In 1827 Thomas Moore published The Epicurean. This is to be classed as a romance, and is akin to and inspired by the work of William Beckford in Vathek, an Arabian Tale. Moore’s The Epicurean takes from Vathek its descriptions of Egyptian magic, and its use of the “labyrinth motive”;[13] these are things which appear in a modified form in Bulwer’s Last Days of Pompeii (1834). The Epicurean, however, in spite of its fantastic nature, contains realistic descriptions of the persecution of the Christians in Africa, under Diocletian, and a contrast of Christianity with a pagan system of philosophy (Epicureanism). While its story does not take the reader to Rome, The Epicurean represents life in Greece and Egypt under Roman rule, and must be considered a step in the genesis of the novel of Roman life. It represents new elements which are not found in Valerius, but appear frequently in later novels of Roman life. Vathek, which Moore says was his model, has been mentioned as an “Oriental” romance, this kind of romance being a variety of the “Gothic”; and when certain elements of the “Oriental” romance appear in novels of Roman life of this early period, it is more logical to ascribe their existence to the influence of Vathek than to say that they merely come from The Epicurean. But we have to consider at this point not only the influence of Vathek as a thing entirely separate from other literature of the period; for the hero of The Epicurean is the “Byronic hero,” already mentioned in connection with Mrs. Radcliffe and Byron. The terrible side of nature, which had appealed to these authors, appears in The Epicurean, combined with Egyptian “magic”; the hero in passing through the mysteries of initiation is surrounded by roaring winds and rushing waters. Thus it appears that The Epicurean, while it falls far below the first rank,[14] is important, because it shows the effect which the Gothic romance, with its various developments, was having on the early novel of Roman life.
C. THE INFLUENCE OF THE “BYRONIC ROMANCE” ON THE NOVEL OF ROMAN LIFE
In 1829[15] was first published a romance by George Croly, called Salathiel, a Story of the Past, the Present and the Future. It enjoyed wide popularity and was favorably reviewed both in England and America; and was issued at different times with variations of the title, such as Salathiel, the Immortal, or the Wandering Jew. Finally it has been revised and republished posthumously, in 1901, under the title of Tarry Thou, Till I Come, or Salathiel, the Wandering Jew. This last edition was published in somewhat elaborate style with copious introduction and appendix, and beautifully accurate illustrations, by Mr. T. de Thulstrup. Especially noteworthy is the introductory letter of General Lewis Wallace, who, in making his remarkable choice of the six greatest English novels, includes “Hypatia, and this romance of Croly’s.” While his choice of the “six greatest” is unusual, he gives very sound reasons for his support of Tarry Thou, Till I Come. General Wallace, who is best known for his Ben Hur, also wrote The Prince of India, in which he handles the theme of the Wandering Jew, describing the wanderings of the Jew in Moslem times.
Croly was born in 1780 in Dublin and died in 1860. In Salathiel he follows the school of Byron and Moore, which was dominant in his youth. The style of the book is marked by a warmth of coloring, and Croly excels in his handling of powerful situations. The character of Salathiel, surrounded by perpetual gloom, and displaying a proud aloofness from other men, has much in it of the “Byronic hero.” The terrible aspects of nature are also presented with telling effect, and much in the Byronic manner throughout the story; Croly is at his best in this sort of work in a chapter, which has been given the title The Wanderings of a Mind Diseased, and which represents the reality of Salathiel’s imaginary trials. In this chapter the description of a volcanic eruption suggests a similar description made by Bulwer in The Last Days of Pompeii, a few years later. The scene of Salathiel does not open in Rome, but from the very start, the reader feels the intensity of the Jewish hatred for Roman power. The degenerate Roman governor of Judea, Gessius Florus, is well portrayed in his capacity of extortioner and tyrant. He sends Salathiel to Rome, and at this point in the story we are given in a brief space many of the important elements in any novel of Roman life which deals with the time of Nero. There is the prisoner, calmly condemned to a death of torture, while the Emperor feigns practice on the lyre; then the fire at Rome is powerfully described, and when it is over, the blame for it is attached to the Christians; the Christians are put to death by torture in the amphitheatre, or torn by wild beasts; they are made to serve as living torches in Nero’s gardens; and finally the persecution ceases. Though his name is not mentioned, the martyrdom of St. Paul is told in such a way as to portray his indomitable spirit and courage in the face of death.
