VII
CHRISTUS, JUDAS MACCABÆUS, PANDORA, MICHAEL ANGELO
As early as 1841 Longfellow had conceived the idea of an ‘elaborate poem ... the theme of which would be the various aspects of Christendom in the Apostolic, Middle, and Modern Ages.’ In 1851 The Golden Legend appeared, with no word to indicate that it was the second part of a trilogy. Seventeen years more elapsed and The New England Tragedies came from the press, to be followed three years later by The Divine Tragedy. The three parts were then arranged in chronological order and the completed work given the title of Christus, a Mystery.
One may guess why the first part of the trilogy was the last to be published. A bard the most indubitably inspired might question his power to meet the infinite requirements of so lofty a theme. Longfellow’s Divine Tragedy has received less than due meed of praise. It has an austere beauty. If a reader can be moved by the Scripture narrative, he can scarcely remain unmoved by this reverent handling of the story of the Christ. Through many lines the poet follows the Scriptural version almost to the letter, bending the text only enough to throw it into metrical form. Often the dialogue seems bald and the transitions abrupt because the poet allows himself the least degree of liberty. This severity and repression in the treatment are one source of that power which The Divine Tragedy certainly has.
Part two, The Golden Legend, is a retelling of the story of Prince Henry of Hoheneck. Here, Longfellow reproduces with skill the light and color of mediæval life, if not its darkness and diablerie. The street-preaching, the miracle-play in the church, the revel of the monks at Hirschau, and the lawless gayety of the pilgrims are all painted with a clear and certain touch, but in colors almost too pale, too delicate. Longfellow had not the courage or the taste to handle these themes with the touch of almost brutal realism they seem to require.
The third part of the trilogy, The New England Tragedies, consists of two plays, John Endicott and Giles Corey of the Salem Farms, one dealing with the persecution of the Quakers, the other with the witchcraft delusion. The first is the better. Edith Christison’s arraignment of Norton in the church, her trial, punishment, her return to the colony at the risk of her life, and the release of the Quakers by the king’s mandamus, followed by Endicott’s death, are vigorously depicted. The character of the governor is finely drawn, and the last scene between Bellingham and Endicott is a strong and moving conception. As he bends over the dead man, Bellingham says:—
How placid and how quiet is his face,
Now that the struggle and the strife are ended!
Only the acrid spirit of the times
Corroded this true steel. Oh, rest in peace,
Courageous heart! Forever rest in peace!