BINDING LIST DEC 1 5 1924

YALE STUDIES IN ENGLISH

ALBERT S. COOK, Editor LXIV

THE LIFE AND WORK OF JOANNA BAILLIE

y

BY

MARGARET S. CARHART

Instructor in English in the Southern Branch of the University of California

A Dissertation presented to the Faculty of the Graduate School of Yale University in Candidacy for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

NEW HAVEN : YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS

LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

MDCCCCXXIII

WEIMAR : PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR BY R. WAGNER SOHN

fcLEOfeONtC VERSION AVA^iLABLE

CHAPTER I

THE LIFE OF JOANNA BAILLIE.

' If I had to present any one to a foreigner as a model of an English Gentlewoman/ said William Wordsworth, * it would be Joanna BailHe '^ And this was the same Joanna Baillie whom Sir Walter Scott called ' the best dramatic writer ' Britain had produced * since the days of Shakespeare and Massinger.'* j

Ancestry and Childhood.

Joanna Baillie was born in the manse of Bothwell, Lanarkshire, Scotland, on September ii, 1762. Her father was descended from an ancient Scotch family which numbered among its progenitors the national patriot, Wallace. He also claimed connection with Robert Wallace, of Jerviswood, a martyr to the cause of Scotch independence.^ Joanna's mother, Dorothea Hunter Baillie, was descended from the second son of the Laird of Ayrshire, Hunter of Hunterstone. Her girlhood had been spent at Long Calderwood, a small estate near Glasgow, which had belonged to the family for many generations.^ There she was married to the Reverend Mr. BaiTEB. During the early years of their

^ Sadler, Diary, Reminiscences, and Correspondence of Henry Crabb Robinson 1. 386.

^ Familiar Letters of Sir Walter Scott i. 99.

* Works, p. V, When not otherwise specified, details in this chapter are taken from the biographical preface to the second edition of Joanna Baillie's collected works.

* Paget, Life of John Hunter, pp. 22-33.

4 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

married life, they moved from rectory to rectory. In 1760 a daughter, Agnes, was born to them, and in 1761, a son, Matthew.^

The family were scarcely settled in the manse of Bothwell when Joanna and her twin sister were born.^ Joanna was named in honor of Her uncle. Dr. John Hunter 3; her sister died unnamed a few hours after her birth.2 According to the baptismal record of the parish, Joanna was baptized in the church of Bothwell on Sep- tember 12, by the Reverend Mr. James Miller, * minister of the Gospell in Hamilton.'^ The manse in which she spent the first four or five years of her life stood ' on a sort of mound, on one side overlooking the valley of the Clyde, and on the other the churchyard and part of the village. The situation is at once airy and secluded. Between the manse and the churchyard lies the garden, full of fruit trees ; and other gardens, or rather orchards, between that and the village, add to the mass of foliage, in which it is immersed. Between the churchyard and the manse garden commences a glen, which runs down, widening and deepening as it goes, on the side of the manse most distant from the village, to the great Clyde valley. This gives the house a picturesqueness of situation peculiarly attractive. It has its own little secluded glen, its sloping crofts, finely shaded with trees, and beyond again other masses of trees shrouding cottages and farms. '^ More than fifty years later, Joanna wrote a poem in honor of her sister's birthday, in which she recalls lovingly their childhood days :

1 Paget, p. 263.

2 Hamilton, Women Writers, ist Series, p. iii. ' Works, p. V.

* Rogers, The Scottish Minstrel i. 126.

^ Howitt, Homes and Haunts of the Most Eminent British Poets 2. 288.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 5

Dear Agnes, gleam'd with joy and dash'd with tears,

O'er us have glided almost sixty years.

Since we on Bothwell's bonny braes were seen.

By those whose eyes long closed in death have been,

Two tiny imps, who scarcely stoop'd to gather

The slender harebell, or the purple heather ;

No taller than the foxglove's spiky stem.

That dew of morning studs with silvery gem.

Then every butterfly that cross'd our view

With joyful shout was greeted as it flew.

And moth and lady-bird and beetle bright

In sheeny gold were each a wondrous sight.

Then as we paddled barefoot, side by side.

Among the sunny shallows of the Clyde,

Minnows or spotted par with twinkling fin.

Swimming in mazy rings the pools within,

A thrill of gladness through our bosoms sent,

Seen in the power of early wonderment.^

In 1769 Mr. Baillie was appointed minister of the collegiate church at Hamilton, then a town of about six thousand inhabitants. ^ At this time Joanna was known for her fearlessness and her love of out-of-door sports. She rode any pony that came in her way. Once, when she was riding double with her elder brother, Matthew, he was thrown off, and suffered the misfortune of a broken arm. * Look at Miss Jack ! ' said an admiring farmer, * She sits her horse as if it were a bit of herself.'^

During these early years most of her energy went into play, leaving little for her studies. Her first teacher was her father, who laid a deep ethical foimdation, but neglected the three R's. She composed verses before she could read,* and astonished all her companions by

' Works, p. 811. '^ Diet. Nat. Biog. 2. 414.

^ Hamilton, p. 113; Tytler and Watson, Songstresses of Scotland 2. 187.

* Rogers, The Scottish Minstrel 1. 127.

6 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

the tales she invented for their amusement. Lucy Aikin reports the following conversation : ' " I could not read well," she [Joanna] once said to me, " till nine years old." " O Joanna," cried her sister, " not till eleven." " I made my father melancholy breakfasts," she continued, " for I used to say my lesson to him then, and I always cried over it. And yet they used to say * this girl is not stupid neither ; she is handy at her needle, and understands common matters well enough.' I rambled over the heaths and plashed in the brook most of the days." '^

Life at Hamilton was not lacking in devotion among the members of the family, but the expression of all emotion was discouraged. Mr. Baillie was by no means a genial man. Imbued with Scottish firmness of char- acter, he had also a Scot's fear of emotion. Agnes told Lucy Aikin that her father never kissed her, and Joanna confessed to the same friend her yearning as a child for the caresses of her family. ' At the hazard of his own life,* however, her father once sucked the poison from a bite which she had received from a dog that was sup- posed to be mad. 2 Joanna was chidden by her mother when she ventured to clasp her knees, * but,' she said, ' I know she liked it.'

When Joanna was about ten years of age, she and her sister were sent to Miss McDonald's boarding-school in Glasgow, where she learned to read perfectly, and studied writing, arithmetic, geography, and history. ' One of the most remarkable characteristics of Joanna during her girlhood . . . was her love for mathematics,

1 Le Breton, Memoirs, Miscellanies, and Letters of the Late Lucy Aikin, p. 9.

2 Ibid., p. 8. This is in direct opposition to Hamilton's state- ment that Joanna had little of the ' fond yearning after affection which seems to belong to women' (p. iii).

The Life of Joanna Baillie 7

and her proficiency in that study. She had always strong powers of reasoning, and a clear conception of what she had once mastered, from which qualities of her mind her natural tendency for this science probably in some degree arose, while at the same time these faculties were strengthened through its discipline. By her own unassisted exertions she advanced through a consider- able portion of Euclid, and rendered herself perfect mistress of each succeeding problem.' She also excelled in drawing, and in vocal and instrumental music.^ She had a correct ear, and learned to play her own accom- paniments on the guitar.

Lucy Aikin says that at school, by her sister's report, she was the ringleader in all pranks and frolics, and used to entertain her companions with an endless string of stories of her own invention. She was also * addicted to clambering on the roof of the house, to act over her scenes alone and in secret. '^ Evidently Agnes was her intellectual mentor, for Joanna herself says :

'Twas thou who woo'dst me first to look

Upon the page of printed book,

That thing by me abhorr'd, and with address

Didst win me from my thoughtless idleness,

When all too old become with bootless haste

In fitful sports the precious time to waste.

Thy love of tale and story was the stroke

At which my dormant fancy first awoke,

And ghosts and witches in my busy brain

Arose in sombre show, a motley train.

This new-found path attempting, proud was I,

Lurking approval on thy face to spy.

Or hear thee say, as grew thy roused attention,

' What ! is this story all thine own invention ? ''

^ Diet. Nat. Biog. 2. 414. 2 Le Breton, p. 9- « Works, p. 811,

8 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

As early as these boarding-school days, her origin- ality showed itself especially in dramatic form. She clearly remembered incidents which she had heard or read, particularly if they displayed ' any natural impulse or peculiarity of character.' All these stories she wove into dramas, which her schoolmates presented. On these occasions she acted also as costume-designer and stage- manager. ^

In 1776 Mr. Baillie was appointed Professor of Divin- ity in the University of Glasgow. The family moved there the following winter, and lived in a house provided by the University. They were surrounded by most congenial society. Joanna's tomboy-days were evidently over, for she was then regarded as a well-bred, clever girl, of whom her companions stood somewhat in awe. Even at this time her father recognized her intellectual ability, if we may judge by one story. Matthew had been directed to translate his Latin lesson into English verse, a task that for him was impossible. Mr. Bailhe, realizing the situation, said * Joanna will do it,' and she did.2

The happy school-days in Glasgow were, however, of brief duration, for in 1778 James Baillie died, leaving his wife but little inheritance besides three growing children. The loss of the father meant less to the children than if he had been a more genial man. Joanna, however, understood him remarkably well, and honored him deeply. Even in her old age she would talk of him to visitors, and with great reverence would point to his portrait. ^ About this same period she wrote an appreciation of her father, for the great-grandson who bore his name:

1 Chambers' Edinburgh Journal, N. S. 15. 257.

^ Tytler and Watson 2. 190.

^ Sprague, European Celebrities, p. 162.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 9

Thou wearst his name, who in his stinted span

Of human life, a generous, useful man.

Did well the pastor's honour'd task perform.

The toilsome way, the winter's beating storm.

Ne'er kept him from the peasant's distant cot

Where want or suffering were the inmate's lot.

Who look'd for comfort in his friendly face,

As by the sick-bed's side he took his place.

A peace-maker in each divided home

To him all strife-perplexed folk would come.

In after years how earnestly he strove

In sacred lore his students to improve !

As they met round the academic chair

Each felt a zealous friend address'd him there.

He was thy grandsire's sire, who in his day.

That, many years gone by, hath pass'd away.

On human gratitude had many claims; —

Be thou as good a man, my little James !^

Mrs. BailKe's children were all * hopeful,' and Matthew had * given uncommon application to his studies. '^ It was already decided that he should follow his imcle's profession of medicine, and he had secured a fellowship at Balliol College, Oxford. In the March of 1779, he was ready to go south, and by a long letter prepared his uncle, William Hunter of London, for his coming. He prevailed upon his mother and sisters to stay two or three days in Glasgow before his departure, in order to make the parting as easy as possible. Mrs. Baillie wrote her brother at the time : * I now give him over to you. Be a father to him — you are the only father he has alive. I hope you shall never be ashamed of his conduct, but that he shall obey your directions in everything.' ^

On Matthew's departure for Oxford, the home in Glas- gow was broken up. With Joanna and Agnes, Mrs.

1 Works, p. 821.

2 Paget, p. 237.

^ Richardson, Disciples of Aesculapius 1. 556.

10 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

Baillie returned to Long Calderwood, a house which held for her many childhood memories, and which was now owned by her brother Wilham. Dr. William Hunter, the most famous physician in London at the time, became the real father of the family ; Mrs. Baillie always remembered him as * a steady friend and affectionate brother, and to her children a steady and liberal bene- factor.'^ Matthew lived with him in London, and Mrs. BailHe received an allowance from him as long as he lived. In 1783, three years after Matthew became a member of the Himter School of Anatomy on Windmill Street, London, Dr. Hunter died. By his will, Matthew Baillie inherited the Windmill Street School of Anatomy and the house ; * all the good will of the school ; a grand museum, now the famous Himterian at Glasgow, for life ; the estate of the family in Scotland where the brothers Hunter were born [Long Calderwood] ; and the sum of £ 100 a year for life.'^ Matthew believed that Long Calderwood should belong to his uncle, John Hunter, and so in 1784 he conveyed the estate to him .2

The change from the busy hours in the city boarding- school to the quiet hfe of the country threw Joanna on her own resources. She resumed her habit of walking, but her chief enjojnnent was found in books. Aside from an occasional Scotch ballad, she does not seem to have written at all during these years. The winter of 1783 Mrs. BailHe and her daughters spent in Glasgow, where Joanna renewed and strengthened her schoolgirl friendships. After the death of Dr. Hunter, a decisive change came in the life of Joanna Baillie.

1 Richardson, p. 557. * Works, p. ix,

The Life of Joanna Baillie ii

Period of Literary Activity.

When Matthew Bailhe came into possession of the house on Windmill Street, Mrs. Baillie, Agnes, and Jo- anna moved to London, in order to keep house for him. The house was double, and stood back from the dark and narrow street. In 1790, while living there, Joanna published anonymously her first book of poems, contain- ing, among others, those which are entitled Fugitive Verses in her collected works. Only one review com- mented at all upon the book,^ and it had no sale. This failure, however, did not discourage Joanna ; it merely changed the channel of her endeavor. One hot summer afternoon, while she was seated by her mother's side engaged in needlework, the thought of attempting dra- matic composition burst upon her. In pursuance of this resolution, she worked for three months on a tragedy cdiWedi Arnold. The merit of the work cannot now be known, as it was soon destroyed.

In 1791 her brother Matthew married Sophia Denman, a sister of Lord Chief Justice Denman, and moved to a more pretentious house in Grosvenor Street. ^ Mrs. Bailhe and her daughters then sought a home of their own near London. The friendship between the two families, however, remained unbroken. In 1813 Joanna wrote a birthday-poem to Mrs. Matthew Bailhe, which was full of genuine affection :

A judgment clear, a pensive mind

With feelings tender and refined ;

A generous heart in kindness glowing,

An open hand on all bestowing ;

A temper sweet, and calm, and even

Through petty provocations given;

' This one favorable review I have been unable to find. * Richardson, p. 562.

X2 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

A soul benign, whose cheerful leisure Considers still of others' pleasure. Or, in its lonely, graver mood. Considers still of others' good ; . . . Blest wight, in whom these gifts combine, Our dear Sophia, sister mine I^

The three women tried various locahties, and finally decided upon Hampstead. The choice proved a fortunate one, and there they spent the remainder of their lives. It is, therefore, with Hampstead that Joanna Bailhe's name is most closely associated. In a poem called London, probably written shortly after their arrival, Joanna gives a delightful description of the view from Hampstead Heath :

It is a goodly sight through the clear air.

From Hampstead,'s heathy height to see at once

England's vast capitol in fair expanse.

Towers, belfries, lengthen'd streets, and structures fair.

St. Paul's high dome amidst the vassal bands

Of neighb'ring spires, a regal chieftain stands.

And over fields of ridgy roofs appear,

With distance softly tinted, side by side.

In kindred grace, like twain of sisters dear.

The Towers of Westminster, her Abbey's pride ;

While, far beyond, the hills of Surrey shine

Through thin soft haze, and show their wavy line.

View'd thus, a goodly sight ! but when survey'd

Through denser air when moisten'd winds prevail.

In her grand panoply of smoke array'd,

While clouds aloft in heavy volumes sail.

She is sublime— She seems a curtain'd gloom

Connecting heaven and earth,— a threat'ning sign of doom. . . .

So shows by day this grand imperial town.

And, when o'er all the night's black stole is thrown.

