It is my purpose in this study to show the use which the English historical novel has made of the rich and abundant material furnished by the life of ancient Rome. In doing this I shall trace the genesis of the novel of Roman life and its development, with special emphasis upon elements of permanent value. As an aid to a clear perception of this latter point, I shall give a carefully selected list of the best novels of Roman life, pointing out their claims to greatness. At the end of my study will be found a complete list of all books which make any pretense of presenting Roman life in the form of a novel.
Since ancient Rome is often associated with ancient Greece in classical study, the question may arise as to why novels dealing with life in ancient Greece are excluded from consideration here. The answer is that comparatively few such novels have been written. The author who writes of ancient Rome has at his disposal abundant materials from which he may construct a novel; he who writes of the life of ancient Greece finds his sources somewhat more limited. Another consideration which has influenced authors is that modern life is more immediately related to the life of ancient Rome than to that of ancient Greece. The classic period of Greek history was of comparatively short duration, and, in one sense, the life of ancient Greece lost its identity even before it was absorbed by the life of the Roman empire; while the life of ancient Rome made itself felt in the most remote parts of the widely extended Roman world. We must give full recognition to ancient Greece for her contribution to the world’s culture, yet admit that her influence upon the world today has been overshadowed by the power of Rome. The story of Rome’s power, rather than that of the culture of Greece, has found expression in the modern novel.
A novelist who writes of ancient Rome may deal with any period of Rome’s history, from the traditional date of the founding of the city to the time at which Rome ceased to be the head of the western Empire. A convenient division is made when we speak of (1) Rome before the Empire, (2) Rome under the Empire. Pre-imperial Rome has furnished the inspiration for comparatively few novels. Since, however, some of these are of great merit, it will be well to examine certain portions of Rome’s early history with which they are connected. One excellent novel[1] deals with prehistoric Italy and the first faint beginnings of Roman things. Immediately following the legendary period of her existence, Rome was chiefly concerned with struggles with her Italian neighbors; these struggles have inspired no great novel in English, though several good books for boys have been written about them. The desperate conflict between Rome and Carthage offers material for a novel of strong appeal. But the stirring times of the later Republic present the best field for the novel of pre-Imperial Rome.[2] The period of the Empire, however, when Rome was undisputed mistress of the world, is the time which has appealed to most of the novelists who write of ancient Rome.
The number of novels or of books masquerading as novels, which make some use of Roman life as a background, is large; many of these purport to be what they are not. So, if one reviews even a small portion of the entire number, it becomes obvious that many, if not most of them, are neither literature nor anything else of value. There is one class of novels, whose purpose is not primarily to represent life in ancient Rome, but to make other work attractive by the addition of artificial coloring. The use of such superficial aid in a novel nearly always reveals the absence of any serious purpose. This lack of seriousness is well illustrated by the work of Sir Rider Haggard in such pseudo-historical novels as Cleopatra, and Pearl Maiden. A novel which seems to come a little closer to being truly “historical,” is Unto Caesar, by the Baroness Orczy; but, on closer examination, this book is found to belong to the “artificial” class we are discussing. It makes use of a few striking facts in the life of Caligula; but the deep significance of these facts and of its quotations from the Bible, is entirely lost, owing to the light and cheap sentimentality which pervades the whole volume. A further illustration of pseudo-sanctity is seen in the recently published novel of Dr. Burris Jenkins, Princess Salome.[3] When fantastic and improbable stories are woven around historical characters in a novel; or when facts of deep historical significance are made to aid the novelist in a frivolous pretense to serious work; the result is sure to be a work of small merit. Novels in which a supposed setting of Roman life merely conceals inferior work and makes it appear attractive, will not be considered in this study.
There is a second class of books whose chief purpose is not portrayal of life in ancient Rome, but rather a kind of religious propaganda. They set forth in the form of fiction, some story inspired by the records of the New Testament, or taken from the chronicles of Church history. Not all of these books are to be called novels, but they have been produced in large numbers, and have a significant relation to the kind of novel we are considering. Many stories of the early Christians, particularly of martyrs in the arena, may be told in such a way as to portray the life of Rome very inadequately. They often ignore the pagan point of view, and in most cases deliberately misrepresent it. In such a book as Cardinal Wiseman’s Fabiola, (1855), the Emperor and his soldiers are mere abstract representatives of power and evil; while the Christians artificially personify virtue and martyrdom. The work of Mrs. J. B. Peploe Webb is well represented by Pomponia,[4] a moral story of supposed religious experience. Many such books have been written since 1850, and published by religious publication societies. They usually present merely a stereotyped analysis of the character of some Christian martyr, while a smattering of history is used to blindfold, rather than to enlighten the reader. A novel which is truly to portray the life of ancient Rome may well include within its scope the life of the early Christians, but we shall not consider those books which deliberately present either Christians or pagans in a false light.[5]
Of special interest to the teacher of history are juvenile stories of Roman history, written for boys in fiction form, since many of these truly portray a part of the life of ancient Rome. It must be observed, however, that books for boys are subject to some limitations not placed upon novels written for their elders. Such well-known authors of books for boys as the Rev. Alfred J. Church and G. A. Henty have recognized that they must present a hero who will appeal especially to boys, and that this hero must have adventures illustrating schoolbook history. In Church’s book Two Thousand Years Ago, Spartacus is represented as a truly noble figure, while in The Young Carthaginian, Henty makes Hannibal the real hero. But the technical hero in each of these books is an idealized youth, who rushes from one exciting adventure to another. Moreover, both Church and Henty tried to make the study of history instructive, by introducing into their fictions for boys favorite incidents of the history books. The result was that their novels for boys became too heavy with history. The general criticism may also be made of such books for boys, that they make too much use of the life of the soldier and the gladiator, to the exclusion of other elements in Roman life. There is, however, a fairly accurate portrayal of Roman life, from a teacher’s point of view, in some books for boys; such books are not to be confused with religious stories of the Sunday-school type, and have a definite connection with our subject.
