The time of Nero’s reign at Rome is so crowded with historical events of interest that Farrar was enabled to make nearly all important events in his novel, Darkness and Dawn, either absolutely true to history, or so closely connected with history, that they might actually have happened at the time when they are supposed to have happened. The few unimportant and intentional anachronisms he has made are explained candidly in his preface. The events described in the novel, though nearly all of them actually happened in Nero’s reign, represent in kind and variety nearly all events which are narrated in other important novels of Roman life. The scenes portrayed are all thoroughly typical of life in ancient Rome. Neither Christian nor pagan life is overemphasized, although a natural and truthful contrast is made of them. Scenes in Nero’s palace, in the forum, in the crowded streets of Rome, at the amphitheatre, at the law-courts, and occasionally in the fashionable suburbs of the city, or at Nero’s various resorts away from Rome, are portrayed with a fidelity which cannot be questioned. And wherever it is possible to make a scene of realistic effect out of an actual historical event, or to add historical details to a scene which significantly portrays Roman life, the author does so. Yet in spite of the fact that so many scenes in Farrar’s novel are taken from history, it is by no means made heavy or overcrowded, with historical detail. Every detail is made significant and interesting, and put in its proper place, so that the general effort is not one of laborious effort but of consummate art. The minutiae of the picture, while effective in themselves, do not obscure its larger lines. Few authors could have presented such a mass of historical detail and intimate information of the life of Rome in a single volume with such fine realistic effect. Farrar was able to make his scholarship count in producing a noble work of fiction; while others in attempting a similar thing were only able to compile what were practically dry hand-books of Roman antiquities.
In its portrayal of character Darkness and Dawn is equally true to life and history. So much is known of so many important historical characters of Nero’s time, that it becomes not only possible, but even advisable, to make use of only historical characters in a novel which deals with this period. Realizing this, Farrar dispensed almost entirely with imaginary characters. But he selected a large number of historical characters representing all ranks and conditions of life. And since some of these are taken from humble life, and do not play an important part in history, the author found it necessary to describe the course of their lives from his own imagination, aided by his thorough knowledge of the life of the time. It proved, for example, a very happy device to devote a considerable part of the narrative to a description of the wanderings of the runaway slave, Onesimus; for by this means the author was able to bring in many incidents, showing the variety of experiences that even a Roman slave might have. Onesimus is in fear of crucifixion; and is actually sentenced to the recognized punishment for a certain offense, of being thrown into the sea, sewed into a sack with a dog, a cat, and a viper. He also meets the King of the Grove at Aricia, a circumstance which reminds one of perhaps the most “pagan” of pagan customs surviving in the vicinity of Rome, as late as the time of Nero. Only a few of Farrar’s characters are unimportant historically, while the mere names of the others remind the reader of history. Agrippina, Nero, Seneca, Burrus, Pomponia, Acte, Poppæa, Tigellinus, St. John, and St. Paul are all important historical figures. Farrar relates with accurate historical detail all the necessary facts concerning them; but he really brings them out of the realm of mere history, and makes them stand before one as real men and women like ourselves.
Where Farrar particularly excels is in his portrayal of the development of character; and in his delineation of the aspect which a conspicuous character will assume in the presence of death or of a great emergency. The portrayal of the development of Agrippina’s character is particularly fine, even though death takes her from the scene. She is shown as a character who combines strength of determination with a marked weakness in certain other ways. Her determination is shown in the pursuit of her ambition to gain and hold absolute power. Her weakness is seen to increase from the time when she begins to realize that Nero no longer feels her influence. She finally sinks to abject despair when she becomes certain that the nearness of her death is only a question of time. The changes of Nero’s character are also portrayed with masterful strokes. At first he is an ingenuous, sweet-natured boy, guided in the main by the advice of Agrippina and of his tutor, the philosopher Seneca; he only gives, in occasional fits of temper, the vaguest suggestions of what he was to become later. Farrar is careful to show that in passing from the sphere of boyhood to manhood and the duties of imperial office, Nero carried with him a certain puerility,—indeed remained puerile until his death. The author also shows how the germs of the most contemptible qualities of Nero were really fostered by Agrippina, who, while weakly pampering him, little realized how soon he would outgrow her control. Nero’s degeneration into the cruel monster and shallow buffoon well known to history is fearlessly painted by Farrar. His contemptible fear of death, and self-pity when death is certain, though suggested by history, are brought home to the reader with a realistic effect surpassing that of any merely historical narrative. Somewhat in contrast to Nero’s death is that of Seneca, who was compelled to commit suicide by Nero’s decree. Seneca meets death with the resignation of a pagan philosopher, but perhaps not with true heroism. It remains for the Christians, St. Paul and St. John, to enable the author, by a simple narration of their suffering, to portray the unflinching courage and sublime hope of truly great characters in their hours of trial. Neither the stories of these two saints nor that of Nero’s living torches, is overdone, however. Nor is undue use of the sensational made in the revelation of the orgies at Nero’s revels, and the description of scenes in the arena. The author simply shows Christianity in the lives of a few historical characters such as St. Paul, St. John, Pomponia, Acte and Onesimus; he is not unfair, and is thoroughly accurate, in his portrayal of the pagans. He gives impartially both sides of the picture,—the light and shadow which the title of his novel implies. Its portrayal of human life, Christian and pagan, and its revelation of human character, give Darkness and Dawn the right to share with Hypatia a position of preeminence among English novels describing life in the Roman Empire, and owing their value in large part to the scholarship of great preachers.