The distant traveller doth with wonder mark

Her luminous canopy athwart the dark.

^ Works, p. 812.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 13

Cast up, from myriads of lamps that shine Along her streets in many a starry line: — He wondering looks from his yet distant road, And thinks the northern streamers are abroad. ' What hollow sound is that ? ' approaching near. The roar of many wheels breaks on his ear. It is the flood of human life in motion ! It is the voice of a tempestuous ocean ! With sad but pleasing awe his soul is fill'd. Scarce heaves his breast, and all within is still'd, As many thoughts and feelings cross his mind. Thoughts, mingled, melancholy, undefined. Of restless, reckless man, and years gone by. And Time fast wending to Eternity.^

Mother and daughters were at once received into the literary circle of the town, probably on account of their family connection with Mrs. Hunter. Matthew Baillie's daughter says that she remembers clearly hearing her Aunt Agnes describe this group of famous people. In his journal for April 21, 1791, Samuel Rogers records the '^' most important happenings at a * conversation at the house of Miss Williams ' in Hampstead. Here he met Henry Mackenzie and many men of letters. When the conversation turned on Scotland, Mr. Mackenzie attacked its men of genius, and Joanna BaiUie mentioned the name of Adam Smith. Mr. Mackenzie did not allow her to make her point, but interrupted, and was off on another long tirade. Mr. Rogers describes her at that time as a very pretty woman, with a broad Scotch accent.2 With the death of Mr. Hunter in 1793, these delightful meetings ended. ^

While living among these congenial surroundings^

^ Works, p. 796. Cf. Koch, Leaves from the Diary of a Literary Amateur, p. 13.

^ Clayden, Early Life of Rogers, p. 165. * Paget, p. 191.

r

14 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

Joanna Baillie wrote her first serious dramas. In 1798 she published anonymously a volume of three dramas, entitled Plays on the Passions. This volume contained a tragedy and a comedy on Love — Basil, and The Tryal — ^and a tragedy on Hatred, the well-known De Mon- fort. In the advertisement to this first volume, the author states : * The Plays contained in this volume were all laid by for at least one year, before they were copied out to prepare them for the press ; I have there- fore had the advantage of reading them over, when they were in some measure effaced from my memory, and judging of them in some degree like an indifferent person.'^

Miss Baillie succeeded well in her attempt to keep her authorship a secret. In 1798 Thomas Campbell published a favorable review in the New Monthly Magazine, in which he attributed these plays to a man,^ as did the writer in the Critical Review. In 1799 the British Critic printed a review which was, on the whole, favorable. Soon after the pubhcation of the plaj^, the author sent a copy incognito to Miss Berry, who describes her de- light over them. She found them on her table on her return from a ball, and ' kneeled on a chair at the table to see what the book was like, and was found there — feathers and satin shoes and all — ^by the servant who came to let in the winter morning light. '^ Mrs. Piozzi wrote in her commonplace book : * I remember a knot of Literary

^ Works, p. 18.

2 Mary Berry's Letters; Monthly Review or Literary Journal 27. 66 : * Though his versification is sometimes rugged and inharmonious, and his style has an antientry of phrase which savours of affectation, yet his characters are in general strongly discriminated, and his scenes abound in beautiful passages.'

3 Autobiography of Harriet Martineau, i. 270-1 ; Biographical Sketches, p. 260,

The Life of Joanna Baillie 15

Characters met at Miss Lee's House in Bath, deciding — contrary to my own judgment — ^that a learned man must have been the author ; and I, chiefly to put the Company in good humour, maintained it was a woman. Merely, said I, because both the heroines are Dames Passees, and a man has no notion of mentioning a female after she is five and twenty, '^ During that winter Miss Berry's enthusiasm led her to discuss the dramas in public.^ In 1799 she says : * The author still retuses to come forward. — ^Neither fame nor a thousand pounds, therefore, have much effect on this said author's mind, whoever he or she may be. I say she, because, and only because, no man could or would draw such noble and dignified representations of the female mind as Countess Albini and Jane de Monfort. They often make us clever, captivating, heroic, but never rationally superior. '^ The opinio n that the author was a woman gained ground rapidly, and Ann Radchffe was generally considered to be the author. Through three hands comes a letter on this subject written by a Mrs. Jackson on May 21, 1799. She observed so much of the power of Mrs. Rad- chff's composition in these dramas that she believed them hers. She then enumerates the characteristics exhibited in the dramas, and concludes, * Her descriptive talent, used to satiety in her novels, is here employed with more temperance, and consequently to better purpose.'* That this report was wide-spread is indicated by the statement ot Mrs. Piozzi that ' Mrs. Radchlfe

^ Piozzi- Pennington Letters, p. 173.

^ Journal and Correspondence of Miss Berry 2. 88.

3 Ibid. 1. 90.

* Posthumous Works of Ann Radcliffe 1. 90-3. The biographer adds that Mrs. Radcliffe tried to find Mrs. Jackson to set the matter right, but failed, and suffered in silence. A full account is given in the Annual Biography and Obituary for 1824, pp. 100-3.

l6 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

owns herselt author, as Susan Thrale writes me word.'^ The Scotch tone furnished another clue, and many guessed that Scott himself had written them.^ In 1800, however, the series was tacitly acknowledged to be the production of a female Writer, and was generally attrib- uted to the pen of Mrs. Hunter. As late as the notices of the stage-production of De Monfort in 1800, some question existed as to the identity of its author. ^ No doubt remained, however, after the issue of the third edition in 1800, in which the name of Joanna Baillie appeared on the title-page.

In 1787 Mr. Barbauld had come to Hampstead as minister of the small dissenting chapel, and his home became the centre of a pleasant group of literary people. Among this group, before her authorship was recognized, Joanna Baillie, * a stiff, solemn Scotch girl — ^small and light in person,'* sat demurely while her work was dis- cussed.^ Her natural taciturnity stood her in good stead ; her silence passed unnoticed.^ * She and her sister, — I well remember the scene', records Lucy Aikin, ' arrived on a morning call at Mrs. Barbauld's ; my aunt immediately introduced the topic of the anon- ymous tragedies, and gave utterance to her admiration with that generous deUght in the manifestation of kin dred genius, which distinguished her. But not even the sudden dehght of such praise, so given, could seduce our Scottish damsel into self-betrayal. The faithful sister rushed forward, as we afterwards recollected, to bear the

1 Piozzi- Pennington Letters, p. 171. ^ Button, Dramatic Censor 2. 113. 3 Oulton, History of the English Theatre i. 60. ^ Hamilton, p. 117.

5 Graham, Scottish Men of Letters; Mrs. Barbauld, Works, p. 267.

* Clayden, p. 79.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 17

brunt, while the unsuspected author lay snug in the asylum of her taciturnity.'^

A critic in the Quarterly Review described the sensation caused by the first anonymous appearance of the Plays on the Passions : * The curiosity excited in the literary circle, which was then much more narrow and con- centrated than at present ; the incredulity, with which the first rumour that these vigorous and original compo- sitions came from a female hand, was received ; and the astonishment, when, after all the ladies who then en- joyed any literary celebrity had been tried and found totally wanting in the splendid faculties developed in those dramas, they were acknowledged by a gentle, quiet and retiring young woman, whose most intimate friends, we believe, had never suspected her extraordinary pcw- ers/2 Mary Berry, in her diary for 1799, says, * The first question on everyone's lips is, " Have you read the series cf plays ? " Everybody talks in the raptures I always thought they deserved of the tragedies, and of the intro- duction as of a new and admirable piece of criticism.'

Before this time, success on the stage had been a prerequisite for the publication of a drama. In this case, the order was reversed. On April 29, 1800, De M on fort was performed at the Drury Lane Theatre, with a cast that included Mrs. Siddons and John Phihp Kemble.2 The authoress was accompanied to the theatre by a large party of relatives and friends, among whom were Mr. and Mrs. Somerville. Mrs. Barbauld reported that she liked the play.* Many 3^ears later a dramatic critic wrote : * The public, when De Montfort

1 Le Breton, pp. 7-8; Mrs. Barbauld, Works i. 227.

2 Quoted at length in Museum 28. 458.

^ Genest, Some Account of the English Stage from the Restoration in 1660 to 1830 7. 465-7.

* Mrs. Barbauld, Works i. 227.

b

l8 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

was announced for representation at Drury-lane, in 1800, roused up from the periodical apathy which ever and anon comes over them ; the critics announced the approach of a new era in dramatic literature, and the talents of great actors, ^:hen in the zenith, left no doubt that the conceptions of the author would be fully realized. The excitement was great, and the disappointment com- mensurate. The audience yawned in spite of them- selves, in spite of the exquisite poetry, the vigorous passion, and the transcendent acting of John Kemble and Mrs. Siddons.'^

The years between 1800 and 1804 offer little of bio- graphical interest, as they were filled with creative work. The demand for her lirst volume of plays developed so rapidly that a fourth edition appeared in 1802, and a fifth in 1806. The preparation ol these revised editions entailed a large amount of labor. Between the first and the fifth edition hundreds of changes were made, most of which occur in the third and fourth. The most important modifications in De Monforf were made for the fourth edition. The earlier changes consist largely in punctuation and spelling ; for example, she did away in many hues with the 'd so common in the first editions. In 1802 appeared the second volume of the Plays on the Passions, which contained a comedy on hatred. The Election, and the complete treatment of ambition in Ethwald and The Second Marriage. For this volume the pubhshers are said to have paid her three hundred poimds.^ During these years she was in great demand in the Enghsh world of literature, and again turned her atten- tion to non-dramatic poetry.

Joanna Baillie was asked to write the prologue for

^ Dublin University Magazine 37. 530.

^ MacCunn, Sir Walter Scott's Friends, p. 297.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 19

Miss Berry's Fashionable Friends, which was to be pro- duced at Strawberry Hill. On October 14, 1801, she wrote from Hampstead to Miss Berry regarding it : ' I send you a plain, simple Prologue of no pretentions, but such I hope as you will not dishke ; if you do, throw it aside, and I shall not be at all offended. ... I should have sent it to you sooner, but I have been very much occupied in a great many divers ways, and of all things I hate at present to write one word more than I can possibly help.'^ Lord Palmerston was present at the production at Strawberry Hill in November ; on January 27, 1803, he wrote to Mary Berry: ' I was much pleased with Miss Baillie 's Epilogue when I heard it spoke, and it improves on reading and examination. '^

The epilogue is entirely occasional in character, and indicates the author's appreciation of the peculiar atmo- sphere of Strawberry Hill. The more serious friends of Walpole might object to the production of a sentimental comedy under his roof. In order to forestall such criticism, Miss Baillie stated plainly their objections, and then replied : —

But he wlio o'er our heads these arches bent. And stored these relics dear to sentiment, More mild than you with grave pedantic pride. Would not have ranged him on your surly side.

The concluding passage was strictly according to the standard for epilogues :

But now to you, who on our frolic scene. Have look'd well pleased, and gentle critics been ; Nor would our homely humour proudly spurn, To you the good, the gay, the fair, I turn,

^ Journal and Correspondence of Miss Berry 2. 116, note.

2 Berry Papers, p. 202. This poem was evidently used as an epilogue {Works, p. 794). Melville says that she wrote both prologue and epilogue {Berry Papers, p. 200).

b2

20 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

And thank you all. If here our feeble powers Have lightly wing'd for you some wintry hours ; Should these remember'd scenes in fancy live, And to some future minutes pleasure give, To right good end we've worn our mumming guise. And we're repaid and happy— ay, and wise.

The performance was a great success ; John Kemble was so pleased with the drama that he obtained per- mission to produce it at Drury Lane. It was, however, a ' hot-house plant ... of the modish mimosa class/ and had only two representations. ^

In 1804 Miss Baillie published, in opposition to her clearly stated purpose, a volume of Miscellaneous Plays, containing Constantine Paleologus, one of her most successful dramas, The Country Inn, and Rayner, the last of which had been written many years. ^ Lord Palmerston's fears that the volume might not be so well received as the last^ proved to be unfounded, as a second edition was necessary in 1805.

Home life, too, demanded much of her time. ' The first thing,' wrote Lucy Aikin, ' which drew upon Joanna the admiring notice of Hampstead society was the devoted assiduity of her attention to her mother, then blind as well as aged, whom she attended day and night.'* An American visitor in 1801 found her one Sunday morning reading the Bible to her mother, who was then quite bhnd.^ But there was joy as well as sorrow in the lives of the Baillies. Christmas Day, 1802, they spent at Dr. Matthew Bailhe's home, with the families of their relatives and friends. It was a large and

^ Hibernia Magazine, Dublin, June, 1810, p. 336.

^ Works, p. 389.

^ Berry Papers, p. 202.

* Le Breton, p. 8; Works, p. XIII.

* Mrs. Fletcher, Autobiography, p. 230,

The Life of Joanna Baillie 21

merry party. The evening was begun with dancing, which Joanna enjoyed with the others. Afterwards they played a variety of Christmas games, among others one called ' Baiting the Bear.' This pastime did not last long, as it excluded the ladies, but the enjoyment was so hearty that one of the men said, ' I do not believe the hall of a Somersetshire Squire could have held more noise and mirth than this elegant London drawing room did for the time it lasted. We . . . finished the evening with Cross Questions and Consequences. '^

The year 1808 brought the first great grief into her life. The mother, who had lived to see her daughter famous, slipped away from the Hampstead home. Death must have been a relief to the blind, paralyzed old lady, and there is every indication that her daughters so considered it.

The same year brought to Joanna Baillie one of her greatest pleasures, the friendship of Walter Scott. On December 7, 1801, he wrote to Mr. Ellis that he had just completed The House of Aspen, which he thought would rank well beside The Castle Spectre and ' the other drum and trumpet exhibitions of the day.' When he read the Plays on the Passions, however, his standard was so raised that he declared himself entirely ' out of conceit with his Germanized brat. '2 In 1806 Scott visited London, and first met Joanna Bailhe. To WilHam Sotheby, one of her warmest admirers, fell the honor of introducing them. The impression she formed of him was typical of the woman. T was at first a little disappointed,' she confesses, ' for I was fresh from the Lay, and had pictured to myself an ideal elegance and refinement of feature ; but I said to myself. If I had been in a crowd, and at a loss what to do, I should have fixed upon that face among

' Koch, p. lO.

- Lockhart, Life of Sir Walter Scott i. 314. »

22 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

a thousand, as the sure index of the benevolence and the shrewdness that would and could help me in any strait ! We had not talked long, however, before I saw in the ex- pressive play of his countenance far more even of elegance and refinement than I had missed in its mere lines. '^

During the spring of 1808 the sisters visited the Western Highlands and Glasgow. The wild, romantic scenery at the falls of Moness affected Joanna to tears. She remained for an hour, although she was drenched by the rain that fell all the time she was there. ^ In Glasgow she became acquainted with the ' Shoemaker Poet ' Struthers, who had been unable to seciure a publisher for his poem, The Poor Man's Sabbath. Joanna at once wrote to Scott, who persuaded Constable to publish the manuscript. The book was never very successful, but it was sold to Constable on such advantageous terms that the respectable sum of £30 to £40 accrued from it to the author. 3 This seems to be the first of her successful attemps to interest her literary friends in behalf of the unfortunate.

