Ancient Rome in the English novel: a study in English historical fiction

by Randolph Faries

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.”

Perhaps the most notable scene in A Friend of Caesar is the historical one in the Curia. In this the destinies of the Roman Republic are shown to be in the hands of its own unscrupulous government, just as much as they are later in the hands of Caesar; this scene is truly great, and contains no apparent inconsistencies. The scene in which Agias is saved by Fabia, is modelled somewhat on a similar scene between Onesimus and a Vestal in Canon Farrar’s Darkness and Dawn, as Mr. Davis candidly says in his preface. The scene depicting the riot in Alexandria, especially the passage which shows how little the brutal Roman soldiers care for the lives of the poorer citizens, recalls a similar scene in Hypatia. But A Friend of Caesar contains very little direct borrowing from previous novels of Roman life, and does not rely too much upon historical events as a means of obtaining realistic effect. The scene in which trusty old Mamercus guards the door of the villa, is a masterpiece in its description of hand-to-hand fighting, and excels, in its realism, the description of the actual battle between the forces of Caesar and those of Pompey. In its portrayal of character, and its presentation of realistic scenes, A Friend of Caesar is a novel which rests firmly upon its own merits.

George Manville Fenn was not a teacher, but his book for boys, Marcus, the Young Centurion, (1904), is given passing mention here, since, like Mr. Davis’s novel, it deals with Julius Caesar. Fenn’s book tells something of Caesar’s campaigns in Gaul, but a far better book on this subject is The Standard Bearer; a Story of Army Life in the Time of Caesar, (1915), by Mr. Albert Carleton Whitehead. This book tells very realistically the story given in Caesar’s Commentaries, but is rather a book for boys than a novel of Roman life.

The Unwilling Vestal, (1918), by Mr. Edward Lucas White, a teacher and thorough scholar of Baltimore, Maryland, was quite evidently written to show that life in ancient Rome was essentially “modern.” While this novel mentions historical events, such as the campaigns of Marcus Aurelius, and gives a most striking portrayal of the effects of the great pestilence at Rome, it does not attempt to narrate historical details so much, as to make the life and customs of ancient Rome seem familiar and real to the modern reader. It has achieved this latter purpose by presenting Roman life chiefly as it affects a single character, Brinnaria the Vestal. It is true that the figure of Marcus Aurelius appears in the novel, and at the close of the book Commodus plays an important part; Almo, the charioteer, is a character of whom we hear much at second-hand, but we seldom make a closer acquaintance with him, and even the descriptions of his fights in the amphitheatre are lacking in realistic effect. The Vestals, with whom Brinnaria is later associated, are given natural and human qualities, but do not play any very important part. The Unwilling Vestal is a character-study, a study of one character. The other characters are important only as they influence the principal one. Moreover, the varied scenes of Roman life which are portrayed center about the principal character. Hence, most of them have to do with the life of a Vestal. This is shown to be far from a narrow or confining life. In addition, the author seems justified in selecting for his Vestal a person so independent, self-willed, and unusual as Brinnaria. Her parents play little part in the story, and from the very first, she shows a disposition to “go it alone.” By devoting so much attention to Brinnaria, and emphasising her human qualities, whether virtues or faults, the author has succeeded in making us feel that we know Brinnaria well. It seems to be a part of the author’s purpose to convince us that Brinnaria and her chum Flexinna are not essentially different from the modern American girls we see and know; and so he gives us a thorough acquaintance with Brinnaria, the girl, before introducing us to Brinnaria, the Vestal. There are no really great scenes in The Unwilling Vestal. In attempting to recall any such, one thinks at once of the scenes in the amphitheatre; but here, as elsewhere, we are concerned with Brinnaria, her feelings, and her interests.

While Almo, the charioteer, comes before us directly only a few times, the story, (indirectly told), of his career as charioteer, gladiator, villicus, and King of the Grove, affords opportunity to throw interesting sidelights on things that took place here and there in the world of the Roman Empire. For example, a concise and accurate account of the way in which the racing companies were managed, is given. An interesting account is given of Brinnaria’s occupations inside the Temple of Vesta, and, as has already been indicated, it is shown that, besides being a Vestal, she was an important figure in the social life of Rome. The author says:

She took great delight in mixing in society merely for society’s sake. Moderns are likely to imagine that the Vestals of ancient Rome were nuns, or something like nuns. They were nothing of the sort. They were maiden ladies of wealth and position, whose routine duties brought them into familiar association with all the men important in the Roman government, hierarchy, nobility, and gentry, and with their wives and daughters.

