to books
which can be read with pleasure both by boys and their elders; and it
will be recalled, that in defining the novel of Roman life, books written
only for boys, or written with a religious motive, were excluded. The
work of the Rev. A. J. Church is therefore excluded, practically for two
different reasons. But, since it often touches closely the true novel of
Roman life, the titles of some of his books will be mentioned. His _Two
Thousand Years Ago_ (1885) has been spoken of, as following Eckstein’s
_Prusias_ (1884), which is also on the Spartacus theme; but Church’s
book is entirely a book for boys. _The Count of the Saxon Shore_ (1887)
is a similar book on the period marking the end of Roman control in
Britain. _To the Lions_ (1889) makes the same use of the correspondence
between Trajan and Pliny that had been made in _Valerius_; but its scene
is Bithynia, and it is purely a religious story. _The Burning of Rome_
(1892), as has been said, follows Eckstein’s _Nero_ (1889), but even
this book by Church cannot be called a novel, though it is his best
book. _Lords of the World_ (1898) describes the fall of Carthage and
Corinth. Finally, _The Crown of Pine_ (1905) tells of the banishment
of the Jews from Rome in the time of Claudius, of the preaching of St.
Paul, and of the Isthmian games at Corinth. The style of this last book
is characteristic of the Rev. Church’s work; his thorough scholarship is
greater than his power to interest the reader, juvenile or otherwise.
A novel (for so it fully deserves to be called), written before the Rev.
Church’s books, is _Helena’s Household_ (1858). This is by James De
Mille, Professor of Belles Lettres at Dalhousie College, N. S. Though
it has been catalogued as a juvenile book, it hardly deserves this
description. And while it is dedicated to the Rev. John Pryor, D. D., and
shows some influence of the story of religious instruction, it deserves
to be classified as a novel of Roman life. _Helena’s Household_ has a
very good historical background, and contains some very fine descriptions
of life at Rome. The story of Boadicea’s defeat is told by a Briton who
was taken captive on that occasion. This same Briton is made to fight
in the arena, in a scene which is fairly well done. This mention of a
British slave, and the outline of the siege and destruction of Jerusalem
at the end of the novel, suggest _The Gladiators_ (1863), a novel which
resembles De Mille’s book in its rambling construction. Nero’s atrocities
are in the main passed over, though there is a fine description of the
great fire at Rome, which he is said to have caused; and the buffoon
Emperor is described as acting at the games in Greece. Pomponia is not
made a very important character in the story, but her Christianity is
made the excuse for entirely too much religious talk, for a novel of
Roman life. St. Paul and St. Luke are represented as prisoners, and
a fine description is given of St. Paul’s heroic death, though his
martyrdom is not the central theme of the story by any means. Moreover,
the life of the Christians is realistically described, without the false
element of terror, which is often added to such descriptions. In spite of
its rambling construction, and religious discussion, _Helena’s Household_
is a scholarly piece of work, which both illustrates Roman history, and
portrays well the life of Rome. _The Martyr of the Catacombs_, (1858), by
De Mille, is more a religious story than a novel.
A fine illustration of Roman history is given in _Kallistratus; an
Autobiography_ (1897), a novel dealing with the campaigns of Hannibal
against Rome. This is not to be considered an imitation of Flaubert’s
_Salammbo_, or any other novel dealing with the Carthaginians, but is
an independent attempt to illustrate certain facts of Roman history.