In March and April, 1808, the sisters were the guests of Walter Scott at 39 Castle Street, Edinburgh.* Scott asked Joanna for her honest opinion of his House of Aspen, and before she left Edinburgh, she sent him a careful criticism of it. Her letter shows a grasp of the essentials of dramatic construction, and the courage to tell him the truth. ^

In May the sisters went further north, evidently in search of inspiration, as Scott wrote Joanna on May 9, ' Nothing will give me more pleasure than to hear that

1 Lockhart i. 478-9.

- Hamilton, p. 124; Tytler and Watson 2. 239.

^ Lockhart 2. 60-1, 78.

^ Familiar Letters of Sir Walter Scott i. 98.

^ Ibid. I. 104.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 23

you have found the northern breezes fraught with in- spiration.' Can the following sentence suggest that, in her disappointment over the stage-success of her drama, Joanna was failing to produce the amount of work expected and desired by her friends ? ' You are not entitled,' Scott says, * to spare yourself, and none is so deeply interested in your labors as your truly respect- ful friend and admirer. '^ During the same summer she visited the English lake-region, but encountered bad weather. Scott writes her in September, ' Did Miss Agnes Baillie and you meet with any of the poetical inhabitants of that district — Wordsworth, Southey, or Coleridge ? The two former would, I am sure, have been happy in paying their respects to you ; with the habits and tastes of the latter I am less acquainted. '^ In a letter dated Keswick, December 7, 1808, Southey writes, ' Saving Joanna Baillie, we had no very interesting people this season, '^ thus answering Scott's question in the affirmative.

She probably did not know Wordsworth as early as this. The first reference to their acquaintance occurs in a letter of May 31, 181 2, in which is recorded a conver- sation between them, relative to Mrs. Walter Scott.* Evidently the sisters did not visit their birthplace at Bothwell during this trip, for Mary Berry was there in August, and wrote Joanna about it in detail.*

In 1809 the Scott family came to London, and Sophia was seat to Hampstead for the advantages of air and sunshine. Under the guidance of the sisters, Sophia gained so markedly that the experiment was repeated

1 Lockhart 2. 60. *

^ Ibid. 2. 77.

' Southey Letters 2. 115.

* Sadler i. 390.

* Journal and Correspondence of Miss Berry 2. 367.

•24 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

on a later visit. ^ The summer of 1810 Joanna spent at her brother's country home in Gloucestershire, but she returned to Hampstead for the winter. 2

Form 1804 to 1810 Miss Baillie published no new dramas. In 1810, however, there appeared a * free, independent play,' The Family Legend. The story of the writing of this drama is so indicative of her philan- thropic spirit that it is worth following. The story, from which she took the plot was put into her hands in 1805 by Mrs. Damer, as a legend long preserved in her mother's family. It appeared to Miss BailUe well fitted to produce a strong effect on the stage, and was, besides, a story of her native land. As she was at the time in quest of some subject for a drama, she seized upon this plot eagerly. She seems not to have known that the same legend had been dramatized by Holcroft, under the title The Lady of the Rocks, and had been acted at Drury Lane that very year.^

About this time Sir John Sinclair submitted to her, through her brother, the outline of a drama on the fall of Darius, which he considered more adapted for stage- effect than was De Monfort. As an inducement to undertake the task, he proposed that she should ' dedi- cate the profits of the play to a specific charitable pur- pose,— the support of Mr. M.'s family.' Miss BailHe's reply does her much credit:

Hampstead, October 19. 1805.

My Dear Brother,

I have considered the proposal contained in Sir John Sinclair's letter, and the ingenious sketch for a tragedy that accompanies it, with the attention they deserve ; and very much regret, it is not in my power, to make the good use of them which he does

* Tytler and Watson 2. 243.

^ Lockhart 2. 199.

^ Dublin University Magazine 37. 531.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 25

me the honour to suppose I might, and which I should have so much pleasure in attempting. You may well know I am so circumstanced, that I cannot possibly offer any play for represen- tation to either Drury Lane or Covent Garden, nor suffer one of my writing to be offered to either of those theatres through any medium whatever.^ To give up all idea, however, of being use- ful to a worthy family, on whom bad fortune. has borne so hard, is very painful to me ; and, therefore, though I cannot undertake what Sir John has pointed out, there is another way in which I might attempt to serve them ; and if it should meet with his approbation, and be at the same time perfectly agreeable to Mr.— and his family, I shall set myself to work in it most cheer- fully ; that is, to write a tragedy upon some interesting, but more private and domestic story than that of Darius, which appears to me only fitted for the splendour of a large theatre, and to put it into Sir John's hands, to be offered to the Edinburgh theatre, or any theatre in the united kingdom he may think proper, those of London excepted. If the piece should prove successful, though it might not bring in a large sum from re- presentation, yet it might be published afterwards, in any way that should be thought most advantageous for Mr. — and his family, (whose property I should completely consider it as having become), and produce something considerable.

I beg you will communicate this proposal to Sir John Sinclair, along with my acknowledgments for the obliging expressions on my account contained in his letter, and for the pleasure I have received in reading his outline of a tragedy, which, if properly filled up, would no doubt make a striking spectacle in a grand theatre such as Drury Lane.

When he has considered it, I hope he will have the goodness to let you know his opinion, without loss of time ; and if it is favour- able, no exertion in my power shall be wanting to complete the work.^

In 1809 Scott visited Mary Berry, and heard this play, The Family Legend, read aloud. Miss Berry says : * It had a vast effect upon Walter Scott, and one that was very pleasing from the evident feeling of one poet

^ This opinion she later changed (cf. page 159 ff.). ^ Correspondence of Sir John Sinclair i. 167-70.

26 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

for another. '1 He at once arranged for its presentation in Edinburgh, and later it was published by the Ballan- tynes, largely on the strength of Sir Walter's statement that ' people are dying to read it.'^ On February y, 1810, Joanna wrote Sir John Sinclair that it was a satis- faction to her to think that the play might still, in one way or another, be made of some small use to the family for whose benefit it was originally written, if such assistance should still be wanted.^

The gift of the proceeds of this drama was in accord with her regular custom. The Baillies' income, aside from the profits of Joanna's writings, was large enough to make them independent, but not to afford any luxuries.''^ From the first she followed the rule of Zacchaeus, and gave one half of her income to charity. Even when prosperity brought the sisters increased wants and expenditures, Joanna did not allow her charities to suffer. At this time she is described as small in figure, with a ' mean and shuffling gait ' ; this picture is redeemed by the addition, * her manners are those of a wellbred woman. She has none of the unpleasant airs too common to lit- erary ladies.'

In 1812 a third volume oi Plays on thePassions appeared. It contained three dramas, deahng with the passion of Fear — Orra, The Dream, and The Siege — and a musical drama illustrating Hope — The Beacon. In her preface to the reader, the author comments upon her silence of nine years, and adds naively, ' I could offer some reasonable excuse for an apparent relaxation of industry, were I not afraid it might seem to infer a greater degree of expec-

' Journal and Correspondence of Miss Berry 2. 381. - Lockhart 2. 152.

^ Correspondence of Sir John Sinclair i. 167-70. ♦ •^ Rogers i. 129.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 27

tation or desire, on the part of my Readers, to receive the remainder of the work, than I am at all entitled to suppose.'^ In addition to the plays in this volume, Joanna Baillie was writing numerous short poems at this time. The superior number of The Edinburgh Annual Register of 1808 contained poems by Southey, Scott, Miss Baillie, and others, which the English reviewer thinks * ought to put our English registers upon their mettle.' Her contributions are descriptive portraits of such subjects as The Kitten and The Heathcock.^ In 1810 the British Critic reprinted The Heathcock as one of the two notable poems in the collection. That she had not given up dramatic writing is proved by later publications.

The greater part of her traveling was done during these years. In 18 14 she made a short visit in Wales. ^ The summer and early fall of 1816 were noteworthy because they were spent on the Continent. Switzerland seems to have been the scene of her travels ; later she dates an occurrence as ' when I returned from Switzer- land.'^ On November 27 Scott writes to welcome her back to England, and to thank her for the description of the Alps which she had sent him.^ If she visited France during the time her friends the Berrys were there, it left no lasting impression upon her, as she does not mention that country.*'' In 1817, accompanied by her sister Agnes, she made another brief visit to Edinburgh.'

' Works, p. 228.

- Monthly Mirror, N. S. 9. 48.

^ Familiar Letters 1. 331.

* Ibid. I. 414.

^ Ibid. I. 369.

« Tytler and Watson 2. 267.

' Paston. Little Memoirs of the 18th Century, p. 285.

28 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

During this trip she visited Scott at Abbot sford. The manager of the Edinburgh Theatre is authority for the following anecdote concerning this visit, which he tells in order to illustrate the natural simplicity of her character:

She was taken to see the ruins of Melrose Abbey, we conclude, as a matter of course, ' by the pale moonlight,' as the poet re- commends. The wonders of the eastern window were especially pointed out to her, with the complicated and delicate tracery of the arches, in some portions as clearly defined as when they first received outline and form from the chisel of the cutter. All stood silently round, and turned towards the great poetic lioness, expecting some burst of high-flown admiration, or fervid eulo- gjum. Notebooks were beginning to peep out, ears were erect, and expectation on the tip-toe. After gazing intently for some moments, she said quietly, and almost to herself, ' It is really very fine — what a beautiful pattern it would make!* The loftiest genius dwells not always on Olympus, but sometimes treads on level ground, and descends to the thoughts and feelings of everyday humanity,

Scott describes her about this time as carrying * her literary reputation as freely and easily as the milk-maid in my country does the leglen, which she carries on her head, and walks as gracefully with it as a duchess. Some of the fair sex, and some of the foul sex, too, carry their renown in London fashion on a yoke and a pair of pitchers/2 The same tone is found in another description of her appearance at this time : * I saw a small, prim, and Quaker-hke looking person, in plain attire, with gentle, unobtrusive manners, and devoid of affectation ; rather silent, and more inclined to listen than to talk. There was no tinge of the blue-stocking in her style of conver- sation, no assumption of conscious importance in her

^ Dublin University Magazine^y. 529. * Lockhart 4. 3,

The Life of Joanna Baillie 29

demeanor, and less of literary display than in any author or authoress I had ever been in company with. It was difficult to persuade yourself that the little, insignificant, and rather commonplace-looking individual before you, could have conceived and embodied with such potent energy, the deadly hatred of De Montfort, or the fiery love of Basil. '^

On her return she began the Metrical Legends of E xalted Characters. In March, 1817, encouraged by Scott, she was at work on the legend of Lady Griseld Baillie.^ For this volume Longman and Company are said to have paid her one thousand pounds.

In the fall of 1823 her brother Matthew was very ill, and she tended him ' with the utmost solicitude.' His death on September 23 was a great blow to her, but she met it with firmness. Her self-control troubled Scott, who wrote, ' I am truly concerned about Joanna, for she is not strong, and hkely to suffer under the excess of her feeling.'^

The most pretentious of her philanthropic efforts resulted in a book that appeared in 1823. On June 26, 1822, Scott wrote to Byron that all ll^ had done lately was a dramatic sketch at the request of Joanna Baillie, which was intended for a ' Pic-nic publication which she means to publish for the benefit of a friend who had been unfortunate in trade.'* This beneficiary, according to Scott, was a Scotch gentleman long distinguished in the commerce of the city of London. The volume

' Dublin University Magazine 37. 529.

'^ Familiar Letters i. 422.

•' Ibid. 2. 177.

* The Works of Lord Byron, Letters and Journal, ed. Prothero 6. 55. The manuscript was sent to her Jan, 8., 1823 {Familiar Letters 2. 161).

30 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

appeared under the title, A Collection of Poems, chiefly Manuscript and from Living Authors, Edited for the Benefit of a Friend by Joanna Baillie. The hst of contributors was quite remarkable, as it included such names as Scott, Campbell, Southey, Wordsworth, Crabbe, Rogers, and ' many minor poets, among whom,' the British Critic remarks, * the Editor maintains a conspicuous station.' Among the minor poets we find several women — Mrs. Hemans, Mrs. Barbauld, Mrs. John Hunter, Anna Maria Porter, and Mrs. Grant of Laggan. The Eclectic Review states that ' among the contributors the first and fore- most is, as it should be. Sir Walter Scott, who has furnished an idle tale (Duff's Cross) for which he apolo- gizes.' In none of the reviews is any mention made of the poems which are now the best known, Southey's Cataract of Lodore, and Wordsworth's sonnet. Not Love nor War. In a letter of December 7, 1822, Southey says that his poems were placed in this collection, not by his own choice, but by Miss Baillie 's desire.^ Following the custom of the time, the book was pubhshed by sub- scription. The Hst of subscribers is long, and contains many famous names, so that it is no wonder that the book was a pecuniary success. The liberality of her book- seller, printer, and stationer reduced the expenses of publication to those merely of cost charges. 2

In the Advertisement the editor says that the contri- butors have enabled her, in a year so peculiarly unfavor- able for such an undertaking, to promote the object for which it is published far beyond what she could have hoped, and that they have thereby done a permanent service to one who is worthy of receiving it.' On July 1st, 1823, she reported to Walter Scott : ' I took hold of

^ Southey's Letters 3. 353.

- Edition of 1823, Advertisement, p. VIII.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 31

your strong arm at the very beginning, and, leaning upon that, put forth my hand and caught at all the rest of the Poetical Brotherhood likely to do me any good. And great good has come of it, for after paying all expenses of printing, etc., which came to £313 or £330, I forget which, we have realized for my friend two thousand two hundred per cent, stock, and when we have sold all the copies intended for Indian subscribers, we shall add better than two hundred more.'^ So much for the efforts of the editor, who also played the parts of critic and con- tributor.

In May of 1823, Wilson, in his Nodes Ambrosiana, includes a discussion of this volume as follows :

Hogg— Ay— there's for a thing, Miss Joanna Baillie's Collection of poems.

Tickler— Ha ! ! I had not heard of her being in the press. Tra- gic, I hope.

Kempferhausen— You will find the book on the side-table — yes— that's it— that octavo in greenish— you will see that 't is only edited by Miss Baillie, although there are several pieces of hers included,

Hogg — And some very bonny pieces among them —

Odoherty— Well, that's truly excellent. Well, we're all much obliged to Miss Baillie.^

Her Friendships.

Joanna BailHe's Hfe is often described as sohtary, and wanting in excitement and variety. Such, however, seems not to be the case, for the following years were enlived by constant association with a large circle of friends. In 181 1 Sir Walter Scott wrote to her : ' You, who are always in the way of seeing, and commanding, and selecting your society, are too fastidious to under-

^ Familiar Letters 2. 162, note.

^ Wilson, Nodes Ambrosiana i. 311.

r

32 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

stand how a dearth of news may make anybody welcome that can tell one the current report of the day.'^ This is an accurate statement of the facts, for to the simple home in Hampstead went most of the noted literary men and women of England, as well as many from other countries. In Hampstead she was a delightful hostess ; in London, a welcome guest. Not all of those who came in contact with her have recorded their experiences, but mention of her is found in numerous journals and letters. Foremost stands Sir Walter Scott, who is unsurpassed in his admiration for her. The story of their friendship is one of the simplest and most natural in literary history. Their intercourse was the pleasantest social element in her life, and was genuinely prized by Scott. George Ticknor writes on April 7, 1838 ' I do not wonder that Scott in his letters treats her with more deference and writes to her with more care and beauty, than to any other of his correspondents, however high-titled. '^ One has only to glance at the volumes of Scott's letters to realize how large a number are directed to her. The closeness of their friendship is shown also by his affection- ate address, * My Dearest Friend, '^ and by the fact that he ' would give as much to have a capital picture of her as for any portrait in the world.'*

They discussed at length his dramatic power, and finally she wrote him : * You have ample powers, and the favor of the pubhc into the bargain ; and if I must be eclipsed in my own demesne, I will take it from your hand rather than from any other. Send me a better play than any I have to boast of, and if a shade of human infirmity should pass over my mind for a moment, by

^ Lockhart 2. 235.

