Life and Letters of Robert Browning Part 8

Queen Worship; I. Rudel and The Lady of Tripoli; II. Cristina.

Madhouse Cells; I. [Johannes Agricola.]; II. [Porphyria.]

Through the Metidja to Abd-el-Kadr. 1842.

The Pied Piper of Hamelin; a Child's Story.

IV. The Return of the Druses. A Tragedy, in Five Acts. 1843.

V. A Blot in the 'Scutcheon. A Tragedy, in Three Acts. 1843.

[Second Edition, same year.]

VI. Colombe's Birthday. A Play, in Five Acts. 1844.

VII. Dramatic Romances and Lyrics. 1845.

'How they brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix. (16--.)'

Pictor Ignotus. (Florence, 15--.) Italy in England.

England in Italy. (Piano di Sorrento.) The Lost Leader.

The Lost Mistress.

Home Thoughts, from Abroad.

The Tomb at St. Praxed's: (Rome, 15--.) Garden Fancies; I. The Flower's Name; II. Sibrandus Schafnaburgensis.

France and Spain; I. The Laboratory (Ancien Regime); II. Spain--The Confessional.

The Flight of the d.u.c.h.ess.

Earth's Immortalities.

Song. ('Nay but you, who do not love her.') The Boy and the Angel.

Night and Morning; I. Night; II. Morning.

Claret and Tokay.

Saul. (Part I.) Time's Revenges.

The Glove. (Peter Ronsard loquitur.) VIII. and last. Luria; and A Soul's Tragedy. 1846.

This publication has seemed ent.i.tled to a detailed notice, because it is practically extinct, and because its nature and circ.u.mstance confer on it a biographical interest not possessed by any subsequent issue of Mr.

Browning's works. The dramas and poems of which it is composed belong to that more mature period of the author's life, in which the a.n.a.lysis of his work ceases to form a necessary part of his history. Some few of them, however, are significant to it; and this is notably the case with 'A Blot in the 'Scutcheon'.

Chapter 8

1841-1844

'A Blot in the 'Scutcheon'--Letters to Mr. Frank Hill; Lady Martin--Charles d.i.c.kens--Other Dramas and Minor Poems--Letters to Miss Lee; Miss Haworth; Miss Flower--Second Italian Journey; Naples--E. J.

Trelawney--Stendhal.

'A Blot in the 'Scutcheon' was written for Macready, who meant to perform the princ.i.p.al part; and we may conclude that the appeal for it was urgent, since it was composed in the s.p.a.ce of four or five days.

Macready's journals must have contained a fuller reference to both the play and its performance (at Drury Lane, February 1843) than appears in published form; but considerable irritation had arisen between him and Mr. Browning, and he possibly wrote something which his editor, Sir Frederick Pollock, as the friend of both, thought it best to omit. What occurred on this occasion has been told in some detail by Mr. Gosse, and would not need repeating if the question were only of re-telling it on the same authority, in another person's words; but, through the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Hill, I am able to give Mr. Browning's direct statement of the case, as also his expressed judgment upon it. The statement was made more than forty years later than the events to which it refers, but will, nevertheless, be best given in its direct connection with them.

The merits, or demerits, of 'A Blot in the 'Scutcheon' had been freshly brought under discussion by its performance in London through the action of the Browning Society, and in Washington by Mr. Laurence Barrett; and it became the subject of a paragraph in one of the theatrical articles prepared for the 'Daily News'. Mr. Hill was then editor of the paper, and when the article came to him for revision, he thought it right to submit to Mr. Browning the pa.s.sages devoted to his tragedy, which embodied some then prevailing, but, he strongly suspected, erroneous impressions concerning it. The results of this kind and courteous proceeding appear in the following letter.

19, Warwick Crescent: December 15, 1884.

