The Brownings Part 3

BROWNING VISITS RUSSIA--"PARACELSUS"--RECOGNITION OF WORDSWORTH AND LANDOR--"STRAFFORD"--FIRST VISIT TO ITALY--MRS. CARLYLE'S BAFFLED READING OF "SORDELLO"--LOFTY MOTIF OF THE POEM--THE UNIVERSAL PROBLEM OF LIFE--ENTHUSIASM FOR ITALY--THE SIBYLLINE LEAVES YET TO UNFOLD.

From Camberwell to St. Petersburg was somewhat of a transition. This was Mr. Browning's initial excursion into a wider world of realities, as distinguished from that mirage which rises in the world of dreams and mental nebulae. "To know the universe itself as a road,--as many roads," is the way in which the beckoning future prefigures itself to the artist temperament.

"All around him Patmos lies Who hath spirit-gifted eyes."

The eyes thus touched with the chrism of poetic art see the invisible which is peopled with forms unseen to others, and which offers a panorama of living drama. It is the poet who overhears the "talk of the G.o.ds," and when he shall report

"Some random word they say,"

he becomes

"... the fated man of men Whom the ages must obey."

This was the undreamed destiny hovering over the young poet, luring him on like a guiding cloud which became a pillar of fire by night.

Among his London friends was the Chevalier George de Benkhausen, the Russian Consul-General, who, being suddenly summoned to Russia on some secret mission of state, invited Browning to accompany him. Browning went "nominally in the character of secretary," Mrs. Orr says, and they fared forth on March 1, by steamer to Rotterdam, and then journeyed more than fifteen hundred miles by diligence, drawn by relays of galloping horses.

The expedition was to Browning a rich mine of poetic material. The experience sank into the subconsciousness as seed to await fruition. In his "Ivan Ivanovitch," where is seen

"This highway broad and straight e'en from the Neva's mouth To Moscow's gates of gold,"

and in which the unending pine forests rising from the snow-covered ground are so vividly pictured; and in "Colombe's Birthday," where is seen the region of the heroine,--

"Castle Ravestein-- That sleeps out trustfully its extreme age On the Meuse' quiet bank, where she lived queen Over the water-buds,..."

and the place

"... when he hid his child Among the river-flowers at Ravestein,"

it can be seen how all this country impressed his imagination. Professor Hall Griffin finds in the fifth book of "Sordello" an unmistakable description of the most famous and oldest portrait of Charlemagne, which hangs in the Council Hall of the Rath-haus, in Aix, which Mr. Browning saw on this trip. During these three months he saw something of Russian society, and on the breaking up of the ice in the Neva in spring, witnessed the annual ceremony of the Czar's drinking the first gla.s.s of water from it. Much of the gorgeous, barbaric splendor of Russian fairs and booths, "with droshkies and fish-pies" on the one hand, and stately palaces on the other, haunted him, and reflected themselves in several of his poems. Especially did the Russian music and strains of folk-song linger in his memory for all the after years.

On his return from Russia Browning had some fancy for entering on a diplomatic career, and was momentarily disappointed at not receiving an appointment to Persia, which he had in mind; fortunately for him and for the world he was held to the orbit of his poetic gift. Diplomacy has an abundance of recruits without devastating poetic genius to furnish them.

The winter of 1834 found him deeply absorbed in "Paracelsus." This poem is dedicated to the Marquis Amedee de Ripert-Monclar, who was a great friend of Browning at this time. The Marquis was four years his senior; he was in England as a private agent for the d.u.c.h.esse de Berri and the Royalist party in France to the English government. The subject of the poem is said to have been suggested by the Marquis, although the fact that all this medieval lore had been familiar to Browning from his earliest childhood must be accounted the pre-determining factor in its creation. William Sharp quotes Browning as having once said of his father: "The old gentleman's brain was a storehouse of literary and philosophical antiquities. He was completely versed in medieval legend, and seemed to have known Paracelsus, Faustus, and even Talmudic personages, personally,"

and his son a.s.similated unconsciously this entire atmosphere.

Both "Paracelsus" and "Sordello" seem to spring, as by natural poetic evolution, from "Pauline"; all three of these poems are, in varying degree, a drama of the soul's progress. They all suggest, and "Paracelsus," especially, in a great degree embodies, the Hegelian philosophy; yet Mr. Barrett Browning expresses his rather positive conviction that his father never read Hegel at any period of his life. Dr.

Corson regarded these early poems of Browning as of peculiar value in showing his att.i.tude toward things. "We see in what direction the poet has set his face," said Dr. Corson, "what his philosophy of life is, what soul-life means with him, what regeneration means, what edification means in its deepest sense of building up within us the spiritual temple." Dr.