^ Life of George Ticknor 2. 153.

^ Lockhart 2. 320.

* Ibid. 5. 171.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 33

the setting of the sun I shall love you more than ever.'^ One of the pleasantest customs which Scott had instituted in his home circle was that of reading aloud literature which interested him. He asked some member of the circle — Erskine, Ballantyne, or Terry — to read, when the book was ' comedy, or, indeed, any other drama than Shakespeare's or Joanna Baillie 's.' 2

On July 17th, 1810, during a trip to the Hebrides, Scott visited the Lady's Rock in the Sound of Mull, the scene of The Family Legend. He wrote to Joanna BailKe on the 19th : ' I wished to have picked a rehc from it, were it but a cockle-shell or a mussel, to have sent to you ; but a spring-tide was running with such force and velocity as to make the thing impossible. '^ In lieu of this, he planned to fold inside of his letter a hallowed green pebble from the shore of St. Columba : ' Put it into your workbasket until we meet,' he wrote : ' when you will give me some account of its virtues.'^ He delayed, however, until November 23, when he sent it to her in the form of a brooch, whose significance he described as follows : ' I hope you will set some value upon this little trumpery brooch, because it is a harp, and a Scotch harp, and set with lona stones. This last circumstance is more valuable, if ancient tales be true, than can be ascertained from the reports of dull modern lapidaries. These green stones, blessed of St. Columba, have a virtue, saith old Martin, to gratify each of them a single wish of the wearer. I believe, that which is most frequently formed by those who gather them upon the shores of the Saint, is for a fair wind to transport them from his domains. Now, after this, you must suppose everything respecting

1 Familiar Letters i. 273. ^ Lockhart 3. 254. 3 Ihid. 2. i8q. * Ihid. 2. 193.

34 The Life and Work oj Joanna Baillie

this said harp sacred and hallowed. The very inscription is, you will please to observe, in the ancient Celtic language and character, and has a very talismanic look. I hope that upon you it will have the effect of a conjuration, for the words Buail a'n Teud signify Strike the String ; and thus having, like the pedlars who deal in hke matters of value, exhausted all my eloquence in setting forth the excellent outward quahties and mysterious virtues of my little keepsake, I have only to add, in homely phrase, God give you joy to wear it.'^ In the earliest and best portrait of Joanna Baillie, this brooch fastens her collar.

When Joanna Baillie sent him a copy of Orra and its companion-dramas, she wrote him that it was to be her last publication, and that she was getting her knitting- needles in order, meaning to begin her new course of industry with a piu-se, by way of return for his lona brooch.2 On January 17, 1812, Scott rephed that the promise of the purse had so flattered his imagination that he had sent her an ancient silver mouthpiece for it ; ' this, besides, is a genteel way of tying you down to your promise, ' ^ he added. The gift was finished by March 4th, when she wrote to him : ' I have worked with pleasure at it for some time past, when I could be pleased with no other employment. It put me in mind of an old woman in Hamilton who was haunted by the Deil ; and she got some flax to spin from my mother, which proved a great blessing to her, for she returned in a few days, telling my mother with great delight that as long as she was employed in spinning the minister's yarn the Deil had no power over her. Don't suppose, however, that

^ Lockhart 2. 198. ^ Ibid. 2. 239. * Ibid. 2. 260.

The Lije oj Joanna Baillie 35

working for you has charmed down a very evil spirit, tliougli I confess it has had power over a dull, and often a very cross one.'^ On April 4th, he describes the * nick- nackatory ' with wdiich he has supplied his purse, as it was too valuable to hold common coins. ^ In 1813 Scott was made very happy by receiving from her a gold ring enclosing hair from the head of King Charles, with the word ' Remember ' surrounding it.^

Once more an exchange of gifts occurred, for in March of 1813 Scott acknowledged the receipt of pinaster seeds, which she sent for the new grounds at Abbotsford.* The precious trees grew slowly in the nursery, and with them matured his plan for their disposal. By November, 1 815, when they were ready to be set out, he had decided to turn an old gravel-pit on the grounds into a bower of evergreen shrubs, with all varieties of holly and cedar, and to call it Joanna's Bower.^

These good friends met on many occasions both at Abbotsford and in England/^ on several of which Mrs. Scott and Sophia joined. George Ticknor says that her talk concerning her friend was always marked by a 'tender enthusiasm that was contagious.'" In spite of their close friendship, Scott did not divulge to her the seci'ets of his authorship. As late as 1817 she was not sure that he was the author of Waverley, although she suspected that he w^as.^ When Scott was told of the

I

' Familiar Letters i. 245.

- Lockhart 2. 267-8.

=' Familiar Letters i. 288; Lockhart 2. 372

* Lockhart 2. 320, 364, 371, " Ibid. 3. 77-8,

* Ibid. I. 478; 2. 64; 3. 32; 5. 171; Mrs. Barbauld, Works 2. 133 ; Tytler and Wfeitson 2. 263 ; Journal of Sir Walter Scott, p. 198.

' Life of George Ticknor 2, 153.

* Familiar Letters 2. 45.

c 2

36 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

rumor that he had made Mrs. Grant of Laggan his con- fidant in regard to his authorship of the Waverley novels, he wrote to Maria Edgeworth, ' I cannot conceive why the deuce I should have selected her for a mother- confessor ; if it had been yourself, or Joanna, there might have been some probability in the report/ ^ That Scott's enthusiasm for his friend was so great as to color his critical judgment, is shown in the quotation from Marmion^ which is reproduced below on page 85.

She was equally enthusiastic, and in November, 1832, gave expression to her admiration in Lines on the Death of Sir Walter Scott. She places Scott above Byron, on account of the ' fair fame and influence ' of his writings, and even declares that his story-telling art

. . . o'er these common foes will oft prevail,

When Homer's theme and Milton's song would fail.**

She disapproved of Lockhart's Life of Scott, because it revealed a man less perfect than her ideal, and, according to Harriet Martineau, was very unhappy over its publi- cation.

Among Joanna Baillie's * thousand admirers,'^ as Scott called them, were Wordsworth, Lord and Lady Byron, Southey, Maria Edgeworth, George EUis, John Richard- son, Mrs. Hemans, George Crabbe, Henry Reeve, William Sotheby, LucyAikin, Henry Crabb Robinson, Mrs. Grant of Laggan, Mrs. Jameson, Mrs. Siddons, George Ticknor, Harriet Martineau, Mary Berry, Mrs. Barbauld, WilHam Erskine, Daniel Terry, and WiUiam Ellery Channing.

Scott's desire that Miss Baillie should meet Words- worth has already been mentioned. The records of

^ Lockhart 4. 165 ; Graham, A Group of Scottish Women 2. 288. ^ Scott, Marmion, Introduction to Canto III, 97-110. •^ Works, p. 793. * Lockhart 2. 264.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 37

their acquaintance are meagre, and include little besides scraps of their conversation. In the spring of 1812, Joanna BaiHie, as well as Wordsworth, had met Sir Humphrey and Lady Davy, and she referred to them in her remark to Wordsworth, ' We have witnessed a pic- turesque happiness.' The conversation then turned to Mrs. Scott, who was spoken of rather disparagingly. Miss Baillie at once took up the cudgels in her behalf: ' When I visited her I thought I saw a great deal to like. She seemed to admire and look up to her husband. She was very kind to her guests. Her children were well-bred, and the house was in excellent order. And she had some smart roses in her cap, and I did not like her the less for that.'^ The sentence with which this chapter opens is recorded on May 24, 1812, in connection with a walk through the fields to Hampstead which Robinson enjoyed with Wordsworth. They met Joanna Baillie on the road, and accompanied her home. Mr. Robinson des- cribed the small figure in some detail, and concludes with Wordsworth's eulogy. ^ This same conversation contains some hints as to Miss Baillie's political opinions. .> Robinson says that Wordsworth was eloquent in his ar- raignment of the press on the ground that it spread dissatisfaction. ' Miss Baillie concurred wdth him in thinking that the utter extinction of all love for the royal family, and the very slight attachment remaining to the constitution itself, are very menacing signs of the times. We dined with them,' Robinson continues, ' and Words- worth talked with a great deal of eloquence, both on politics and poetry, and he was well listened to, and not effusively opposed, and on the state of the country Wordsworth always speaks excellently. '^ On May 26th,

^ Sadler i. 390.

- Ibid. I. 385-

' Knight, Life of Wordsworth 2. 193.

38 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

1836, Talfourd's Ion was performed for the first time at Covent Gardon, with Macready and Ellen Tree as the chief actors. The audience included Wordsworth, Henry Crabb Robinson, Landor, and Joanna Baillie, who sat in a box, next to that occupied by Wordsworth. When Wordsworth entered, the audience cheered him. He leaned over to shake hands with Miss Baillie, removed his green spectacles, and nodded to those in the house whom he recognized.^

One of Miss Baillie's friends was the Hon. Judith Milbanke, whose daughter was the future Lady Byron. - Their correspondence was mentioned by Mrs. Hunter in a letter to Joanna Baillie, written before 1793.^ In November, 181 1, Samuel Rogers gave a remarkable dinner at which his guests were Moore, Campbell, and Byron. The conversation made a deep impression on him, and he says ; ' My guests stayed very late, dis- cussing the merits of Walter Scott and Joanna Baillie.'* Another record of Byron's discussion of her work is preserved in a letter of Lucy Aikin from Edinburgh on January 27, 1812. She says, ' Mrs. F — had a warm debate with him [Byron] on the merit of Miss BaiUie's new volume, which she thought he undervalued.'^ Byron, however, had not as yet met Miss Bailhe, as on Spetember 6, 1813 he wrote to Miss Milbanke : * Nothing could do me more honor than the acquaintance of that Lady, who does not possess a more enthusiastic admirer than myself. She is our only dramatist since Otway and

1 Knight 3. 265 ; Rannie, Wordsworth and his Circle, p. 305 ; Dix, Lions : Living and Dead, pp. 345-52. ^ Familiar Letters i. 298. ^ Paget, p. 193. * Rogers, Table Talk, p. 228. ^ T.e Breton, p. 91.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 39

Southerne ; I don't except Home/^ This admiration continued, for in 1815 he wrote to Moore, ' Women (saving Joanna Baillie) cannot write tragedy. '^ The failure of Do Man fort on the London stage had not entirely discouraged Joanna Baillie's friends, who con- tinued to believe that other plays might succeed. Byron was a member of the committee of management of the Drury Lane Theatre in 1815, and seems to have tried to secure a renewal of interest in her plays, as he respected her tragic power very highly. ^ Scott wrote her in 1815 : ' I do most devoutly hope Lord Byron will succeed in his proposal of bringing out one of your dramas ; that he is your sincere admirer is only synonymous with his being a man of genius ;....[!] heartily wish you would take Lord B. into your counsels, and adjust, from your yet unpublished materials, some drama for the pubHc. In such a case, I would, in your place, conceal my name till the issue of the adventure .... the object of the dramatist is professedly to dehght the public at large, and therefore I think you should make the experiment fairly.'* His only adverse criticism occurred in 1821, when he wrote to John Murray from Ravenna in regard to the books that were being sent to him. After ex- pressing his disgust in general, he particularizes as follows : ' Campbell is lecturing, Moore idling, Southey twaddling, Wordsworth driveling, Coleridge muddling, Joanna Baillie piddling, Bowles quibbling, squabbling, and sniveling.'^ Twelve days later, however, he writes to the same John Murray proposing that he send him only ' any writings, prose or verse of ... . Walter Scott, Crabbe, Moore,

^ Byron, ed. Prothero 3. 399.

- Ibid. 3. 197.

•' i'hc Works of Lord Byron, Poetry, ed. Coleridge 4. 339.

* f>ockhart 3. 79.

* f>yron, ed. Prothero 5. 362.

r

40 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

Campbell, Rogers, Gifford, Joanna Baillie, Irving (the American) , Hogg, etc/^ No mention of her occurs during the last two years of his life ; perhaps she, too, was ostracized. 2

Lucy Aikin wrote to Channing in 1833 regarding Joanna's poem in memory of Scott, in which she says : ' I know not why she should have taken this opportunity to strike at Byron ; no need of crying down one poet in order to cry up another ; nor sink my [opinion] of his poetical capacity, in which he will still be judged to soar far above the height of Scott. '^ The lines are as follows :

For who shall virtuous sympathies resign. Or feed foul fancies from a page of thine ? No, none ! thy writings as thy life are pure. And their fair fame and influence will endure.

Not so with those where perverse skill pourtrays Distorted, blighting passions ; and displays, Wild, maniac, selfish fiends to be admired. As heroes with sublimest ardour fired. Such are, to what thy faithful pen hath traced. With all the shades of varied nature graced. Like grim cartoons, for Flemish looms prepared. To Titian's or Murillo's forms compared.*

An undated poem, which undoubtedly belongs to her old age, records her enduring friendship for Lady B5n:on, and hints at disapproval of the * moody lord.' Recollections of a Dear and Steady Friend she calls this poem, in which she traces the change in her friend from the time

when in virgin grace I first beheld her laughing, lovely face

1 Byron, ed. Prothero 5. 373.

^ The last reference to Joanna Baillie is Sept. 24, 1821 {Ibid. 5- 373). and Byron died April 19, 1824. ^ Le Breton, p. 282. * Works, p. 793.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 41

to the day years later when

within her chamber-walls confined She sadly dwells and strives to be resign'd. Her span of life, yet short, though rough the past. May still through further years of languor last.^ ^

In 1834 Henry Reeve took up his residence at Hamp- stead, and came into contact with the hterary circle which influenced materially his later career. He went often to the Richardson's, where, among others, he met Joanna BailHe.^

As early as 1806, Wilham Sotheby was counted among her friends. The permanence of their friendship is proved by his dedication to her in 1814 of a volume containing five tragedies. After acknowledging * the hazardous comparison ' to which he subjected himself by this dedication, he declares ' that consideration, however, will not deter me from thus publicly expressing my high admiration of your poetic powers, and the enjoyment that I have long experienced from a friendship which has convinced me that the qualities of your heart enhance those of your genius.' When Sotheby was an old man, he told Frances Kemble of a visit he once paid to Miss Baillie. She was not rich, kept few servants, and some- times made her own puddings. On Sotheby's arrival she was up to the elbows in flour, and so she called him into the kitchen, and bade him take a paper from her pocket. ' It was a play-bill sent to her by some friend in the country, setting forth that some obscure pro- vincial company was about to perform Miss Joanna Baillie 's celebrated tragedy of De Monfort. " There," exclaimed the culinary Melpomene, " there, Sotheby,

1 Works, p. 808.

^ Laughton i. 34, 116.