My dear Mr. Hill,--It was kind and considerate of you to suppress the paragraph which you send me,--and of which the publication would have been unpleasant for reasons quite other than as regarding my own work,--which exists to defend or accuse itself. You will judge of the true reasons when I tell you the facts--so much of them as contradicts the statements of your critic--who, I suppose, has received a stimulus from the notice, in an American paper which arrived last week, of Mr. Laurence Barrett's intention 'shortly to produce the play' in New York--and subsequently in London: so that 'the failure' of forty-one years ago might be duly influential at present--or two years hence perhaps. The 'mere amateurs' are no high game.

Macready received and accepted the play, while he was engaged at the Haymarket, and retained it for Drury Lane, of which I was ignorant that he was about to become the manager: he accepted it 'at the instigation'

of n.o.body,--and Charles d.i.c.kens was not in England when he did so: it was read to him after his return, by Forster--and the glowing letter which contains his opinion of it, although directed by him to be shown to myself, was never heard of nor seen by me till printed in Forster's book some thirty years after. When the Drury Lane season began, Macready informed me that he should act the play when he had brought out two others--'The Patrician's Daughter', and 'Plighted Troth': having done so, he wrote to me that the former had been unsuccessful in money-drawing, and the latter had 'smashed his arrangements altogether': but he would still produce my play. I had--in my ignorance of certain symptoms better understood by Macready's professional acquaintances--I had no notion that it was a proper thing, in such a case, to 'release him from his promise'; on the contrary, I should have fancied that such a proposal was offensive. Soon after, Macready begged that I would call on him: he said the play had been read to the actors the day before, 'and laughed at from beginning to end': on my speaking my mind about this, he explained that the reading had been done by the Prompter, a grotesque person with a red nose and wooden leg, ill at ease in the love scenes, and that he would himself make amends by reading the play next morning--which he did, and very adequately--but apprised me that, in consequence of the state of his mind, hara.s.sed by business and various trouble, the princ.i.p.al character must be taken by Mr. Phelps; and again I failed to understand,--what Forster subsequently a.s.sured me was plain as the sun at noonday,--that to allow at Macready's Theatre any other than Macready to play the princ.i.p.al part in a new piece was suicidal,--and really believed I was meeting his exigencies by accepting the subst.i.tution. At the rehearsal, Macready announced that Mr.

Phelps was ill, and that he himself would read the part: on the third rehearsal, Mr. Phelps appeared for the first time, and sat in a chair while Macready more than read, rehea.r.s.ed the part. The next morning Mr.

Phelps waylaid me at the stage-door to say, with much emotion, that it never was intended that _he_ should be instrumental in the success of a new tragedy, and that Macready would play Tresham on the ground that himself, Phelps, was unable to do so. He added that he could not expect me to waive such an advantage,--but that, if I were prepared to waive it, 'he would take ether, sit up all night, and have the words in his memory by next day.' I bade him follow me to the green-room, and hear what I decided upon--which was that as Macready had given him the part, he should keep it: this was on a Thursday; he rehea.r.s.ed on Friday and Sat.u.r.day,--the play being acted the same evening,--_of the fifth day after the 'reading' by MacReady_. Macready at once wished to reduce the importance of the 'play',--as he styled it in the bills,--tried to leave out so much of the text, that I baffled him by getting it printed in four-and-twenty hours, by Moxon's a.s.sistance. He wanted me to call it 'The Sister'!--and I have before me, while I write, the stage-acting copy, with two lines of his own insertion to avoid the tragical ending--Tresham was to announce his intention of going into a monastery!

all this, to keep up the belief that Macready, and Macready alone, could produce a veritable 'tragedy', unproduced before. Not a shilling was spent on scenery or dresses--and a striking scene which had been used for the 'Patrician's Daughter', did duty a second time. If your critic considers this treatment of the play an instance of 'the failure of powerful and experienced actors' to ensure its success,--I can only say that my own opinion was shown by at once breaking off a friendship of many years--a friendship which had a right to be plainly and simply told that the play I had contributed as a proof of it, would through a change of circ.u.mstances, no longer be to my friend's advantage,--all I could possibly care for. Only recently, when by the publication of Macready's journals the extent of his pecuniary embarra.s.sments at that time was made known, could I in a measure understand his motives for such conduct--and less than ever understand why he so strangely disguised and disfigured them. If 'applause' means success, the play thus maimed and maltreated was successful enough: it 'made way' for Macready's own Benefit, and the Theatre closed a fortnight after.