Though The Unwilling Vestal fails to present some of its scenes with realistic effect, because of the lack of a sufficient number of characters of different kinds, its author does portray some very interesting things in Roman life, through the medium of a single interesting character and a very real one. Mr. T. Everett Harré had given a vivid picture of life in Roman Alexandria, while presenting only one important character, in Behold the Woman, (1916), two years before; but the character of Mary, while intensely human, is not intended to show especially “modern” traits of character. Brinnaria in The Unwilling Vestal, is made to seem in some ways more familiar to the modern reader, and more like his modern acquaintances, than any other single character in any novel of Roman life, written before Mr. White’s book. Besides being an interesting novel, The Unwilling Vestal is so accurate in its description of Roman life and custom that it could be used as a schoolbook of great value. Finally, the so-called “modern scientific touch” is given in the crucial scene of the story, in which Brinnaria exonerates herself by carrying water in a sieve,—something which the author had seen done in a series of accurate experiments. The Unwilling Vestal is original in style, and does not seem to depend on previous novels of Roman life in any way. Its omission of any mention of the Christians, makes it easier for the author to portray truthfully the life of Pagan Rome.

In The Unwilling Vestal, (1918), Mr. White had told many interesting things about Roman life, but in limiting himself to a single important character, whose experiences are narrated in the third person, he sometimes had failed to make the reader feel a share in the life of Rome, as an eye-witness of the scene, or even a participant in it. Such a realistic effect he actually attained in Andivius Hedulio, Adventures of a Roman Nobleman in the Days of the Empire, (1921). This improvement he brought about in part by introducing a large number of characters from all ranks and conditions of Roman society, thus “presenting, in a narrative fiction, a complete and faithful depiction of all the phases, high and low, of that life which made up the grandeur which was Rome.”[33] And most of the numerous characters are made just as familiar to the reader as Brinnaria had been made in The Unwilling Vestal. But this is not the only means taken by the author to make his novel realistic; and the realistic effect is made complete by the fact that the adventures of Hedulio are narrated in the first person by a character who has the entire sympathy of the reader. While not a great believer in newspaper reviews, I am willing to admit there is some justice in the high praise made by “G. W. D.” in The Evening Public Ledger, Philadelphia. After comparing Andivius Hedulio to Salammbo, he says of Mr. White’s novel, “The history is so subtly interwoven with the narrative, that it becomes an integral part of it. The attention of the reader is concentrated on the human relations and the characters are men and women kin with the men and women of the present century. Mr. White has made the past live as if it were the present. Or to put it another way, he has abolished time, and has exhibited to us the unchanging human emotions playing upon one another in Rome of the second century, just as they play upon one another in America of the twentieth century. He has not once yielded to the temptation to display his eruditions at the expense of the story, a temptation to which so many learned men succumb when they try to write historical fiction. They succumb because they lack the instinct of the story teller, and do not realize that a novel must be a human drama first, whatever else it may be, whether a study of manners or of morals or a picture of the world in a historical epoch.... There is nothing that people are more interested in than in other people.”

Any adverse criticism of Andivius Hedulio would most naturally be directed against the somewhat loose construction of its plot. The plot of the novel imagines the young Roman nobleman wrongly suspected of conspiring against the life of the Emperor Commodus. Fleeing for his life, he passes eleven years in various disguises, never getting very far from Italy and returning again and again to Rome, through one chance or another. As the author says in his Note to the Reader, “The plot ... has a general resemblance to the ancient Milesian tales; as, for instance, that on a version of which Shakespeare based his Comedy of Errors. More definitely it is affiliated with the plot of the Metamorphoses of Apuleius... Much of the plot shows derivation from romances of the Picaresco type, or approaching that type... The atmosphere of the adventures collectively is indubitably that of the Satiricon of Petronius, along with much from the Metamorphoses of Apuleius.” Much of the plot, says Mr. White, came from his assuming that there was a fashionable litter-craze at Rome, “a fad of wealthy fops for journeying by litter instead of by travelling coach... Much of the minor incident and local color derives from my saturating myself with what survives to us of Roman roadbooks.” In a sense Andivius Hedulio is a romance of the road. In reading the novel, I was much impressed by the author’s genuine delight in strange, unexpected, but not improbable adventures, and was reminded much of certain aspects of the romances of Robert Louis Stevenson; it was no surprise to discover later that I had overlooked its dedication “To Robert Louis Stevenson, who in reading fiction loved ‘The open road and the bright eyes of danger.’” Moreover Mr. White, like Stevenson, realized that the best way to tell a story, especially a story of adventure, is to tell “one thing after another.” This is the way it was done by the authors of the Milesians, of the Metamorphoses, and of the “picaresque” romances. Such works have their place in the line of ancestry of the modern novel, and the author is entirely justified in using them,—somewhat expurgated,—since often they portray life in a very realistic way. It cannot be said that Andivius Hedulio excels such great novels as Ben Hur and Darkness and Dawn, in portraying the life of the Roman world with realistic effect. But the author’s genius, in making the experiences of characters of the Roman world seem essentially like our own experiences, and those of our friends, makes this novel excel most other novels of Roman life in this respect.