Corson further illuminated this att.i.tude of the poet by pointing out that he emphasized the approach to perfection as something that cannot be brought out through what is born and resides in the brain; but it must be by "the attracting power of magnetic personalities, the ultimate, absolute personality being the G.o.d-man, Christ. The human soul is regarded in Browning's poetry," continued Dr. Corson, "as a complexly organized, individualized, divine force, destined to gravitate toward the Infinite.

How is this force with its numberless checks and counter-checks, its centripetal and centrifugal tendencies, best determined in its necessarily oblique way? How much earthly ballast must it carry to keep it sufficiently steady, and how little, that it may not be weighed down with materialistic heaviness?" Incredibly enough, in the revelations of the retrospective view, "Paracelsus" made little impression on the literary critics of the day; the _Athenaeum_ devoting to it less s.p.a.ce even than to "the anonymous Pauline," while the "Philip van Artevelde" of Henry Taylor (now hardly remembered) received fifteen columns of tribute, in which the critic confided to the public his enthusiastic estimate of that production. Neither _Blackwood's_, the _Quarterly_, nor the _Edinburgh_ even mentioned "Paracelsus"; the _Athenaeum_ admitted that it had talent, but admonished the poet that "Writers would do well to remember that though it is not difficult to imitate the mysticism and vagueness of Sh.e.l.ley, we love him--not because of these characteristics, but in spite of them." The one gleam of consolation to the young poet in all this general neglect or unfavorable comment was that of a three-column article from the pen of John Forster in the _Examiner_, then conducted by Leigh Hunt, and on whose staff were Sergeant Talfourd and Proctor (Barry Cornwall) beside Forster, who was then a rising young journalist of twenty-three, only one month the senior of Browning. But Forster spoke with no uncertain note; rather, with authority, and in this critique he said:

"Since the publication of 'Philip van Artevelde' we have met with no such evidences of poetical genius ... and we may safely predict for its author a brilliant career, if he continues true to the present promise of his genius."

The immediate effect of the publication of "Paracelsus" was of a social rather than of a literary character, for something in it seemed magnetic to the life of the day, and the young poet found himself welcomed by a brilliant literary circle. He met Wordsworth and Walter Savage Landor, d.i.c.kens, Monckton Milnes (later Lord Houghton), Proctor (Barry Cornwall), Horne, Sergeant Talfourd, Leigh Hunt, and others. Hunt was then domiciled in Cheyne Row, in close proximity to the Carlyles, with whom Browning had already formed a friendship.

Rev. William Johnson Fox, one of Browning's earliest friends, was at this time living at Craven Hill, Bayswater, and on an evening when Macready had dined with him, Browning came in. This evening (November 27, 1835) is noted in Macready's diary, and after speaking of Mr. Fox as an "original and profound thinker," he adds:

"Mr. Robert Browning, the author of 'Paracelsus,' came in after dinner; I was very much pleased to meet him. His face is full of intelligence.... I took Mr. Browning on, and requested to be allowed to improve my acquaintance with him. He expressed himself warmly, as gratified by the proposal, wished to send me his book. We exchanged cards, and parted."

Later (under date of December 7), Mr. Macready records:

"Read 'Paracelsus,' a work of great daring, starred with poetry of thought, feeling, diction, but occasionally obscure. The writer can scarcely fail to be a leading spirit of the time."

On New Year's Eve Mr. Macready invited a little house party, among whom were Forster and Browning. "Mr. Browning was very popular with the whole party," writes Mr. Macready in his journal; "his simple and enthusiastic manner engaged attention and won golden opinions from all present; he looks and speaks more like a youthful poet than any man I ever saw."

Browning's personal appearance, "slim, and dark, and very handsome," as Mary Cowden Clarke said, is pictured by many of his friends of that time.

"As a young man," writes William Sharp, "he seems to have had a certain ivory delicacy of coloring ... and he appeared taller than he really was, partly because of his rare grace of movement, and partly from a characteristic high poise of the head when listening intently to music or conversation.... His hair was so beautiful in its heavy sculpturesque waves as to attract frequent notice. Another, and more subtle personal charm, was his voice, then with a rare, flute-like tone, clear, sweet, and resonant."

Macready was not only a notable figure on the stage at this period, but he was also (what every great actor must be) a man of thought, intense sensibility, and wide culture. Soon after Macready had appeared in Talfourd's "Ion" (the _premiere_ being on the playwright's birthday), Talfourd gave a supper at his house, at which Browning for the first time met Wordsworth and Landor. Macready himself sat between these two ill.u.s.trious poets, with Browning opposite to him. The guests included Ellen Tree, Miss Mitford, and Forster. Macready, recording this night in his diary, writes of "Wordsworth who pinned me." Landor, it seems, talked of constructing drama, and said he "had not the faculty," that he "could only set persons to talking; all the rest was chance." But an ever remembered moment came for the young poet when the host proposed a toast to the author of "Paracelsus," and Wordsworth, rising, said: "I am proud to drink to your health, Mr. Browning," and Landor bowed with his inimitable, courteous grace, raising his gla.s.s to his lips. For some years, whenever Wordsworth visited London, Forster invited Browning to meet him. The younger poet was never an enthusiast in his mild friendship for the elder, although in after years (1875) he replied to a question by Rev. A. B. Grosart, the editor of Wordsworth's works, that while in hasty youth he did "presume to use the great and venerated personality of Wordsworth as a sort of painter's model," he intended in "The Lost Leader"