Having kept silence for all these years, in spite of repeated explanations, in the style of your critic's, that the play 'failed in spite of the best endeavours' &c. I hardly wish to revive a very painful matter: on the other hand,--as I have said; my play subsists, and is as open to praise or blame as it was forty-one years ago: is it necessary to search out what somebody or other,--not improbably a jealous adherent of Macready, 'the only organizer of theatrical victories', chose to say on the subject? If the characters are 'abhorrent' and 'inscrutable'--and the language conformable,--they were so when d.i.c.kens p.r.o.nounced upon them, and will be so whenever the critic pleases to re-consider them--which, if he ever has an opportunity of doing, apart from the printed copy, I can a.s.sure you is through no motion of mine. This particular experience was sufficient: but the Play is out of my power now; though amateurs and actors may do what they please.

Of course, this being the true story, I should desire that it were told _thus_ and no otherwise, if it must be told at all: but _not_ as a statement of mine,--the substance of it has been partly stated already by more than one qualified person, and if I have been willing to let the poor matter drop, surely there is no need that it should be gone into now when Macready and his Athenaeum upholder are no longer able to speak for themselves: this is just a word to you, dear Mr. Hill, and may be brought under the notice of your critic if you think proper--but only for the facts--not as a communication for the public.

Yes, thank you, I am in full health, as you wish--and I wish you and Mrs. Hill, I a.s.sure you, all the good appropriate to the season. My sister has completely recovered from her illness, and is grateful for your enquiries.

With best regards to Mrs. Hill, and an apology for this long letter, which however,--when once induced to write it,--I could not well shorten,--believe me, Yours truly ever Robert Browning.

I well remember Mr. Browning's telling me how, when he returned to the green-room, on that critical day, he drove his hat more firmly on to his head, and said to Macready, 'I beg pardon, sir, but you have given the part to Mr. Phelps, and I am satisfied that he should act it;' and how Macready, on hearing this, crushed up the MS., and flung it on to the ground. He also admitted that his own manner had been provocative; but he was indignant at what he deemed the unjust treatment which Mr. Phelps had received. The occasion of the next letter speaks for itself.

December 21, 1884.

My dear Mr. Hill,--Your goodness must extend to letting me have the last word--one of sincere thanks. You cannot suppose I doubted for a moment of a good-will which I have had abundant proof of. I only took the occasion your considerate letter gave me, to tell the simple truth which my forty years' silence is a sign I would only tell on compulsion. I never thought your critic had any less generous motive for alluding to the performance as he did than that which he professes: he doubtless heard the account of the matter which Macready and his intimates gave currency to at the time; and which, being confined for a while to their limited number, I never chose to notice. But of late years I have got to _read_,--not merely _hear_,--of the play's failure 'which all the efforts of my friend the great actor could not avert;' and the nonsense of this untruth gets hard to bear. I told you the princ.i.p.al facts in the letter I very hastily wrote: I could, had it been worth while, corroborate them by others in plenty, and refer to the living witnesses--Lady Martin, Mrs. Stirling, and (I believe) Mr. Anderson: it was solely through the admirable loyalty of the two former that ... a play ... deprived of every advantage, in the way of scenery, dresses, and rehearsing--proved--what Macready himself declared it to be--'a complete success'. _So_ he sent a servant to tell me, 'in case there was a call for the author at the end of the act'--to which I replied that the author had been too sick and sorry at the whole treatment of his play to do any such thing. Such a call there truly _was_, and Mr. Anderson had to come forward and 'beg the author to come forward if he were in the house--a circ.u.mstance of which he was not aware:' whereat the author laughed at him from a box just opposite... . I would submit to anybody drawing a conclusion from one or two facts past contradiction, whether that play could have thoroughly failed which was not only not withdrawn at once but acted three nights in the same week, and years afterwards, reproduced at his own theatre, during my absence in Italy, by Mr.