42 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

I am so happy ! You see my plays can be acted some- where!'"^

Samuel Rogers often visited Hampstead before Joanna was known as the author of De Monfort, and described the quiet dignity by which she preserved her secret. Her intercourse with Rogers was constant, and many letters passed between them.^ The following letter wiitten to Rogers in 1832 indicates the genuineness of their friendship:

And now I mean to thank you for another obligation that you are not so well aware of. Do you remember when I told you, a good while since, of my intention of looking over all my works to correct them for an edition to be published after my decease, should it be called for, and you giving me a hint never to let which stand where a that might serve the purpose, to prefer the words while to whilst, among to amongst, etc. ? I acquiesced in all this most readily, throwing as much scorn upon the rejected expressions as anybody would do, and with all the ease of one who from natural taste had always avoided them. If you do, you will guess what has been my surprise and mortification to find through whole pages of even my last dramas, * whiches,' ' whilsts ' and ' amongsts,' etc., where they need not have been in abundance. Well, I have profited by your hint, though I was not aware that I needed it at the time when it was given, and now I thank you for it very sincerely. I cannot imagine how I came to make this mistake, if it had not been that, in writing songs, I have often rejected the words in question because they do not sound well in singing. I have very lately finished my corrections, and now all my literary tasks are finished. It is time they should, and more serious thoughts fill up their room, or ought to do.^

From this letter we may infer that Rogers was the critic from whom she says she received * very great and useful service — service that, at the beginning of my

^ Kemble, Recollections of a Girlhood, p. 350.

^ Clayden, p. 79.

* Ingpen, Women as Letter Writers, p. 343.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 43

dramatic attempts, enabled me to make better head against criticism of a different character.'

Mrs. Sigourney found Rogers with the Misses BaiUie when she visited their home in Hampstead, and preserved the picture in verse :

But greater wealth I found Than richest flowers, or diamonds of the mine. Beneath a quiet roof. For she was there. Whose wand Shakesperian knew to touch at will The varying passions of the souls, and chain Their tameless natures in her magic verse. Fast by that loving sister's side she sat. Who wears all freshly, mid her fourscore years, The beauty of the heart.

After a brief description of Rogers, she continues.

There they sat. Simply serene, as though not laurel-crowned, A trio, such as I may ne'er expect To look upon again. ^

Mrs. Sigourney, however, was not the only American to find the way to the quiet house in Hampstead ; one of Joanna Baillie's most interesting friendships was with William EUery Channing. In her first recorded letter to him, dated June 28, 1824, Miss Baillie comments on Bjnron's death in so personal and intimate a tone as to indicate a long correspondence. A free literary give- and-take is already established. Probably he met Joanna Baillie on his visit to London in 1821, as he met many literary people, and she was then at the height of her fame. In 1829 he thanks her for her congrat- ulations on his writings ; in 1834 he confesses that he did not intend to be an author, and in 1832, 1834, ^^35 he discusses religion with her. In 1835—6, Channing

^ Sigourney, Pleasant Memories of Pleasant Lands, p. 337.

44 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

visited England with his mother, who wrote detailed accounts of their visit with Joanna Baillie, indicating that she in no way disappointed their expectations. ^ There were evidently several meetings, and after his return to America the correspondence was continued until May 4, 1838, after which no letters are preserved. The correspondence is a remarkable one for the range of subjects which it covers, and the honest friendship expressed. One of his latest letters (November g, 1837) closes : * May you, my dear Madam, continue to strength- en our hope of immortality by showing us how the spirit can retain its beauty and life, even to the moment when it is withdrawn from human intercourse. With great respect and sincere affection. '^

In a letter to Mrs. Jameson, dated November, 1842, Joanna Baillie laments ' the loss we have all sustained in the death of that highly gifted and excellent man [Channing]. He has done the present generation much good, and, had he been spared to the world, might have done much more. The brightness of his character has a sweetness belonging to it akin to the beings of a better world, to which he was constantly pointing the way.'^ In the Boston Public Library are preserved now his presentation-copies of her dramas.

James Fenimore Cooper once spent a * poetical morn- ing ' near London, for, after a call on Coleridge, he went to Hampstead, where he found Joanna Bailhe at home. His record of his impression of her is analytic and detailed :

f

I never knew a person of real genius who had any of the affectations of the smaller fry, on the subject of their feelings and

^ Frothingham, William Ellery Channing, pp. 121 ff.

■^ Channing, Memoir of William Ellery Channing 3. 349.

^ Macpherson, Memoirs of the Life of Anna Jameson, p. 187.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 45

sentiments. ... It has often been my luckless fortune to meet with ladies who have achieved a common-place novel, or ode, or who have written a Julia, or a Matilda, for a magazine, and who have ever after deemed it befitting their solemn vocation to assume loft}" and didactic manners ; but Miss Baillie had none of this. She is a little, quiet, feminine woman, who you would think might shrink from grappling with the horrors of a tragedy, and whom it would be possible to mistake for the maiden sister of the curate, bent only on her homely duties. Notwithstanding this simplicity, however, there was a deeply-seated earnestness about her, that bespoke the good faith and honesty of the higher impulses within.^

There remain to be mentioned the host of women acquaintances with whom she was very popular. Her intimate friends — Mrs. Barbauld, Lucy Aikin, and Mary Berry — have already been mentioned. It was through the last-named that Miss BailHe met the lioness of the day. Madam de Stael. Miss Berry had known Madam de Stael in Lausanne in 1784, and renewed the acquain- tance in Paris in 1802.2 On June 29, 1813, at her London house on North Audley Street, Miss Berry gave a dinner in honor of the famous French visitor, to which she invited ten ladies and twenty-six gentlemen.^ Joanna Baillie was among this number. Miss Berry wrote to a friend, ' In the evening we had a few people at home ; and Madam de Stael who came, talked, questioned, and went away again like a flash of lightning, or rather like a torrent.'- The versatile, high-strung French woman with her wide experience cf life, and the taciturn, ultra- refined Scotch woman, had few points of contact, and there are no evidences of admiration on the part of either.

^ Cooper, England with Sketches of Life in the Metropolis, p. 230.

^ Berry Papers, pp. 206 ff .

^ Hamilton, p. 128.

^ Correspondence of Miss Berry 2. 536.

46 The Life and Work oj Joanna Baillie

Miss Baillie 's intimacy with Mary Berry continued unabated for years. They shared not only their social, but also their Hterary hfe. In 181 1 Mary Berry visited Joanna in Hampstead. * Dined before four,' she records, ' and went out upon the Heath. Sat for two hours in a delicious, fine evening ; afterwards read over together "The Two Martins," and criticised them, and likewise some of my other scraps, which I think Joanna liked less than I expected/ The following day they sat by the fire the whole day, while Miss Berry read the new drama on Hope, which disappointed hcr.^

The acquaintance between Joanna Baillie and Maria Edge worth w^as of long standing. The earliest mention which I have found refers to a letter from Miss Edgeworth which was written before 1793, and which was of such value as to be forwarded to Mrs. Hunter. 2 After 1813, when Miss Edgeworth came to London, the friendship naturally was closer. Joanna Baillie wrote to Scott at this time : ' We met a good many times, and when we parted she was in tears, like one who takes leave of an old friend.'^ In 1818 Miss Edgeworth records a visit to Joanna Baillie at Hampstead. The conversation in the little home impressed her especially, for she says : * Both Joanna and her sister have most agreeable and new conversation, not old, trumpery literature over again and reviews, but new circumstances worth telling, apropos to every subject that is touched upon ; frank observations on character, without either ill-nature or the fear of committing themselves ; no blue-stocking tittle-tattle, or habits of worshiping or being worshiped.' The sisters, pleased her deeply : ' domestic,' she says, ' affectionate good to hve with, and, without fussing continually, doing

^ Correspondence of Miss Berry 2. 477.

^ Paget, p. 192.

•"* Lawless, Maria Edgeworth, p. 124.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 47

what is most obliging, and whatever makes us feel most at home. Breakfast is very pleasant in this house, and the two good sisters look so neat and cheerful.'^ On New Year's Day, 1822, Miss Edgeworth and many others dined at Dr. Lushington's house, Frognal, Hampstead. After dinner the whole company, including Joanna and Agnes, danced, and then dressed in different characters. ^ Unfortunately, Miss Edgeworth does not describe Jo- anna's costume. Early in the same month she visited Joanna, and on the last day of her visit she wrote : * I part with Agnes and Joanna Bailhe, confirmed in my opinion that the one is the most amiable Hterary woman I ever beheld, and the other one of the best informed and most useful.'^

During Mary Somerville's long stay in Europe, she met Dr. and Mrs. Matthew Bailhe, Agnes, and Joanna, whom she described as ' my dear and valued friend to the end of her life. '4

These pages depict the delightful intercourse between many of the brightest men and women of the day. The ' sole shadow on the picture occurs in the relations between Joanna Bailhe, the poet, and Francis Jeffrey, the caustic critic of the Edinburgh Review. In 1829 he declared that women cannot represent naturally * the fierce and sullen passions of men — nor their coarse vices — ^nor even the scenes of actual business and contention — ^nor the mixed motives and strong and faulty characters, by which affairs of moment are usually conducted, on the great theatre of the world. ' He attributed this failure to their superior dehcacy and their lack of experience.^ With this

^ Hare, Life and Letters of Maria Edgeworth, p. 268. ^ Ihid., p. 391. ^ Ibid., p. 396.

* Somerville, Personal Recollections of Mary Somerville, p. 114.

* Jeffrey, Essays 2. 55'

48 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

preconception, and the narrowness of judgment and lack of sympathy which limited his understanding of true passion and fancy, ^ he was poorly quahfied to judge Miss BailHe's dramas. In 1820 Miss Mitford dirted with Scott and Jeffrey, and afterwards stated mos^t graphically their respective characteristics. ' Scott,' she writes, ' throws a light on life by the beaming qualities of his soul, and so dazzles you that you have no time or per- ception for anything but its beauties ; while Jeffrey seems to dehght in holding up his hand before the light, in order that he may spy out its deformities. '^ ' He has no divine flame,' says another writer, ' no feehng for the unsaid ; he is finite, and Latin, and academic, and distrusts his sensations, while supremely confident of his opinions. His courage is always refreshing. '^ His voice was the first to be raised in condemnation of Joanna Baillie 's Plays on the Passions,^ and his verdict was unduly prominent, on account of his disagreement with the current opinion. In July, 1803, a lengthy review of the Plays on the Passions appeared as the leading article in the Edinburgh Review. In it Jeffrey attacked the plays on the grounds of theory and of ' intrinsic

^ Familiar Letters i. 127. In 1808 Scott expressed his opinion of Jeffrey in a letter to Miss Baillie : ' He is learned with the most learned in its [poetry's] canons and laws, skilled in its modulation, and an excellent judge of the justice of the sentiments which it con- veys, but he wants that enthusiastic feeling which like sunshine upon a landscape lights up every beauty, and palliates, if it cannot hide, every defect. To offer a poem of imagination to a man whose whole life and study has been to acquire a stoical indifference to- wards enthusiasm of every kind would be the last, as it would surely be the silliest, action of my life.'

^ L'Estrange, The Life of Mary Russell Mitford i. 352.

2 Elton, Survey of English Literature i. 392.

* For a critical estimate of Jeffrey, cf. Leslie Stephen, Hours in a Library, Third Series, pp. 155-64.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 49

excellence.' To delineate a passion * under all its aspects of progress and maturity * seemed to him a plan * almost as impoetical as that of the bard who began the tale of the Trojan war from the o^gg of Leda. . . . To delineate a man's character, by tracing the progress of his ruling passion, is like describing his person by the yearly ad- measurement of his foot, or rather by a termly report of the increase of a wen, by which his health and his beauty are ultimately destroyed' 1^ After condemning the method by which Miss Baillie hoped to advance Enghsh drama, he went on to attack her purpose : ' Plays have, for the most part, no moral effect at all : they are seen or read for amusement and curiosity only ; and the study of them forms so small a part of the occupation of any individual, that it is really altogether fantastical to ascribe to them any sensible effect in the formation of his character. '2 Before the end of this article he speaks of her ' pleasing and powerful genius,' and then goes on to say : * It is paying no great comphment, perhaps, to her talents, to say, that they are superior to those of any of her contemporaries among the English writers of tragedy; and that, with proper management, they bid fair to produce something that posterity will not allow to be forgotten.'^ Her bitterness towards him seems to have made her doubt the sincerity of his later praise. When she visited Edinburgh in 1808, a meeting be- tween the two was almost inevitable. Two of her friends, Mrs. Betty Hamilton and the Duchess of Gordon, tried to arrange a conversation. In the closing words of his first review of her work, Jeffrey said that if she should abandon her plan of writing on the passions only, and ' consent to write tragedies without any deeper

1 Edinburgh Review 2. 272.

* Ibid. 2. 275: Chambers' Edinburgh Journal, N. S. 2. 259.

^ Ibid. 1. 277.

d

J

50 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

design than that of interesting her readers, we shall soon have the satisfaction of addressing her with more unquali- fied praise, than we have yet bestowed upon any poetical advent iu*er.'^ As a result of this assurance, their friends were confident that Jeffrey would show enough ad- miration for her work to soften her resentment, and they hoped that eventually he might be able to make some suggestions for her improvement. The introduction, however, was civilly and coldly declined by Miss Baillie, on the ground that Jeffrey was then more at liberty to criticize her future writings than he would be if they were at all acquainted. Her hostesses, however, felt confident that bitterness was at the bottom of her re- fusal. ^ Her nephew says that she considered the article written * with a desire to exalt the fame of the critic and the popularity of the periodical, without due regard to justice and propriety of feeling.'^ In i8ii Jeffrey as- sociated her with the greatest poets of the age — Southey, Wordsworth, and Coleridge.^

With the publication of her new volume in 1812 came a renewed attack, of which Scott warned her in advance. ' Everybody who cares a farthing for poetry is dehghted with your volume,' he writes, ' and well they may be. You will neither be shocked nor surprised at hearing that Mr. Jeffrey has announced himself of a contrary opinion. . . . There is something in his mode of reasoning that leads me greatly to doubt whether, notwithstanding the vivacity of his imagination, he really has any feeling of poetical genius.'^ Later in the same year Scott reported that Jeffrey talked very favorably of the new volume.

1 Edinburgh Review 2. 286.

^ International Magazine 3. 312.

» Works, p. XIV.

^ Edinburgh Review 18. 283; Essays of Jeffrey, p. 13-

^ Lockhart 2. 261, 264.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 51

In 1 81 2 Jeffrey reviewed the new plays in the Edin- burgh Review, and said : * It is now, we think, something more than nine years since we first ventured to express our opinion of Miss BailHe's earher productions ; and to raise our warning voice against those narrow and peculiar views of dramatic excellence, by which, it appeared to us that she had imprudently increased the difficulties of a very difficult undertaking. Notwithstanding this admonition, Miss BailHe has gone on (as we expected) in her own way ; and has become (as we expected) both less popular, and less deserving of popularity, in every successive publication.' All of Jeffrey's criticisms had been able and discriminating, and in some respects com- plimentary. This latter quahty may be shown by reference to the very article which contained the severe strictures quoted above. Jeffrey ends : ' We will not, however, pursue the ungrateful theme of her faults any farther ; but, before closing this hasty and unintended sketch of her poetical character, shall add a word or two, as both duty and inclination prompt us to do, on the more pleasing subject of her merits.'

