I have not read the essay which Hall Caine wrote on the poetry of Rossetti, and which was the means of bringing the two men together, but I can very well imagine what it was in the poet that attracted him. Different as the two men seem to be in almost every particular save their mutual love of Beauty, there is one common trait which bound them together: they were both strangely and strongly attracted towards the supernatural and spiritual. There is an air of mystery, of unknown and unseen terrors and forces in Rossetti’s poetry that is also breathed in the earlier novels of Hall Caine. To this very day, Hall Caine is a firm believer in many of the phenomena which, by ignorant people, are placed in the category of spiritualism. For instance, he believes in second sight. On several occasions he has himself had distinct and indisputable warnings of accidents some minutes before they actually happened. A case in point occurred the day previous to my last visit to Greeba Castle. A young lady was bicycling through Greeba on the way to Peel. She was “scorching,” but, so far as one could judge, had complete command over her machine. Mr Caine happened to be in the road at the time with a friend, and as the lady passed he turned to his companion and said: “That girl will meet with an accident before she has turned the corner!” They watched her for a minute or so with interest, and then everything happened as the novelist had predicted. She collided with an unsuspecting cow, which appeared from some unseen place, and fell to the ground almost insensible. I could, if it were necessary, produce other instances of the exercise of the somewhat mysterious faculty for foreseeing which have come within my own observation.
Rossetti was always powerfully attracted by the supernatural, as, indeed, men of imagination usually are, and this mutual attraction undoubtedly served to bind the two writers together. Caine’s attraction to and study of Coleridge had undoubtedly prepared him for the advent of Rossetti, for the mystic imagery, the finished technique and the mandragora-like spell of the earlier poet were reproduced in detail by the later. Again, the supernatural in Shakespeare had received Caine’s particular study, and throughout his life it has been a powerful factor in stirring up his imagination.
In 1882—the year of Rossetti’s death—appeared Hall Caine’s Recollections of Rossetti, which has already been referred to several times in this chapter. For this he received forty pounds. The book made something of a sensation in the literary world, owing chiefly, or perhaps entirely, to its subject, and the intimate nature of its revelations, but it did not in the least enhance its author’s reputation among the large body of general readers. Mr Caine does not to-day regard this product of his earlier years with any feeling of respect. It was edited with the kindest and best possible intentions by Rossetti’s friends and relatives, and many important changes were insisted on. I myself have read the original version side by side with that which was eventually published, and I have not the least hesitation in saying that the unedited account which Mr Caine wrote of his relations with his revered friend is vastly superior to that with which the public is familiar.
Before I leave Rossetti and turn to the novels of the subject of this monograph, I should like to give a letter of the late Mr Robert Buchanan, addressed by him to Mr Caine after reading the latter’s obituary notice of his friend in the Academy. To all who know anything of the life of Rossetti, it will prove of exceptional interest, for it bears directly upon one of the causes of his premature death, and throws fresh light on one of the most widely-discussed episodes of nineteenth-century literature.
“30 Boulevard Ste Beuve,
“Boulogne-sur-Mer,
“France, May 18 [1882].
“Dear Sir,—I have read with deep interest your memorial of poor Rossetti, and been particularly moved by your passing allusion to myself. I don’t know if your intention was to heap ‘coals of fire’ on my head, but whether or not you have succeeded. I have often regretted my old criticism on your friend, not so much because it was stupid, but because, after all, I doubt one poet’s right to criticise another. For the rest, I have long been of opinion that Rossetti was a great spirit; and in that belief I inscribed to him my ‘God and the Man.’
“I suppose it was lack of courage which kept me from putting his name boldly on the preprint of my book; but had I dreamed he was ill or ailing, how eagerly would I not have done so! Still, I cannot conceive anyone mistaking the words of that dedication. Some people have been foolish enough to take it as addressed to Swinburne; but every line of it is against that supposition. I wonder now, if Rossetti himself knew of, and understood, that inscription? Perhaps you could tell me, and to ask you I write this letter. It would be a sincere satisfaction to me to know that he did read it, and accepted it in the spirit in which it was written.
“I am here on my way to Paris, but after this week my address will be uncertain. A letter sent to 30 Queen Anne St., Cavendish Square, will always find me.—I am, dear sir, yours faithfully,
“Robert Buchanan.
“T. Hall Caine, Esq.”