The scene of the remainder of the story is again laid in Judea, and the story of events culminating in the capture of Jerusalem by a Roman army, is taken from Josephus.[16] In this part of the book things Roman are best represented by the figure of the Prince and commander, Titus, and by the soldiers and officers of the Roman army. The divisions of the Roman army are described with great realism, recruited as they are from almost every tribe and nation under the sun. The fierce struggles between Roman and Jew outside of the walls, give opportunity for some of the finest pictures of desperate fighting to be found in any novel. The “labyrinth motive,” one of the oldest motives in story telling, is used a number of times in the latter part of Salathiel; it is used with much ingenuity in the description of his entrance into the fortress of Masada by a secret underground passage; and again, when, escaping from prison, he finds he has blundered upon the secret rear entrance of the pirates’ cave.
Salathiel is a truly great romance, in which the exalted language is suited to the grandeur of the theme. While “romance” is the proper word to describe the book as a whole, individual passages exhibit a realistic effect which far surpasses anything in the pages of Valerius or of The Epicurean. Moreover, it is sound in its historical basis, for Croly was a man of genuine learning, classic[17] and otherwise. On the other hand, it must not be supposed, because he was a curate, that he wrote Salathiel with any intention of spreading religious propaganda. The scene in which the Christians, imprisoned and awaiting crucifixion, exhibit their supreme faith, is one of tremendous significance; but this could be said of many other scenes in the book. Even if it were not a story of absorbing interest, Salathiel would deserve a high position in fiction, for its illustration of great principles in life, and its powerful revelation of eternal truths.
D. THE NOVEL OF ROMAN LIFE IN A FULLY DEVELOPED FORM
In 1834 was published Bulwer’s[18] Last Days of Pompeii, which probably has been as widely read, and for as long a period as any other historical novel. Men still live who consider Bulwer among the greatest of English novelists; and if one were to select only one book for which he is especially remembered, I believe The Last Days of Pompeii would have equal claims with such a novel as The Last of the Barons, to which critics usually assign a higher place. The Last Days of Pompeii was a new thing of its kind; it represents a new departure in the historical novel, and in the novel of Roman life. It is true that there remain in it certain elements of the Byronism, which was still so prevalent in the novel of the day, but these elements cannot merely be dismissed as defects. There is the Byronic passion for the terrible in nature, which reaches its height in the unsurpassed description of the eruption of Vesuvius, and its terrible effects. The “Byronic hero,” moreover, can easily be seen in the disguise of Arbaces, the Egyptian, who is surrounded by an air of mystery, and has a lofty scorn of the common herd of mankind. Moreover, Arbaces, to secure his ends, has recourse to Egyptian “magic,” the intricacy and subtlety of which had been well represented in The Epicurean. Such motives as these, however, have already been discussed, together with their relation to the novel of Roman life. Let us see what Bulwer added to this particular variety of the historical novel.