In the autumn of 1820 Miss BailHe was again in Edin- burgh, and this time she was willing to meet Jeffrey. He was presented to her by Dr. Morehead,^ and they held an earnest conversation, with the almost invariable result on those who had a prejudice against him, of respect and esteem. Jeffrey resigned the editorship of the Edinburgh Review in 1829, and wrote only six articles for that magazine after his retirement. The articles on Miss Bailhe's work in the Review for 1836 and 1851 cannot, consequently, be certainly attributed to him. After 1820 he seldom visited London without going to Hampstead to visit her, ' without indulging himself in

1 Cockburn, Life of Lord Jeffrey i. 260-1.

d2

^

52 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

a friendly pilgrimage to the shrine of the secluded poetess/ as one writer romantically says.^ On April i, 1838, he wrote to a friend, ' We went out to Joanna Baillie's yesterday, and found her delightfully cheerful, kind and simple without the least trait of the tragic muse about her/ Again in 1840 he writes that he has been twice ' to hunt out Joanna Bailhe and found her, the other day, as fresh, natural, and amiable, as ever, and as little Hke a tragic muse. Since Mrs. Brougham's death,' he con- tinues, ' I do not know so nice an old lady.' The same impressions he carried away from calls in January and February of 1842, when he offers the additional comment that she is * not a bit blind, deaf, or torpid,' and * is the prettiest, best dressed, kindest, happiest, and most entire beauty of fourscore that has been since the flood. '^

Scott was deeply interested in their relations, and hoped that Jeffrey would publicly reverse his criticism of her work, ' but,' he says, * after pledging himself so deeply as he has done, I doubt much his giving way even unto conviction.'^ His prognostication was correct, as the reconciliation remained merely personal. Her public enemy had become her personal friend. In this pleasant way ended her only literary feud.

Last Dramatic Work.

These literary friendships, however, did not detract from her interest in creative work. It will be remembered that in 1812 Joanna Bailhe wrote to Walter Scott that she was sending him her last volume, and was getting her knitting needles in order. She did not give up all literary interests, however, as her editing of the volume

^ International Magazine 3. 312. 2 Cockburn i. 260-1. ^ Lockhart 2. 264.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 53

of manuscripts in 1823 shows. Only two short plays/ The Martyr and The Bride, were added to her list until 1836, when a new series appeared which contained twelve plays. Most of the dramas contained in these volumes had been written many years, none of them very recently. Her intention had been to lay them aside during her lifetime, and, through her executor, to offer them after her death to some of the smaller London theatres. As theatrical conditions in England were not encouraging for the production of such dramas, she was induced to relinquish all hope of their production on the London stage. ' To keep them longer unpubhshed,' she says, ' would serve no good purpose, and might afterwards give trouble to friends whom I would willingly spare.' A curious side-light is thrown on this pubhcation by WiUiam B. Sprague, who visited her in 1836, and recorded his interview in some detail. * She had, a short time before,' he writes, * published two plays, which were just then being acted at the different theatres. She had intended that they should be posthumous, and be edited by her nephew ; but, as he was threatened seriously with a decline, and it had become very doubtful whether he would survive her, she determined to send them forth during her lifetime. '^

The first volume completed all that she intended to write on the stronger passions of the mind. Jealousy is portrayed in Romiero and The Alienated Manor, and Remorse in Henriquez. Miss Baillie explains that ' envy and revenge are so frequently exposed in our Dramas . . . that I have thought myself at liberty to exclude them

1 In the Preface to the Dramas of 1836 she says: ' Only one edition of the former [The Martyr], and two small editions of the latter [The Bride] have been circulated! '

- Sprague, European Celebrities, p, 162.

54 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

from my plan as originally contemplated.'^ The final drama in the volume is The Martyr, a tragedy on Religion. This had been published in 1826, and was intended for reading only. * The subject of this piece is too sacred,' she says, * and therefore unfit, for the stage. . . . Had I considered it as fit for theatrical exhibition, the reasons that withhold me from publishing my other manuscript plays, would have held good regarding this.'^ The other two volumes contained miscellaneous plays, all of which were new to the public except The Bride, which had already run through two small editions.^

The new volume created quite a furore, and received much more prompt consideration than did her first volumes. The critic in the London AthencBum wrote on January 2, 1836 : ' The coming of a new comet which no one had foreseen, or an eclipse of the sun which no one had predicted, would not puzzle astronomers more than the appearance of these Dramas by Joanna Baillie has amazed critics. Of the remaining books of Words- worth's " Excursion " we have heard, and of a domestic epic by Southey, and other works of inspiration, frost- bound in manuscript by these cold and ungenial times ; but of twelve new dramas by the authoress of " Plays on the Passions" we have not heard a whisper, and their coming has pleased and surprised us. We had long since ceased to look to " Sister Joanna," as Scott loved to call her,3 for either dramas or lyrics, in both of which she has excelled.'

Even more enthusiastic was the writer in Fraser's Magazine who declared : ' Had we heard that a MS. play

* Works, p. 312. - Ibid. p. 512.

^ Lockhart gives no instance, so far as I have found, of this name for her.

The Life of Joanna Baillic 55

of Shakespeare's, or an early, but missing, novel of Scott's, had been discovered, and was already in the press, the information could not have been more welcome. ... It awakened that long dormant eagerness of curiosity with which we used to look forward to the publications of her volumes, in those remote days when Wordsworth was yet unknown, and the first faint beams of the genius of Walter Scott had only shewn themselves in a few and scattered miscellaneous poems, and Southey's name was as yet unglorified by the production of Madoc, or Kehama, or Roderic, — and Milman was a sap at Eton, and Byron a rebel at Harrow.'

The volumes were an immediate success. Even the EdinUtrgh Review condescended to say that * Their contents will not, on the whole, disappoint expectation.' Its attitude toward Joanna Baillie had changed ; with what deep interest and sympathy they now regarded the publication of these volumes, as the last legacy to the public of 'their highly gifted authoress!.' All the critics feel that they are taken back to their youth. The writer in Eraser's Magazine so vividly recalled his former, and so naively described his present impressions, that his entire statement is inserted :

The advertisement m the Times, which told us that these three new volumes of dramas were in the press, was magical in its influence, and recalled with a vividness and distinctness which was quite unparalleled the recollection of some of the happiest moments and keenest feelings of our early youth. Again we were brought back to the time when we used, in the midday heat of some summer holiday, to mount half way up to the forked branches of a tall and favourite elm, and there sit for hours together in our aerial arbour, forgetting all the sober realities of our then existence, masters, lessons, and exercises, and wholly absorbed by the love of Basil, the ambition of Ethwald, or the fearful passion of De Montfort. Again we were reminded of those crude, but sincere, and often felicitous criticisms, of our school- boy days, when, of a long winter evening, we discussed about

56! The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

the playroom fire the position which ought to be assigned to Joanna Baillie in the ranks of dramatic literature; while we seemed again to hear the observations, and to have before us the looks, manner, and even voices, of those who sided with us, or against us, in the high appreciation of her genius, at an age when we estimated the excellence of a tragedy by the emotions it excited, by the tears it drew from us, and by the thrill of terror which chilled us as we read. Again we seemed to feel the exul- tation with which, on the first publication of Marmion, we burst into the study of a dull, plodding, cold-blooded, unimaginative elf, who presumed to question the transcendant merits of our authoress, and, at once putting all his petty cavils to silence, and justifying our own enthusiasm by an appeal to the irre- sistible authority of Scott, recited, with wondrous emphasis, but not, perhaps, with a like discretion, that beautiful testimony to her genius, which Erskine is supposed to utter when admonishing the minstrel :

To emulate the notes that rung ....

But delighted as we were at the announcement of the volumes before us — eagerly impatient as we were for their publication — cross as we made our bookseller by our importunate inquiries after them, and our unjust reproaches at their not being sent us before they were ready— and cross as we were ourselves with one and all the members of that many-headed firm in Pater- noster Row, who for nearly three weeks had held the word of promise to our ear and broken it to our hopes; when the delay was at last over, and the work lay, in its glossy green calico dress, fairly before us, we could hardly summon the resolution to open it. We lingered in cutting the leaves— our hearts misgave us; and it was only after much idling and procrastination that we turned with fear and trembling to examine its contents. We dreaded lest our expectations should be disappointed— lest these later plays should prove unworthy the high celebrity of their author— and lest, on rising from the perusal of them, we should find that the early-implanted and long-cherished admiration, which had been inspired by the wonderful creations of the summer of her days and the vigour of her genius, had in any degree suffer- ed check or diminution from the perusal of the feebler efforts of her age. Our alarm was quite superfluous. We might have spared ourselves the pain of these petty, jealous, and mistrustful feelings. The new work has surpassed all that we had expected, or could

The Life of Joanna Baillie 57

have ventured to hope for ; and we have not the slightest hesi- tation in asserting— and we are prepared to maintain our opinion against all gainsayers whosoever— that to meet with anything in dramatic literature equal to ' Henriquez,' ' The Separation,' ' The Phantom/ parts of * The Homicide,' and some scenes of the ' Bride,' we must pass over all that has been written, ex- cept by Joanna Baillie herself, during the space of the last two hundred years, and revert to the golden days of Elizabeth and James I. So said Scott, in verse, some thirty years ago ; and we, from the very bottom of our hearts, and in plain prose, coin- cide in his judgment, — not only with regard to those earlier dramas to which he alluded, but to these, their younger brethren, which are now before us.^

With this pubHcation ended Joanna BailHe's dramatic j

career.

Old Age.

Miss BailHe made a lasting impression upon those who knew her, on account of her noble qualities of character — a beautiful compound of intelligence, loveliness, and venerable simplicity. The reahzation that she possessed a deep serenity, based upon integrity of life and absence of conceit, is expressed by Lucy Aikin,^ George Ticknor,^ Mrs. Channing,^ William EUery Channing,^ and many others. It is small wonder that Wordsworth chose her as his ideal English gentlewoman.

Religion had always been an important factor in Miss Baillie's life, and with old age theological questions became of paramount importance. A deeply religious note can be heard through all her dramas, from Basil

^ Fraser's Magazine 13. 236.

^ Le Breton, p. 213.

^ Ticknor i. 413; 2. 153.

* Frothingham, p. 121.

* Ibid., p. 349-

58 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

to The Martyr. 'The great God of mercy,' who is * most good and merciful, ^ is the

Power above that calms the storm. Restrains the mighty, gives the dead to life.^

Her behef in Christ's mission on earth was definite and convincing. One of the most inspiring characters in the dramas, Ethelbert, expresses her idea of the work of Christ as it is told in the Scriptures:

But what thinkst thou, my Selred, read I there ?

Of one sent down from heav'n in sov'reign pomp,

To give into the hands of leagued priests

All power to hold th' immortal soul of man

In everlasting thraldom ? O far otherwise !

Of one who health restored unto the sick,

Who made the lame to walk, the blind to see.

Who fed the hungry, and who rais'd the dead.

Yet had no place wherein to lay His head.

Of one from ev'ry spot oi tainting sin

Holy and pure ; and yet so lenient.

That He with soft and unupbraiding love

Did woo the wand'ring sinner from his ways,

As doth the elder brother of a house

The erring stripling guide. Of one, my friend,

Wiser by far than all the sons of men.

Yet teaching ignorance in simple speech.

As thou wouldst take an infant on thy lap

And lesson him with his own artless tale.

Of one so mighty

That He did say unto the raging sea

' Be thou at peace,' and it obeyed His voice ;

Yet bow'd Himself unto the painful death

That we might live.^

From the first years of her writing she believed in the divine mission and the human nature of Christ. In 1798 she writes : * Our Saviour himself, whose character

' Works, p. 45.

2 Ibid., p. 305.

3 Ibid., p. 136.

l^he Life of Joanna Baillie 59

is so beautiful, and so harmoniously consistent ... never touches the heart more nearly than when He says, *' Father, let this cup pass from me.'' '^

To this * Lord of all existing things ' prayer rises con- stantly from her tragic characters. Orra, when madness is closing upon her brain, tries in vain to raise her thoughts * in strong and steady fervour ' ; Ethelbert, just before his death, goes apart to pray, and, when he returns,

on his noble front A smiling calmness rests, like one whose mind Hath high communion held with blessed souls.

Basil fears his act of suicide has cut him off from pardon, and says.

When I am gone, my friend, O! let a good man's prayers to heav'n ascend For an offending spirit ! Pray for me. What thinkest thou ? although an outcast here, May not some heavenly mercy still be found ?

and De Monfort, seeing his sister kneeling in prayer for him, exclaims :

Ha ! dost thou pray for me ? heav'n hear they prayer ! I fain would kneel. — Alas! I dare not do it.

With this strong behef in the power of prayer goes the conviction of personal immortality : * Death is but a short though awful pass ; as it were a winking of the eyes for a moment. We shut them in this world and open them in the next : and there we open them with such increased vividness of existence, that this life, in com- parison, will appear but as a state of slumber and of dreams. '2 The soul of her friend she beheves has gone

To fellowship witli blessed souls above."

' Works, p. 9, note. - Ihid., p. 272. •' Ibid., p. 794.

6o The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

Columbus lost all the rewards of honor and fame in this world, but were not his achievements worth while.

When records of the mighty dead

To earth-worn pilgrim's wistful eye The brightest rays of cheering shed,

That point to immortality ?

A twinkling speck, but fix'd and bright,

To guide us through the dreary night.

Each hero shines, and lures the soul

To gain the distant happy goal. For is there one who, musing o'er the grave Where lies interr'd the good, the wise, the brave. Can poorly think, beneath the mould 'ring heap. That noble being shall for ever sleep ? No; saith the gen'rous heart, and proudly swells,— ' Though his cered corse lie here, with God his spirit dwells.*^

Religious honesty was as essential to Joanna Baillie as was intellectual honesty, and so she felt obligated to express the change in belief that came to her late in life. She explained all her new ideas to her friend Mrs. Siddons, who replied characteristically, * I still hold fast my own faith without wavering. '^ in 1831 Joanna Baillie expressed her final belief in the human nature of Christ, in a pamphlet entitled A View of the General Tenor of the New Testament regarding the Nature and Dignity of Jesus Christ. She analyzed clearly the doctrines of the Trinitarians, the Arians, and the Socin- ians, and quoted all the passages that bear upon the controversy. Her own decision was indefinite ; she felt sure * that without previous instruction in the doctrine of the Trinity, a person of plain sense might read the whole of the New Testament without being aware of such a doctrine being contained in it.' Apparently she favors

^ Works, p. 744.

^ Parsons, The Incomparable Siddons, p. 214.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 6i

the Socinian belief in the nature of Christ, as ' a great Mission-Prophet of God, sent into the world to reveal his will to men ; to set them an example of perfect virtue ; and to testify the truth of his mission by the sacrifice of his life.'