Andivius Hedulio is the work of a scholarly teacher of Latin, who wished to throw a strong light on the life of the historical period of Commodus’ reign; and especially to present Commodus in the character of “the most perfect athlete the world ever produced, misplaced on earth’s greatest throne.” Mr. White’s novel is in no sense a school-history book, such as Mr. Davis’s A Friend of Caesar; but any school-boy could read it with pleasure, and learn from its sound scholarship, much, that would aid him in his classical studies. Commodus is the most important historical figure, and, as the author says, the part he plays in the novel is due in part to what is said of him in the work of Gibbon, Dio Cassius, and Herodian. While other sources mentioned by Mr. White in his Note to the Reader, show a wide reading and a thoroughness of scholarship, the novel itself is sufficient evidence of this, and is entirely free from slavish copying. He frankly admits that the culminating incident in the chariot races originated partly from certain details in the chariot race in Ben Hur, (1880). But this incident is given a peculiar originality, by the addition of details taken from the account given to Mr. White of a “run-away” accident, which actually occurred in Baltimore. This illumination of the past, by placing in a story of the past an incident which has recently occurred, often aids a novelist in attaining realistic effect, and illustrates one of the ways Mr. White has taken to make the past seem real to present-day readers. The labyrinth motive appears in Andivius Hedulio, when the hero and his faithful servant make their escape from a secret stair, and through a long, dark and filthy drain. This incident was suggested by the escape of Jean Valjean in Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables, and Baring-Gould may have taken a similar incident in Perpetua from the same source.

Commodus’ joy in driving his horses to victory in the chariot races and in displaying his skill in the amphitheatre, is well portrayed by the author; but perhaps the greatest stroke in the portrayal of Commodus, is made, not when he is governing horses, or overcoming single opponents, animal or human, in the arena, but when he is controlling the minds and passions of the army of mutineers. While Commodus is not the technical hero of the story, he is the real hero of the novel, and in a fine character-study he is represented as the man who really controlled the Roman world, whether addressing soldiers and courtiers, or impressing the populace by his skill in the arena. But besides presenting life at the court of Commodus and in the higher social circles at Rome, with which the Emperor was definitely connected, the novel takes one through the streets of Rome and into different quarters of the city, in such a way as to illustrate the life of all classes of Roman society; and presents with fairness most of the various types of human character, which were to be found in the city of Rome itself and in various parts of the Empire. Since the Christians were comparatively few in number, even as late as the time of Commodus, (and the life of Rome was still essentially pagan), the author wisely refrains from any attempt to give them a place in his story. He says of Andivius Hedulio, “Especially I judged it free from vital anachronisms. I know of no fiction dealing with Rome or Greece which does not project-back later ideas of duty, right and wrong, morality and such like ethical concepts, into periods far anteceding those in which these conceptions developed. The Greeks and Romans had very definite notions as to personal morals, decency, duty, and the like, but many of the ideas most prevalent among us originated since Roman times and were then non-existent and inconceivable.” It would be beside the mark to cry “paganism,” against Mr. White’s Andivius Hedulio, since paganism is exactly what he wished to portray. In some respects this novel excels any other previously discussed, in its portrayal not only of the outward life, but of the social and ethical atmosphere of pagan Rome. And its teacher-author has been eminently successful in showing, to school-boy and mature reader alike, “all the phases, high and low, of that life which made up the grandeur which was Rome.”