Phelps--the person most completely aware of the untoward circ.u.mstances which stood originally in the way of success. Why not enquire how it happens that, this second time, there was no doubt of the play's doing as well as plays ordinarily do? for those were not the days of a 'run'.

... This 'last word' has indeed been an Aristophanic one of fifty syllables: but I have spoken it, relieved myself, and commend all that concerns me to the approved and valued friend of whom I am proud to account myself in corresponding friendship, His truly ever Robert Browning.

Mr. Browning also alludes to Mr. Phelps's acting as not only not having been detrimental to the play, but having helped to save it, in the conspiracy of circ.u.mstances which seemed to invoke its failure. This was a mistake, since Macready had been anxious to resume the part, and would have saved it, to say the least, more thoroughly. It must, however, be remembered that the irritation which these letters express was due much less to the nature of the facts recorded in them than to the manner in which they had been brought before Mr. Browning's mind. Writing on the subject to Lady Martin in February 1881, he had spoken very temperately of Macready's treatment of his play, while deprecating the injustice towards his own friendship which its want of frankness involved: and many years before this, the touch of a common sorrow had caused the old feeling, at least momentarily, to well up again. The two met for the first time after these occurrences when Mr. Browning had returned, a widower, from Italy. Mr. Macready, too, had recently lost his wife; and Mr. Browning could only start forward, grasp the hand of his old friend, and in a voice choked with emotion say, 'O Macready!'

Lady Martin has spoken to me of the poet's att.i.tude on the occasion of this performance as being full of generous sympathy for those who were working with him, as well as of the natural anxiety of a young author for his own success. She also remains convinced that this sympathy led him rather to over-than to under-rate the support he received. She wrote concerning it in 'Blackwood's Magazine', March 1881:

'It seems but yesterday that I sat by his [Mr. Elton's] side in the green-room at the reading of Robert Browning's beautiful drama, 'A Blot in the 'Scutcheon'. As a rule Mr. Macready always read the new plays.

But owing, I suppose, to some press of business, the task was entrusted on this occasion to the head prompter,--a clever man in his way, but wholly unfitted to bring out, or even to understand, Mr. Browning's meaning. Consequently, the delicate, subtle lines were twisted, perverted, and sometimes even made ridiculous in his hands. My "cruel father" [Mr. Elton] was a warm admirer of the poet. He sat writhing and indignant, and tried by gentle asides to make me see the real meaning of the verse. But somehow the mischief proved irreparable, for a few of the actors during the rehearsals chose to continue to misunderstand the text, and never took the interest in the play which they would have done had Mr. Macready read it.'

Looking back on the first appearance of his tragedy through the widening perspectives of nearly forty years, Mr. Browning might well declare as he did in the letter to Lady Martin to which I have just referred, that her '_perfect_ behaviour as a woman' and her 'admirable playing as an actress' had been (or at all events were) to him 'the one gratifying circ.u.mstance connected with it.'

He also felt it a just cause of bitterness that the letter from Charles d.i.c.kens,* which conveyed his almost pa.s.sionate admiration of 'A Blot in the 'Scutcheon', and was clearly written to Mr. Forster in order that it might be seen, was withheld for thirty years from his knowledge, and that of the public whose judgment it might so largely have influenced.

Nor was this the only time in the poet's life that fairly earned honours escaped him.

* See Forster's 'Life of d.i.c.kens'.

'Colombe's Birthday' was produced in 1853 at the Haymarket;* and afterwards in the provinces, under the direction of Miss Helen Faucit, who created the princ.i.p.al part. It was again performed for the Browning Society in 1885,** and although Miss Alma Murray, as Colombe, was almost entirely supported by amateurs, the result fully justified Miss Mary Robinson (now Madame James Darmesteter) in writing immediately afterwards in the Boston 'Literary World':***

* Also in 1853 or 1854 at Boston.

** It had been played by amateurs, members of the Browning Society, and their friends, at the house of Mr. Joseph King, in January 1882.