In May, 1831, she wrote to a friend that she had sent no copies of her pamphlet to any clergymen except one, a Presbyterian minister. ^ She did send it, however, to several lay friends. Sir Walter Scott received a copy in the spring of 1831. He was so indignant that his friend should have been drawn into a controversy in which she could hardly do herself justice, that he refused to add the volume to his library, and gave it to Laidlaw, who seems to have had more sympathy with her views. ^ How unfortunate it is that the last mention in his diary of his old friend, Joanna Baillie, dated May 17, 1831, should record merely his disappointment in her because of this religious tract. ^

Channing was one of the few persons to whom she presented copies. On August 29, 1831, he wrote her: ' If it will afford you any satisfaction, I ought to say that my views on the doctrine which you have examined were much the same as ^/ours. At the same time I would add, that for years I have felt a decreasing interest in sctthng the precise rank of Jesus Christ.''* A year later he adds : ' In proportion as the great moral, spiritual purpose of Christianity shines in my mind, the un- intelligible mysteries of the schools fade away, and I can hardly muster up interest enough in them to read either

^ Ferrier, Memoir and Correspondence, p. 228. ^ Journal of Sir Walter Scott, p. 542.

3 Lockhart 5. 335, note; Chambers, Life of Sir Walter Scott, p. 179.

* Memoirs 2. 414.

62 The Li/e and Work of Joanna Baillie

for or against them .... Your book is almost the only one I have read on the subject for years. '^

The publication of this pamphlet led to a correspond- ence between Joanna Baillie and the Bishop of Salis- bury, who attempted to change her opinions. In 1838 she arranged for a second edition, because of the rumor that she had been converted by the Bishop's arguments.^ The new edition contained all the correspondence between them.

In a letter to a friend dated Hampstead, March 16, 1838, Miss Baillie explains so frankly the pecuniary failure of this venture into theology as to estabhsh once and for all her attitude toward her publishers. * My Bookseller, Mr. Smallfield, has published the book at his own risk,' she writes, ' and is to have the profits if there be any. I hope he will not lose by it, for I find myself in no favour with the public whatever my under- taking may be. Before we made the arrangement, I sent him my accoimt with Longman, that he might be fully aware how unsuccessful the first edition had been, and do ever5^hing with his eyes open.'^

The last years slipped by in comparative quiet. Dur- ing the fall of 1831 and the spring of 1832 she suffered from ' a very heavy disease,'^ that left her so weak that correspondence was impossible. This illness forms the exception which proves her usual good health. In 1843 she wrote to Mrs. Somerville that, ' all things considered,' she could give ' a very good accoimt .... Ladies of four score and upwards cannot expect to be robust, and need not be gay. We sit by the fireside with our books, . . . and receive the visits of our friendly neighbors very

' Memoirs 2, 391.

^ Autograph letter in Harvard College Library.

2 Somerville, p. 208.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 63

contentedly, and I trust I may say, very thankfully.'^ By the time Harriet Martineau came to London, Miss Baillie was, as a rule, declining dinner invitations,^ but she was still entertaining in her own home. Mrs. Farrar was specially enthusiastic over her reception in Hamp- stead, and praised Miss Baillie's pretty and pleasant dinners, over which she presided * with peculiar grace and tact, always attentive to the wants of her guests, and yet keeping up a lively conversation the while. '^

By this time she was usually called Mrs. Joanna Baillie, as her age and her literary reputation were held to entitle her ' to brevet rank.'* This title appears in 1849 ^^ ^^e title-page of her last work. Scott teased her about her new title : ' So you have retired from your former prefix of Miss Joanna Baillie, and have adopted the more grave appellation of Mrs. Well, you may call yourself what you please on the backs of letters and visiting cards, but I will warrant you never get posterity to tack either Miss or Mrs. to the Quaker -like Joanna Baillie ; we would as soon have Wm. Shakespeare, Esq.'^

In 1836 Joanna Baillie was in London for two note- worthy plays — Mrs. Bartley's performance of Macbeth/' at Drury Lane, and the premiere of Talfourd's Ion at Coven t Garden."^ She was again in London in 1843, and evidently enjoyed greatly the gossip concerning Charles Dickens and other literary people. ' In our retired way of living,' she wrote Mrs. Somerville on her return, ' we know very little of what goes on in the

1 Somerville, p. 263.

^ Martineau i. 270; Le Breton, pp. 153, 289.

■^ Farrar, Recollections of Seventy Years, p. 74.

^ Byron, ed. Prothero 6, 55.

^ Familiar Letters i. 330.

* Tytler and Watson 2. 290.

' Knight 3. 265.

J

r

64 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

literary world. '^ That she was not entirely forgotten, however, is proved by the fact that in 1838 Mr. Merivale dedicated to her two volumes of original prose and trans- lations, ' in humble testimony of her rare and exalted genius .... with every sentiment of respect and affect- ion. *2 In the same year Mrs. Jameson took her niece, Geraldine Macpherson, to see Miss Baillie. The child had read De Monfort and Basil, and evidently expected to see an awe-inspiring person. ' I am not sure,' Miss Macpherson confessed later, * that the relief with which I found myself nestling to the side of a gently-smiling, white-haired old lady, whose dignity could condescend to amuse her child-visitor with tales of the second sight and thrilling ghost stories which she had heard from Sir Walter Scott, . . . was not slightly tinctured with dis- appointment.' She was still too young to appreciate * the simplicity, in itself heroic, of the poet and her surroundings. '3

Age had not lessened Miss Bailhe's interest in philan- thropy, and in this same year the sisters spent much time ' in note- writing ' in an attempt to get a poor boy elected into the London Orphan Asylum. ' Truly we are quite tired of it,'* she adds to our satisfaction, for it is a relief to find this human note in so perfect a character. At the age of seventy-six she took a long walk to visit the poor, and, though the day was chill and windy, she returned ' unfatigued, and even invigorated by the exercise.'^ She impressed all who met her with her serenity and good humor. * Amidst all the pedantry, vanity, coquetry, and manners ruined by celebrity which

1 Somerville, p. 264.

^ Koch, p. 21.

^ Macpherson, p. 185.

* Ibid., p. 198. Autograph letter in my possession.

5 Sigourney, p. 338.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 65

I have seen,' says Harriet Martineau, * for these twenty years past, I have solaced, and strengthened myself with the image of Joanna Baillie, with the remembering of the invulnerable justification which she set up for in- tellectual superiority in women. '^

Although admiration for her work was expressed chiefly in calls for new editions and in favorable magazine- reviews, two enduring tributes were paid to her genius. She was made an honorary member of the Whittington Club, in company with Mary Russell Mitford, Maria Edgeworth, Mrs. Somerville, and Leigh Hunt. This election she considered a very great compliment. ^ Another recognition of her position in literature was her election to honorary membership in the Historical Society of Michigan. Her name was proposed on March 23, 1838, and she was elected to membership at the next meeting June 13, 1840.^ At these two meetings many honorary members were elected. Among them were a large number of Americans, and the following English women : Maria Edgeworth, Mrs. Jameson, Harriet Martineau, Mary Russell Mitford, Mrs. P. B. Shelley, Madam D'Arblay, and Lucy Aikin. There is no state- ment as to the reason for their selection.

^ Martineau i. 270.

'^ The Whittington Club was instituted at the Crown and Anchor, Arundel Street, Strand, in 1846, under the auspices of Douglas Jerrold, who was its first president. The founders intended ' to use two club-houses — whose members may obtain meals and re- freshments at the lowest remunerating prices — we next propose to have a library and a reading room. We intend to place the spirits of the wise upon our shelves— It is also proposed to give lectures in the various branches of literature, science and art— Languages, mathematics, music, painting will be taught' — . In 1847 there were already 1000 members and it was growing fast ' {Modern Eloquence 8. 739-42). The club came to an end in 1873, but was later revived. Correspondence of Mary Russell Mitford, p. 81.

* Michigan Pioneer and Historical Collection 12. 321-2.

66 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

The closing years of Joanna Baillie's life were pathetic.

r^ In 1844 she carried on a most intimate correspondence with Mary Berry, which proves conclusively that Harriet Martineau was mistaken in her belief that Joanna Baillie was indifferent to the fate of her plays. , * If I were much given to envy,' she wrote on October 16, * I should envy you for two things : first that a clever, knowing-in- the-trade bookseller calls for permission to reprint your works. ... On what spot of the earth Hves that book- seller who would now publish at his own risk any part of my works ? ' Miss Berry replied with the consoling flattery that Joanna Baillie's works were 'written for posterity and to take their place in the small band of real poets who have adorned our country. There you will flourish ever green,' she continues, ' and will rise in importance as you recede from the present generation.' In her anxiety to console her friend, she grew oratorical, and declared that ' Shakespeare will acknowledge that you dared to walk on the same plane with him, without copying him, or falling from the height of which he had shown you the example ; there Byron will own that the great expression of passion in Basil exceeds any of his.'^ Channing also consoled her by asking, * How few like you wear fresh laurels in old age ? '^

Only a few months before her death, however, a London bookseller did demand the republication of her works, and she lived to see the complete edition of 185 1 —

V ' my great monster book,' she called it.^ It was pubKshed by Longman, Brown, Green, and Longmans in London, ' with many corrections, and a few additions by herself.''* This edition included little new material; a few lyiics

^ Correspondence of Mary Berry 3. 489-90

^ Frothingham 2. 353.

^ Somerville, p. 265,

^ Rogers, Table Talk, p. 233.

The Life of Joanna Baillie 67

were resurrected from her still-bom volume of 1790, and her last work Ahalya Baee was added, which had been printed in London in 1849 ^^^ private circulation. This new edition removed the first cause ^of her envy of Miss Berry.

The second cause, however, was beyond human aid. None of her friends seems to have noticed as early as 1844 that her mind was failing, but she herself was conscious of the change. ' What book,' she asks, ' could you give me to read of which I should have any distinct recollection three months hence ?'^ On this score Miss Berry could give her no reassurance. In September, 1850, Lucy Aikin wrote that her friend's * memory cer- tainly fails a great deal, but the heart is warm as ever, and there are still flashes of a bright mind.'^ About the same time Harriet Martineau saw her for the last time. ' She was fhen over-affectionate,' she says, ' and uttered a good deal of flattery, and I was uneasy at symptoms so unlike her good taste and sincerity. It was a token of approaching departure. She knew that she was declining, and she sank and softened for some months more.'^ Before her death, her mind was controlled largely by her imagination. When Miss Merivale visited her, she described to her visitors how she had seen Napoleon ride up the hill to her.^

Early in 1851 Rogers and Miss Coutts called upon ' Mrs. Joanna BailUe,' and Miss Coutts recorded the closing words of their conversation. * Her last words as I left her, were that she looked forward to the time when she should be released with more pleasure then to anything else, and I thought to myself that I hoped that I

^ Correspondence of Mary Berry 3. 489. ''■ Le Breton, p. 159. ^ Martineau i. 271. ' Koch, p. 34.

62

68 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

might look as peaceful and as happy as she did at that moment. '1 On January 9, Miss BaiUie wrote to Mrs. Somerville, ' My sister and myself at so great an age are waiting to be called away in mercy by an Almighty Father, and we part with our earthly friends as those whom we shall meet again.' 2 The waiting was not long. On Saturday, February 22, 1851, Joanna Baillie retired, apparently in her usual health ; in the morning she was found to be in a state of coma,^ and died on the afternoon of Sunday, February 23. She was buried in an altar- tomb, surrounded by an iron railing, in the parish church- yard at Hampstead. As is most fitting, her sister Agnes lies in the same grave,* and her friend Lucy Aikin lies next to her.^ The place of her burial is almost for- gotten, but within the church a tablet has been erected to her memory, and in the vestry, next to the portrait of Bishop Selwyn, hangs a watercolor by Mary Ann Knight of Joanna Baillie as she looked in the days of her greatest fame.'^'

^ Clayden 2. 417. ^ Somerville, p. 265. ^ Fawcett, p. 210.

^ Hutton, Literary Landmarks of London, p. 15. ^ Tytler and Watson 2. 301.

•^ Koch, p. 11; Moore, Talks in a Library with Laurence Hutton, p. 270.

CHAPTER II

LITERARY BACKGROUND.

A modern essayist remarks that at thirty those for- tunate mortals who have the gift of self-expression stop reading, because the intoxication of creating makes passive looking-on at literature too tame to be interesting. Certainly no woman was ever busier with her pen than was Joanna Baillie, for between 1793 and 1836 she published twenty-seven dramas, seven metrical legends of exalted characters, many short poems, and a treatise on the nature and dignity of Jesus Christ. In spite of this productivity, there are indications that she was increasingly interested in reading.

In 1836 a writer in the Quarterly Review said of Miss BailHe :

Nor has she, like our old dramatists, or even the prince of our dramatists, freely laid under contribution the novel, the poem, the chronicler, the older play, whatever could furnish a background ready sketched out for the introduction of their own groupes of figures. No dramatist has borrowed so little : we do not presume to venture within the sanctuary of her study, but few writers could be proved out of their own works to have read so little as Miss Baillie.

With modem temerity let us ' venture within the sanc- tuary of her study ' on the ground floor of Bolton House, and try to reconstruct the reading which occupied her there. Her great -niece writes : * As to her library I never heard that she had any valuable collection of books. They were doubtless absorbed in my father's library and there is no list of them. The library is now broken up but of course I preserved presentation and other books.'

70 The Life and Work of Joa^ina Baillie

Some books, then, she owned, but she belonged to that increasing body who borrow from the pubHc libraries.

The poems included in her first volume. Fugitive Verses, indicate a simple, inexperienced woman, whose life had been spent more with nature than with books. In her old age. Miss Baillie commented upon her ignorance in 1790. ' When these poems were written,' she says, ' the author was young in years, and younger still in literary knowledge. Of all our eminent poets of modern times, not one was then known. Mr. Hayley and Miss Seward, and a few other cultivated poetical writers, were the poets spoken of in literary circles. Burns, read and appreciated as he deserved by his own countrymen, was known to few readers south of the Tweed, where I then resided.'^ The only verses in this volume whose tone suggests poetical influence are A Winter's Day and A Summer's Day. The first of these follows the general idea of The Cotter's Saturday Night, without having its dignity. When these Fugitive Verses were collected with her other works, Miss Baillie added to A Winter's Day a group of lines on ' the Evening exercise,' which increase the resemblance to Burns.^ The only other indication of her intellectual life before 1798 is her knowledge of the importance of Adam Smith, whom she had the courage to refer to when Henry Mackenzie in her hearing attacked Scotch men of genius.

The first volume of Plays on the Passions appeared in 1798. It was prefaced by an introductory discourse, in which the author explained her theory of the drama. According to Mrs. Piozzi, its tone caused the critics to decide that the dramas were wi'itten by a learned man. This preface closes with a frank statement of her intellectual equipment. After apologizing for the lack of acknowl-

1 Works, p. 772. ^ Ibid., p. 775.

Literary Background yi.

edgment of help from the works of others, she says : * I ani situated where 1 have no library to consult ; my reading through the whole of my life has been of a loose, scattered, unmethodical kind, with no determined direction, and I have not been blessed by nature with the advantages of a retentive or accurate memory. Do not, however, imag- ine from this, I at all wish to insinuate that I ought to be acquitted of every obligation to preceding authors ; and that when a palpable similarity of thought and expression is observable between us, it is similarity produced by accident alone, and with perfect unconsciousness on my part. I am frequently sensible, from the manner in which an idea arises to my imagination, and the readiness with which words, also, present themselves to clothe it in, that I am only making use of some dormant part of that hoard of ideas which the most indifferent memories lay up, and not the native suggestions of my own mind.'^ The fact that this statement was written in 1798 shows an early tendency to analyze her equipment for dramatic production. A knowledge of the past is perhaps less important m her theory of dramatic writing than in that of her immediate predecessors. Her avowed aim was to describe * the boundless variety of nature,' instead of follo\ving the ex- ample of earlier dramatists, through whom ' certain strong outhnes of character, certain bold features of passion, certain grand vicissitudes and strildng dramatic situations, have been repeated from one generation to another.' The indications of a sound foundation are most evident in her discussion of tragedy. She adopts the theory of a Bacchanalian origin for Greek drama^ and in a foot-note, added in her old age, attributes to Homer the long pxDems which were familiar to the Greeks before dramatic poetry

^ Works, p. 17. - Ibid., p. 8.