no portrait of the entire man. While Wordsworth's political att.i.tude did not please the young disciple of Sh.e.l.ley, for Landor he conceived the most profound admiration and sympathetic affection. It was a striking sequel to this youthful attraction that in Landor's desolate old age it should be Browning who tenderly cared for him, and surrounded his last days with unfailing comfort and solicitude.

At this memorable supper, just as Browning was about to take his leave, Macready laid his hand on the young man's shoulder, saying earnestly: "Write a play for me, and keep me from going to America." The thought appealed to the poet, who replied: "Shall it be historical and English?

What do you say to 'Strafford' for a subject?" Forster was then bringing out his biography of Strafford, on which Browning had a.s.sisted, so that the theme had already engaged his imagination. A few days after the supper Macready records in his diary receiving a note from Browning and adds: "What can I say upon it? It was a tribute which remunerated me for the annoyances and cares of years; it was one of the very highest, may I not say the highest, honor I have through life received."

A certain temperamental sympathy between the two men is evident, though Macready sounded no such fathomless depths as lay, however unsuspected, in Browning; but Macready gives many indications of poetic sympathies, as, for instance, when he records in his diary how he had been looking through Coleridge's translation of Wallenstein, "abounding with n.o.ble pa.s.sages and beautiful scenes," to see if it would lend itself to stage representation.

On November 19 of this autumn Macready notes in his journal that Browning came that night to bring his tragedy of "Strafford," of which the fourth act was incomplete. "I requested him to write in the plot of what was deficient," says Macready, and drove to the Garrick Club while Browning wrote out this story. Later, there was a morning call from Browning, who gave him an interesting old print of Richard, from some tapestry, and they talked of "La Valliere." All the time we get glimpses of an interesting circle: Bulwer and Forster call, and they discuss Cromwell; Bulwer's play of "Virginius" is in rehearsal; Macready acts Cardinal Wolsey; there is a dinner at Lady Blessington's, where are met Lord Canterbury, Count D'Orsay, Bulwer, Trelawney, and Proctor; there is a call on Miss Martineau, and meetings with Thackeray and d.i.c.kens; Kenyon appears in the intersecting circles; Marston (the father of the blind poet) writes his play, "The Patrician's Daughter"; Mr. Longfellow, "a Professor at one of the U. S. Universities," appears on the scene, and there is a dinner at which "Mr. and Mrs. N. P. Willis sat next to Longfellow." On a night when Browning came with some alterations for "Strafford," a stranger called, "saying he was a Greek, a great lover of the drama; I introduced Browning to him as a great tragic poet," records Macready, "and the youth wrote down his name, telling us he was setting off for Athens directly."

The rehearsals of "Strafford" came on, but Macready seems already to have had misgivings. "In Shakespeare," he writes, "the great poet has only introduced such events as act on the individuals concerned; but in Browning's play we have a long scene of pa.s.sion--upon what? A plan destroyed, a parliament dissolved...." It is easy to see how Browningesque this was; for to the poet no events of the objective life were so real and significant as those of the purely mental drama of thought, feeling, and purpose. The rehearsals were, however, gratifying to the author, it seems, for Macready records in his diary (that recurs like the chorus in a Greek tragedy) that he was happy "with the extreme delight Browning testified at the rehearsal of my part, which he said to him was a full recompense for having written the play, as he had seen his utmost hopes of character perfectly embodied." The play was performed at the Covent Garden Theater on the night of May 3, 1837.

Both Edmund Gosse and William Sharp deny that Browning's plays failed on the stage; at all events, with each attempt there were untoward circ.u.mstances which alone would have contributed to or even doomed a play to a short tenure.

In 1886 "Strafford" was produced in London under the auspices of the Browning Society, and the real power of the play surprised as well as deeply impressed the audiences who saw it. But "Pauline," "Paracelsus,"

and "Strafford" all have a peculiar element of reminiscent importance, if it may be so termed, in that they were the forerunners, the indications of the great work to come.