Canon Farrar’s other great novel was called Gathering Clouds (1895), and has for its scene Constantinople in the days of St. Chrysostom. Besides the fact that the date of its story is rather late, the scene of the novel makes it inadvisable for us to consider it at length; especially since the author’s other novel has just furnished ample evidence of his ability to portray life at Rome; and he could gain nothing by transferring the scene to Constantinople. Alexandria, in which much of the scene of Kingsley’s Hypatia is laid, has been considered as the metropolis of a Roman province. But Constantinople in Chrysostom’s time was not in a province of the Western Empire, but was the capital of the Eastern Empire. And, while there are many interesting parallels to life at Rome to be found in novels dealing with Constantinople, as capital of the Eastern Empire, it has seemed best not to consider such novels in detail, in a discussion of the novel of Roman life. In fact, the only other important English novel, which has for its scene Constantinople when Rome still remained capital of the Western Empire, is Sir Henry Pottinger’s Blue and Green. This is a realistic story of the riot arising between the two factions, partisans of the rival colors of the chariot-racing companies, but unfortunately is now out of print.
There remains one other novel of Roman life written by a preacher, which deserves especial consideration. This is the Rev. Sabine Baring-Gould’s Domitia. If one asks why this novel is especially to be considered, the answer is once more to be found in a realization of the author’s scholarly attainments. Domitia reveals a careful and minute study of Roman history, and especially of Roman private life. It is full of information regarding the life, habits, and dress of Romans in the time of Nero and Domitian. Instead of burdening his pages with footnotes in fine print, the author conceived the idea that such information could be contained in separate paragraphs and inserted bodily into the narrative; and in carrying out this idea he was so successful that the wealth of information conveyed without serious interruption of the narrative, gives Domitia its distinguishing characteristic. When a Roman galley is mentioned in the story, the author inserts a paragraph describing such a galley; when a funeral is to take place, he inserts a similar description of a Roman funeral,—and so with other details of Roman private life and custom. History is inserted into the narrative in the same way, but the author wisely refrains from making too great a use of history. The time with which his novel deals includes part of Nero’s reign and all of Domitian’s; the interval between them is covered briefly. The most dramatic historical episodes narrated are the death of Nero and the death of Domitian, but other scenes taken from history are realistically portrayed. Nero and Domitian are also the most important historical figures, and their characters are well brought out. The heroine of the novel, Domitia, the wife and supposed cousin of the Emperor Domitian, is not very important in formal history; but from a few hints given by history, the author has drawn a character thoroughly human, and such as might have lived at the time. Her mother, representing the frivolous and self-seeking type of Roman matron, is thoroughly characteristic of the time of Domitian. Her father, the soldier who has given his life to his duty to his country, represents by his character the old Roman virtues, which still survived in the hearts of a few men. While Domitia becomes a Christian, her story is not so told as to emphasize Christianity unduly; and in telling it, the author has given us a notable novel of Roman life, sound in its history and its revelation of Roman private life, and presenting a story of human interest.