It will be recalled that Scott (who must be considered Bulwer’s most important predecessor in the field), in writing his historical novels, always made use of historical characters and events, as well as of purely imaginary characters and events. Bulwer departed from this program, in the first instance, by reducing the number of historical events,—the eruption being the only important one. Moreover, he succeeded, with no loss of effect, in replacing the “historical” characters, which are usually necessary to the historical novel, by imaginary characters such as he perceived would be in harmony with the time he described. This omission of “historical” characters is to be accounted for by Bulwer’s choice of scene. Having chosen Pompeii (and not Rome) for his scene, and finding there were no “historical” characters suitable for a novel portraying the life of this brilliant Campanian city, he decided to make up for their absence by lending an almost “historical” reality to his imaginary characters. Scott had made his imaginary characters appear to be real men and women by reproducing real men and women whom he had observed; Bulwer, in writing The Last Days of Pompeii, undertook the more difficult task of representing men and women who might well have lived in the times of ancient Rome,—and succeeds rather well. Around these characters he decided to weave a narrative which would reproduce exactly the life of the time,—and in this he succeeds admirably. Scott had been warned by the mistake made by the antiquary, Joseph Strutt, in a misuse of antiquarian details. Bulwer was an antiquarian of an entirely different sort; he revelled in the use of details, but in putting them into his story, made the whole conduce toward realistic effect. He had read widely in Latin and Greek literature; he climbed Mt. Vesuvius and learned all he could by actual observation, filing every detail in huge commonplace books; he studied Roman antiquities, and compared the results of his study with the manners of modern Italians. In short, he realized in his imagination the decadent life of Pompeii as it had actually been just before the eruption of Vesuvius, and reproduced it in the pages of The Last Days of Pompeii. While Bulwer, therefore, did not reproduce historical characters and events in quite the same way that Scott did, he makes an even more concrete use, than Scott did, of that life of the past which is not recorded in formal history. He views the past from the standpoint of the philosopher as well as from that of the student of human nature. Moreover, he seeks for permanent truths in human nature, rather than for merely picturesque elements.
The title and subject of The Last Days of Pompeii, was first concretely suggested to Bulwer’s mind by a picture of the same title. This picture, he says in his journal, was one of a collection in the Brera Gallery at Milan, and was “full of genius, imagination and nature. The faces are fine, the conception grand.” And as the author says in his Preface to the 1834 Edition, having chosen for his subject the “catastrophe, the Destruction of Pompeii, it required but little insight into the higher principles of art to perceive that to Pompeii the story should rigidly be confined. Placed in contrast with the mighty pomp of Rome, the luxuries and gaud of the vivid Campanian city would have sunk into insignificance. Her awful fate would have seemed but a petty and isolated wreck in the vast seas of the imperial sway.” Bulwer therefore decided to avoid the temptation “to conduct the characters of his tale ... from Pompeii to Rome,” leaving “to others the honor of delineating the hollow but majestic civilization of Rome.” The last part of this quotation is especially important to us. Bulwer in his preparatory studies spent much time in Rome, as well as in the vicinity of Pompeii. While the story of The Last Days of Pompeii does not actually go to Rome, all of its important elements, save the description of the eruption, could be transferred to a story of the Imperial City. Thus Bulwer’s novel not only shows that the novel of Roman life had become firmly established as a definite type, but it also points forward and shows the way for all important novels of Roman life since its time. The mingling of Romans and Italians, with Greeks and other foreigners in Pompeii, suggests the hybrid population of Rome; the worship of Isis, and her priest, the Egyptian Arbaces, suggest not only the varied forms of pagan religion at Rome, but also the important connections of Rome with Alexandria and the Nile civilization; the early struggles of Christianity (represented by Olinthus, and his converts) with these pagan superstitions recall the even greater trials of the Christians at Rome; the witch of the crater, with her spells and incantations, reminds one of the Sibyl of Cumæ and the soothsayers who appear at Rome in later novels of Roman life. The minor incidents of Bulwer’s novel and his descriptions of the manners of society also are used in novels whose scene is Rome; the banquets and revels, the life of loungers at the bath and spectators at the amphitheatre, the habits and haunts of the gladiators, the busy hum of the forum, are all things which Bulwer showed later novelists how to portray. He realized that he must not make his characters talk in the periods of Cicero, and takes without question the opinion of Scott (voiced in the preface to Ivanhoe), that the historical novelist should “explain ancient manners in modern language.” Bulwer’s method was somewhat different from that of Scott; but his purpose was essentially the same. His ideal is fairly stated at the end of the Preface to the 1834 edition, viz., to present a portrait faithful “to the features and costume of the age which I have attempted to paint. May it be (what is far more important) a just representation of the human passions and the human heart, whose elements in all ages are the same.” How well he achieved his purpose and realized his ideal is amply shown in The Last Days of Pompeii. Writers of the novel of Roman life who have followed Bulwer have surpassed him in few respects. Their purpose must be essentially the same as his; their ideal could not be higher.