There is no dramatic poem of Browning's that has not pa.s.sages of superb acting effects, as well as psychological fascinations for the thinker; and the future years were to touch him with new power to produce work whose dramatic power lives in imperishable significance. "Strafford" had a run of only five nights at this first time of its production; Macready received and accepted an offer to go to America, and other things happened. Browning became absorbed in his "Sordello," and suddenly, on Good Friday of 1838, he sailed for Venice, "intending to finish my poem among the scenes it describes," he wrote to John Robertson, who had been introduced to Browning by Miss Martineau. On a sailing ship, bound for Trieste, the poet found himself the only pa.s.senger. It was on this voyage, while between Gibraltar and Naples, that he wrote "How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix." It was written on deck, penciled on the fly-leaf of Bartoli's _De' Simboli trasportati al Morale_. When Dr. Corson first visited Browning in 1881, in his London home in Warwick Crescent, Browning showed his guest this identical copy of the book, with the penciled poem on the fly-leaves, of which Dr. Corson said, in a private letter to a friend:

"One book in the library I was particularly interested in,--Bartoli's _Simboli_, or, rather, in what the poet had written in pencil on its fly-leaves, front and back, namely, 'How they brought the good news from Ghent to Aix.'"

Dr. Corson added that he had been so often asked as to what this "good news" was, that he put the question to Mr. Browning, who replied:

"'I don't remember whether I had in my mind any in particular, when I wrote the poem'; and then, after a pause," continued Dr. Corson, "he said, with a dash of expression characteristic of him, 'Of course, very important news were carried between those two cities during that period.'"

In Mrs. Orr's biography of Browning she quotes a long letter written by him to Miss Haworth, in the late summer of 1838, after his return from this Italian trip, in which he says:

"You will see 'Sordello' in a trice, if the f.a.gging fit holds. I did not write six lines while absent (except a scene in a play, jotted down as we sailed through the straits of Gibraltar), but I did hammer out some four, two of which are addressed to you,... I saw the most gorgeous and lavish sunset in the world.... I went to Trieste, then to Venice, then through Treviso, and Ba.s.sano to the mountains, delicious Asolo, all my places and castles you will see. Then to Vicenza, Padua, and Venice again. Then to Verona, Trent, Innspruck (the Tyrol), Munich, Salzburg, Frankfort and Mayence; down the Rhine to Cologne, then to Aix-le-Chapelle, Liege, and Antwerp; then home.... I saw very few Italians, 'to know,' that is. Those I did see I liked...."

It is related that the captain of the ship became so much attached to Browning that he offered him a free pa.s.sage to Constantinople; and that his friendly attraction to his youthful pa.s.senger was such that on returning to England he brought to the poet's sister a gift of six bottles of attar of roses. The poems of "Pippa Pa.s.ses" and "In a Gondola" may be directly traced to this visit, and Browning seemed so invigorated by it that his imagination was aflame with a mult.i.tude of ideas at once.

Meanwhile "Paracelsus" was winning increasing appreciation. The poet did not escape the usual sweeping conclusion generally put forth regarding any unusual work, that the author has made extensive studies for it,--as if ideas and imagination drew their inspiration from the outer world, and were solely to be appraised, as to their results, by the capacity for cramming. So much cramming, so much genius! He who thus mistakes inspiration for industry certainly proves how very remote is his mind from the former. With this marvelous work by a young man of twenty-three the usual literary legends were set afloat, like thistledown in the air, which seem to have floated and alighted everywhere, and which now, more than seventy-five years later, are apparently still floating and alighting on the pens of various writers, to the effect that "Paracelsus" is the result of "vast research among contemporary records," till the poem added another to the Seven Labors of Hercules. As a matter of fact, and as has already been noted, Browning had merely browsed about his father's library.

Dr. Berdoe points out that the real "Paracelsus" cannot be understood without considerable excursions into the occult sciences, and he is quite right as to the illumination these provide, in proportionate degree as they are acquired by the reader; as a matter of course they enlarge his horizon, and offer him clues to unsuspected labyrinths; and so fine and complete is Dr. Berdoe's own commentary on "Paracelsus" that it might not unduly be held as supplementary to the reader's entire enjoyment of the poem. Dr. Berdoe notes that the Bishop of Spanheim, who was the instructor of Paracelsus, defined "divine magic," as another name for alchemy, "and lays down the great doctrine of all medieval occultism, as of all modern theosophy,--of a soul-power equally operative in the material and the immaterial, in nature and in the consciousness of man." The sympathetic reader of Browning's "Paracelsus" will realize, however, that the drama he presents is spiritual, rather than occult. It is not the search for the possible mysteries, or achievements of the crucible. It is the adventure of the soul, not the penetration into the secrets of unknown elementals.

In the autumn of 1835 the Browning family removed from Camberwell to Hatcham. They bestowed themselves in a s.p.a.cious, delightful old house, with "long, low rooms," wherein the household G.o.ds, inclusive of the six thousand books of the elder Browning's treasured library, found abundant accommodation; and the outlook on the Surrey hills gratified them all.