Baring-Gould also wrote Perpetua (1897), a novel which suggests something of Roman life. Its subject reminds one that he edited The Lives of the Saints with an erudition which shows his knowledge of Roman life. Perpetua is the story of a Christian martyr to the later Roman persecution at Nimes, in the Roman province of Gaul. The Emperor Caracalla, by whom the edict for this persecution was issued, does not appear in the story, and, of course, the life in the provincial town of Nimes only vaguely suggests life in the capital. But some customs are represented, which had spread from Rome throughout the provinces. Since Perpetua was published the year before Domitia, it is probable that their author had some things in mind when writing the former, which he did not use until he wrote the latter novel. Nimes was selected for the scene of Perpetua, because the author had visited the town and become familiar with its history and archæology. He was thus able to reconstruct accurately the life of its people, as they thronged the festival of the local divinity, or crowded into the amphitheatre to witness persecution of the Christians. Roman paganism is seen to be losing its grip, since the pagan citizens do not all take the local god very seriously. The element of “magic” in pagan superstition is seen in the deception practiced by the priestesses of the god; they make his voice sound over the town by shouting into a trumpet-shaped amplifier, which magnifies the sound. Another familiar element in the novel of Roman life is seen in the labyrinth motive, which appears when the hero of the story makes his escape from the prison through a dark, vile, and tortuous drain. Christianity, while it appears to be still weak, if one looks upon some of the wavering converts who are represented, is seen to be growing in strength, when one realizes the unyielding faith of Perpetua, and of a few others. But too much is not made of Christianity, and Baring-Gould’s novel is not to be considered a story of religious instruction. Perpetua is chiefly important to our subject in that it suggests the work which its author was to do in his other novel, Domitia. There is little use made in Perpetua of important historical events or characters. The heroine’s name, “Perpetua,” was suggested by that of a martyr of the persecution at Carthage, whose story is well known, and does not belong to the history of Nimes. Since the publication of Domitia, no very important novel of Roman life has been written in English by any great scholarly preacher. Many other preachers have written books of considerable merit, which portray something of Roman life; but further discussion of these books is withheld, since they are primarily stories of religious instruction, or are intended only for younger readers.
B. THOROUGHNESS IN SCHOLARSHIP, RESULTING IN PART FROM THE INFLUENCE OF SUCH GERMAN SCHOLARS AS BECKER,—BECKER’S “GALLUS”
We have made some mention of the scholarship of German writers; the Germans were not the only classical scholars whose influence is important in our study, but in some cases made an exceedingly thorough study of the private life of the Romans, and the effect of this is seen upon the English novel of Roman life. An exceedingly careful attention to minute details in the study of the private life of the Romans is seen in the work of Professor W. A. Becker in Gallus, or Roman Scenes in the Time of Augustus, published in Leipsic (1838). This is not a novel at all, though it contains some connected material in the form of fiction. The importance of Becker’s Gallus in its effect upon the novel of Roman life, has been overemphasized by pedantic schoolmen; but it served to show English scholars the necessity for absolute exactness, even to the most minute details, in all matters pertaining to the study of the private life of the Romans. Becker is not in any sense to be considered a pupil of Scott, though his work was published shortly after the world had read the last of Scott’s novels. But Becker showed later German followers of Scott how it was possible to present with minute accuracy the life of the Romans; and these German historical novelists who thus portrayed Roman life, had an important influence upon the English novel of Roman life, as has been suggested in connection with Canon Farrar’s Darkness and Dawn. In Gallus, which we have said is not a novel, Becker says (in the Preface), “His original intention was to produce a systematic handbook, but finding this would lead to too much brevity and curtailment, and exclude altogether several minor traits, ... which were highly necessary to a complete portrait of Roman life, he was induced to imitate the example of Bottiger and Mazois, and produce a continuous story, with explanatory notes on each chapter. Those topics which required more elaborate investigation, have been handled at length in Excursus.” The “continuous story” which Becker chose was that of “Cornelius Gallus, a man whose fortunate rise from obscurity to splendor and honor, love of Lycoris, and poetical talents, render him not a little remarkable.” The author tells the story of Gallus, wherever possible, absolutely in accordance with history. He cites as his sources for this personal history Dio Cassius, Strabo, Suetonius, Vergil, Propertius and Ovid. He says further that “the Augustan age is decidedly the happiest time to select,” for a portraiture of Roman manners, since for the study of Roman private life of that period there is abundant source-material. He says that “apart from the numerous antique monuments which have been dug up, and placed in museums, our most important authorities on Roman private life are the later poets, as Juvenal, Martial, Statius: then Petronius, Seneca, Suetonius, the two Plinys, Cicero’s speeches and letters, the elegiac poets, and especially Horace. Next come the grammarians and the digests; while the Greek authors, as Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Plutarch, Dio Cassius, Lucian, Athenaeus, and the lexicographers, as Pollux, still further enlighten us.” In his careful citation of sources, and careful choice of what were the best sources, Becker pointed the way for all those who wrote of Roman life, whether they wrote in the form of the novel or not. He succeeded in making his work what he wished it to be, “a desirable repository of whatever is most worth knowing about the private life of the Romans.” Moreover, while Becker’s work does not pretend to be a novel, and is far too learned and ponderous to be called a novel, he unconsciously aided later writers of the novel of Roman life by showing them what a mistake it would be to overcrowd such a novel with details of Roman private life. At the same time they might derive some profit from Gallus as a model of accuracy in such matters. Becker’s work was a step in the proof of the fact that the later novel of Roman life must be accurate and precise in matters of scholarship. It is true that Bulwer had done somewhat the same thing that Becker claims to do in Gallus, but Becker’s meticulous regard for detail, while showing English novelists what to avoid, also aided them to a more full appreciation of the necessity for absolute accuracy, even in matters of small importance.