After excluding novels which use Roman life merely to make other work attractive, or as an artificial background for religious instruction, we find that there still remain a considerable number which attempt to portray Roman life, but are unsuccessful. The novelist may fall short of his aim through lack of scholarship, through want of appreciation of the essential worth of his subject, or through sheer inability to appeal to his readers directly. There may be found on the shelves of public libraries, many novels, in which the characters have Roman names and are supposed to live in ancient Rome; but many of these novels do not really portray the life of Rome at all. Some of them feebly essay to imitate books of established reputation, and prove to be very poor imitations. The present study will be chiefly concerned with those novels which make a serious portrayal of the life of ancient Rome for its own intrinsic interest.
We are dealing then with that form of the historical novel which portrays the life of ancient Rome. The historical novel may be defined as that form of the novel which makes use of historical characters and events as an integral part of the story. Ample support may be found for this definition in the always candid words of Sir Walter Scott, the first really great English historical novelist, in his introductions to the Waverly Novels. In the Prefatory Letter to Peveril of the Peak, he has the anonymous “Author of Waverly” say, “A poor fellow, like myself, weary with ransacking his own barren and bounded imagination, looks out for some general subject in the huge and boundless field of history, which holds forth examples of every kind,—lights on some personage, or some combination of circumstances, or some striking trait of manners, which he thinks may be advantageously used as the basis of a fictitious narrative, ... invests it with such shades of character as will best contrast with each other—and thinks, perhaps, he has done some service to the public if he can present to them a lively fictitious picture, for which the original anecdote or circumstance which he made free to press into his services, only furnishes a slight sketch.” Again, in the introduction to The Abbot, Scott says, “I naturally paid attention to such principles of composition, as I conceived were best suited to the historical novel;” and this when he has just made it clear that the choice of a famous historical character[6] as subject is the readiest, though the most difficult, way to instant success. In a note to the introduction to The Abbot, he says, “There occur in every country some peculiar historical characters, which are, like a spell or charm, sovereign to excite curiosity and attract attention, since every one in the slightest degree interested in the land which they belong to, has heard much of them, and longs to hear more.” The importance of a theme based on famous historical events, to an historical novel, is attested by Scott in his introduction to Red Gauntlet. Here he says, “The Jacobite enthusiasm of the eighteenth century, particularly during the rebellion of 1745, afforded a theme, perhaps the finest that could be selected for fictitious composition, founded upon real or probable incident.” In the introduction to Woodstock, Scott says, “Nothing, indeed, is more certain, than that incidents that are real, preserve an infinite advantage in works of this nature (historical novels) over such as are fictitious.” Not every novel which tells a story of the past is a true historical novel; it must make some vital use of historical characters and events if it is to be considered truly historical.
But the function of the historical novel is not to teach history as it is taught by the schoolbook. It is rather to aid the reader to a sympathetic appreciation of history in the broader sense,—the history that reveals the life of the past with all its significant relations to the life of the present. As Scott explains, “The love of knowledge wants but a beginning—the least spark will give fire when the train is properly prepared; and having been interested in fictitious adventures ascribed to an historical period and characters, the reader begins next to be anxious to learn what the facts really were, and how far the novelist has justly represented them.”[7] Moreover the aim of the best historical novels is not to escape the present and carry the reader back to the past, but to bring the present and the past face to face,—in short, to portray life as it exists, and always has existed. “The passions, the sources from which (sentiments and manners) must spring in all their modifications, are generally the same in all ranks and conditions, all countries and ages; and it follows as a matter of course, that the opinions, habits of thinking, and actions, however influenced by the peculiar state of society, must still, on the whole, bear a strong resemblance to each other.”[8] An historical novel is great,—when it is great,—because, in its study of the life of the past, it displays the same qualities that give value to the life of today. The true test of greatness in an historical novel may be defined at once, as the test of its success in portraying the past with realistic effect.