The author of _Kallistratus_ was Mr. A. H. Gilkes, M. A., Master of
Dulwich College, Dulwich, and the preface to the novel is written
from the College. _Kallistratus_ need not be considered a book for
boys, and is infinitely better than most books for boys. But its hero,
Kallistratus, is a typical boys’ hero, who serves as Hannibal’s aide
and personal attendant. Besides telling the story of the Second Punic
war from Hannibal’s point of view, _Kallistratus_ presents with a very
realistic effect an account of the chicanery of an ancient oracle, which
is located on the banks of the Rhone near Massilia, and is consulted by
a Gallic chieftain. Hannibal’s victories over the Romans are accurately
described, and attributed in part to Varro, the low-born consul, as they
should be. Moreover, the fact that Kallistratus’ brothers and sisters are
sent to Rome under the protection of the Scipios, affords the author an
opportunity to describe life at Rome to some extent. While the character
of the great Hannibal does not stand out with especial force in this
novel, _Kallistratus_ gives a truly realistic account of his campaigns
from the point of view of one who was with him; and it may well have
served as a model in many ways for Mr. Duffield Osborne, when he was
writing _The Lion’s Brood_, (1901), a novel which treats of the same
period from the Roman point of view. Mr. Gilkes’ other novel, _Four
Sons_, (1909), seems to lapse into more juvenile style, mainly because
its subject is not so inspiring. But it illustrates very faithfully the
period of Roman history which was marked by the inroads of the Greeks in
Southern Italy and the Samnite War. The author’s interest in books for
boys and the school life of boys, is shown not only by the profession he
has chosen, but also in the genuine book for boys he has written, called
_Boys and Masters_. But of the books he has written, _Kallistratus_
especially, would be of interest to any intelligent reader, juvenile or
otherwise.
_A Friend of Caesar_, (1900), by William Stearns Davis, a college
professor, whose scholarly attainments have won for him a well-deserved
reputation, is the first and, in my opinion, the only book which
successfully illustrates with the most minute detail every important
event or incident in a brief period of Roman history (50-47 B. C.),
crowded with important events,—and at the same time presents a fictitious
story of supreme interest, surpassing that of most historical novels. It
is in fact, the world’s best school-history book in the form of fiction.
Mr. Davis was well qualified to write such a book, by his experience
in writing in briefer form stories meant to aid in the study of Roman
history in schools and colleges,—his parallel readings have been widely
used by other teachers. _A Friend of Caesar_ is a very scholarly piece
of work by a very scholarly man; and it is absolutely accurate in its
history, presenting everything which a school-boy may be expected to
learn in his study of Roman history and life of a definite period. Yet,
while it is very slightly expurgated of grosser elements, it is in no
sense a book for boys alone, but a _novel_ which can satisfy the taste of
the most mature readers. Mr. Davis has thus succeeded in combining, in a
single volume, elements which other authors have found it very difficult
to combine. _A Friend of Caesar_ is in fact a novel of Roman life in the
best sense in which that phrase can be used. As Mr. Davis says in his
preface to the novel, “If this book serves to show that classical life
presented many phases akin to our own, it will not have been written
in vain.” This sentence shows the highest possible conception of the
function of the historical novel. In portraying life at Rome at the time
of the fall of the Roman Republic, Mr. Davis (in his preface) disparages
his own work in comparison with that in _Quo Vadis_; he says that he is
taking the pagan point of view rather than the Christian. But, judged
purely from a consideration of the necessity for accurate scholarship,
_A Friend of Caesar_ is a far more thorough work than _Quo Vadis_; and,
while containing a number of scenes of great dramatic value, it does not
rely unduly on the melodramatic and the sensational. In matters requiring
minute and careful scholarship, it is possible that Mr. Davis goes too
far; there are times when the reader feels that it is becoming _too much_
a school-book. Yet this insistence on detail, while leading to possible
faults, also assures the principal virtue of _A Friend of Caesar_, its
absolute reliability.
Julius Caesar himself is the most important figure in this novel. The
finest and noblest points in the character of this great man, among the
world’s great men, are emphasized; while his defects are entirely left
out of the picture. The resulting character of Caesar in the book is thus
idealized to some extent, but perhaps not too much so for the purpose of
a novel. Caesar appears as the hero, great statesman, and controller of
the world’s destinies that he was. The technical hero of the story is
Quintus Livius Drusus, and he is a typical boy’s hero; his history is
given in a way which arouses interest and associates him closely, in the
reader’s mind, with Caesar. Cleopatra seems to have been an important
character in the author’s mind, mainly because she played an important
part in history. Her personality is viewed in a somewhat more attractive
light than might be expected, and as a character she blends well with the
idealized character of Caesar. The weaker side of Pompeius’ character
is emphasized, and he is not brought into the foreground enough to be
considered a really important character. The manner of his death is well
portrayed in ch. XXII, “The End of the Magnus.”