72 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

originated. Her treatment of the protagonist is definitely Aristotelian in tone,^ as is her idea of the catharsis resulting from tragedy, from which she derives the serious moral purpose which prompted her to write. Her summary of the Greek drama indicates familiarity with the great tragedies. She speaks of the admiration among the Greeks of a play ' in which their great men and heroes, in the most beautiful language, complained of their rigorous fate, but piously submitted to the will of the gods : . . . and in which whole scenes frequently passed, without giving the actors any- thing to do but to speak' 2- — a direct reference to scenes in such plays as Oedipus, or The Trojan Women, or Agamemnon. Shakespeare's plays had been among her favorite books from childhood. At Long Calderwood the family were thrown entirely upon their own resources for entertainment, and Joanna seems to have acquired the habit of reading. Her nephew says that during these years she became ' familiar with the best poets, and above all studied Shake- speare with the greatest enthusiasm. '^ It is surprising, therefore, to find very few references to Shakespeare in her theoretical statements. In the preface to the first volume of miscellaneous plays, she speaks of an ' attachment to the drama of my native country, at the head of which stands one whom every British heart thinks of with pride.'* In two foot-notes she excepts him from her criticism of tragic writers. The first of these notes refers to his fidelity to nature. ' It appears to me a very strong testimony of the excellence of our great national Dramatist,' she says, ' that so many people have been employed in finding out obscure and refined beauties, in what appear to ordinary observation his very defects. Men, it may be said, do so

^ Works, p. lo.

^ Ibid., p. 7, note.

» Ibid., p. IX.

* Ibid., p. 388.

Literary Background 73

merely to show their own superior penetration and ingen- uity. But granting this ; what could make other men listen to them, and listen so greedily too, if it were not that they have received, from the works of Shakspeare, pleasure far beyond what the most perfect poetical com- positions of a different character can afford ? '^ The second note deals with his delineation of character :

Shakespeare, more than any of our poets, gives peculiar and appropriate distinction to the characters of his tragedies. The remarks I have made, in regard to the little variety of character to be met with in tragedy, apply not to him. Neither has he, as other dramatists generally do, bestowed pains on the chief persons of his drama only, leaving the second and inferior ones insignificant and spiritless. He never wears out our capacity to feel by eternally pressing upon it. His tragedies are agree- ably chequered with variety of scenes, enriched with good sense, nature, and vivacity, which relieve our minds from the fatigue of continued distress. ^

The influence of Shakespeare is very evident even in her first volume, and many lines have been criticized as modeled too closely upon those in his plays. Only a few instances will be mentioned, but these will indicate the effect upon her work of her study of Shakespeare. In The Tryal, Harwood's railing against Agnes is an echo of the tone of Petruchio in The Taming of the Shrew, and Agnes' description of her suitors recalls the similar scene in The Merchant of Venice. Basil contains many reminders ; old Geoffrey, for example, affronting the officer, reminds one of Hotspur in / Henry IV. Basil's speech to his mutinous soldiers, and his use of the letter, recalls Antony's speech in Julius Caesar. In addition, the quarrel between Basil and Rosinberg follows the general trend of that between Brutus and Cassius, and the talk between Frederick and Rosinberg that between Cassius and Brutus, when the

* Works, p. 7, note. ^ Ibid., p. 18, note.

74 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

conspirators sound Brutus' attitude toward the plot against Caesar. One of the most noticeable likenesses is that between the witch-scenes in Macbeth and Ethwald.

Her knowledge of modern tragedy is shown by her reference to the admiration for the type of heroes who

bear with majestic equanimity every vicissitude of fortune; who in every temptation and trial stand forth in unshaken virtue, like a rock buffeted by the waves ; who, encompassed with the most terrible evils, in calm possession of their souls, reason upon the difficulties of their state ; and, even upon the brink of de- struction, pronounce long eulogiums on virtue, in the most eloquent and beautiful language.^

In connection with her plan to write a companion- comedy for each of her tragedies on the passions, she makes an interesting analysis of comedy, again without incurring the odium which might result frcm an attack upon definite dramas. Her di\dsion of comedy, as generally exemplified, into four groups, * satirical, witty, sentimental, and busy or circumstantial ' is not so original that we must decide it arose from her own study. Many of her observations, however, point clearly to her knowledge of definite come- dies then in vogue. Upon Shakespeare she makes no attack here, but confines her disapprobation to modem writers.

In connection with Satirical Comedy she says :

These plays are generally the work of men whose judgment and acute observation enable them admirably well to generalise, and apply to classes of men the remarks they have made upon individuals, yet know not how to dress up, with any natural congruity, an imaginary individual in the attributes they have assigned to those classes. ... It only affords us that kind of moral instruction which an essay or a poem could as well have conveyed, and, though amusing in the closet, is but feebly attractive in the theatre.^

^ Works, p. 8.

- Ihid., p. 12, and note.

Literary Background 75

* Two or three persons of quick thought, and whimsical fancy/ she says in regard to Witty Comedy, * who perceive instantaneously the various connections of every passing idea, and the significations, natural or artificial, which single expressions or particular forms of speech can possibly convey, take the lead through the whole, and seem to cummimicate their own peculiar talent to every creature in the play.'^

The references to comedies which she classes as Senti- mental are equally vague, as she mentions no definite dramas when she criticizes the ' embarrassments, diffi- culties, and scruples, which, though sufficiently distressing to the delicate minds who entertain them, are not powerful enough to gratify the sympathetic desire we all feel to look into the heart of man in difficult and trying situations.'^ Her greatest emphasis is laid upon Busy Comedy, and here she goes into much detail in her reference to ' that ambushed bush-fighting amongst closets, screens, chests, easy-chairs, and toilet-tables. '1

But had she read these plays of the previous dramatic era ? Her intense feeling against them leads us to the belief that she had not only read than, but had seen some of them produced. She says, for example, that Witty Comedy * pleases when we read, more than when we see t represented ; and pleases still more when we take it up by accident, and read but a scene at a time.'^ There is no assurance that she had been able before the writing ol this discourse to satisfy propriety, and yet attend the dramatic productions then being given in Hampstead ; but it is hard to beheve that a woman of her determination had failed entirely to satisfy this desire. ^

After the publication of the first series of Plays on the

^ Works, p. 12.

2 MacCunn, Sir Walter Scott's Friends, p. 292.

76 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

Passions, she must be considered as a mature woman, whose knowledge was as complete as it ever would be. In her metrical legend on Lady Griseld Baillie, she explains briefly the position of the Brownie in Scotch folk-lore, and ends by saying, ' Fortunately, perhaps, for the reader, want of learning prevents me from tracing the matter further.'^ Similar statements in other places are so na- turally and easily made as to free her from all charges of affectation. In 1841 a critic in the Quarterly Review said :

Unversed in the ancient languages and literatures, by no means accomplished in those of her own age, or even her own country, this remarkable woman owed it partly to the simpli- city of a Scotch education, partly to the influence of the better portions of Burns' poetry, but chiefly to the spontaneous action of her own forceful genius, that she was able at once, and appar- ently without effort, to come forth the mistress of a masculine style of thought and diction .... which at the time contributed most beneficially to the already commenced reformation of the literary principles of the country.

In the preface to the volume of contemporary poetry edited in 1823, she asks the contributors to remember that, in submitting their poems to an editor without classical learning, and one who never has written correctly, they have rendered themselves liable to be injured.

The only hints that she possessed any knowledge of Latin are contained in the anecdote of her translation of her brother's Latin lesson into English verse, in a casual statement as to the skill of Livy as a historian, and in short quotations from Horace and Persius used as foot-notes. Wlien it comes, however, to a question of her knowledge of classical literature, the statement of the critic seems some- what sweeping. In addition to the knowledge shown in her Introductory Discourse, there should be cited several references in her dramas to classical subjects. She was

^ Works, p. 7=; I.

Literary Background 77

familiar with Pope's translation of the Odyssey, and refers to Horace and to Persius. She also mentions Bacchus, Mercury, Pegasus, Achilles, Proteus, Bacchants, and the siege of Troy.

Her dramas are noticeably free from foreign characters, and from phrases from the modem languages. In The Alienated Manor appears a German philosopher by the name of Smitchenstault. His English is a curious combi- nation of dialects, in some phrases adopting German word-order, but usually sounding toe much confused to resemble any language. * Hear you me : my name is Smitchenstault. Hear you me. De sublime vertue is de grand, de only vertue. I prove you dis. — ^Now we shall say, here is de good-tempered man ; he not quarel, he not fret, he disturb no body. Very well ; let him live de next door to me: but what all dat mean?'^ Manhaunslet, a German servant in Enthusiasm, speaks much the same type of broken English. In the Election, however, Bescatti, the Italian master, uses an almost identical dialect, so far as one can tell from the spelling. * I make no doubt dat in reality dey are the cows, alto in appearance dey are de sheep,' he says.^ There is no s^^^tematic following ot German word-order. Smitchenstault uses the imperative word-order idiomatically in " Hear you me ; " but he also says " he not love wine,' and Manhaunslet uses the negative similarly in ' Do not know.' In both cases, verbs appear in the Enghsh and not in the German order, as in ' let him build my house, let him make my shoe,' and ' When in one moment de large inn house burst into flame, and somebod}^ wid two long arms trowed de child out from window, which I did catch in my gaberdine.' There are no German quo- tations or expressions used even in the drinking-scene in

1 Works, p. 340,

2 Ibid., p. no.

y8 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

Rayner. The description by Sir Level Clump of his efforts at landscape-gardening in The Alienated Manor agrees closely in thought with Solomon's in Kotzebue's Stranger, with which she may have been famihar at this time.^

The use of German scenes, also, is so slight as to seem inconclusive. Germany is the scene of both De Monfort and Rayner, but the action of De Monfort is as suitable to any Catholic country as to ancient Germany. In the preface to the first volume of miscellaneous plays, she says in regard to Rayner :

A play, with the scene laid in Germany, and opening with a noisy meeting of midnight robbers over their wine, will, I believe, suggest to my readers certain sources from which he will suppose my ideas must have certainly been taken. Will he give me perfect credit when I assure him, at the time this play was written, I had not only never read any German plays, but was even ignorant that such things as German plays of any reputation existed ? '^

There is still less evidence in regard to her knowledge of French. The action of The Siege takes place in the French confines of Germany, but there are no foreign phrases used, nor is there anything in the action peculiar to the country. A few French words occur, but the use of esprit de corps, eclat, and hon mot is so common that their appearance does not indicate a knowledge of the language. Her only use of material from French literature is a reference to Le Sage in the Introductory Discourse. In describing human curi- osity she says : ' To lift up the roof of his dungeon, hke the Diahle hoiteux, and look upon a criminal the night before he suffers . . . would present an object to the mind of every person, not withheld from it by great timidity of character, more powerfully attractive than almost any other. '^ In a

^ Works, pp. 337, 354. Inchbald, Vol. 24, Stranger, p. 30.

^ Ibid., p. 389. She must have known by 1804, it seems, Schiller's

Die Rduber.

^ Ibid., p. 2.

Literary Background - 79

foot-note in the Collection of Poems, she quotes in French a single line from Boileau.^

There are many indications that history formed the major part of her reading. In her preface to the miscellaneous plays of 1805, she explains her idea of the use of history. * It appears to me,' she says, ' that, in taking the subject of a poem or play from real story, we are not warranted, even by the prerogatives of hardship, to assign imaginary causes to great public events. We may accompany those events with imaginary characters and circumstances of no great importance, that alter them no more in the mind of the reader, than the garniture with which a painter deco- rates the barrenness of some well-known rock or mountain. '^ It should be noted that she based only one of her plays upon history — Constantine Paleologus. She says that as she was reading Gibbon's account of the siege of Constan- tinople by the Turks, the subject ' pressed itself ' upon her, and * would be written upon. '^ The character of Constantine affected her so deepty that she wished to write upon the ties which bound his few faithful followers to him, but, as some further element was necessary if ordinary spectators were to be interested, she added the imaginary character of Valeria. The temptation to make a romantic passion for Valeria the cause of Mahomet's attack upon the city was strong, as it would * have made this play appear to them more like what a play ought to be ; but I must then have done what I consider as wrong, '^ she says. Mahomet, Justiniani, and Constantine are the only historical charac- ters. In this connection it should be recalled that she refused to write a tragedy on the Fall of Darius, on the ground that she preferred a ' more private and domestic

^ Collection of Poems, p. 146. ^ Works, pp. 390-1. ^ Ibid., p. 390.

So The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

story than that of Darius, which appears to me only fitted for the splendour of a large theatre/

Many references indicate her interest in the history of England and Scotland. Henry's History of England depicts the religious Hfe in Mercia near the end of the Heptarchy in such dark colors as, she thinks, to justify her picture in Ethwald} She makes no claims to historical accuracy here, but exhibits a life consistent with what is known of that confused period. In this preface, she lays herself open to the charge of lack of intellectual thorough- ness, since she deHberately chooses a period ' full of internal discord, usurpation, and change ; the history of which is too perplexed and too little connected with any very im- portant or striking event in the affairs of men, to be fa- miliarly known. ... I have, therefore,' she says, * thought that I might here, without offence, fix my story. '^

Of Holinshed's Chronicles she made some use, as she quotes from it at length in her notes to the Metrical Legend on William Wallace. These references, however, are confined to a few pages of the text, and there are no indi- cations that she knew more of it.^ .Our opinion of her scholarship rises somewhat when we learn that, of the authorities on Wallace that are specially endorsed by the Scottish Text Society, she had carefully consulted two — Holinshed's Chronicle and Buchanan's History of Scotland. Besides these strictly historical sources, she used Barbour's Bruce, Wintoun's Chronicle, Miss Halford's Wallace and Margaret of Anjou, Miss Porter's Scottish Chiefs, and, most of all, the poem of Harry the Minstrel. She also casually mentions Blair as one of her authorities, probably because she knew Blind Harry in his qdition. Her version of

^ Works, p. 153, note.

2 Ibid., p. 105.

3 Ibid., pp. 713, 717, 721, 724, 727, 728.

Literary . Background 8l

Holinshed is modern, but Wintoun and Barbour she quotes in the original, and Blind Harry in a partially modernized form.

In her metrical legend dealing with Lady Griseld Baillie, she uses primarily as her authority Lady Murray's account of the trial, and Wodrow's History of the Sufferings of the Church of Scotland. In the appendix and foot-notes, she quotes extensively from her authorities. In the preface, she tells us that Mr. Rose's answer to Fox's History of James II aroused her interest in Lady Griseld, and that she consulted the original manuscript in charge of the Keeper of Registers in Edinburgh. She refers also to Laing's History of Scotland, and to Hume's History of England. In the Collection of Poems, she uses Prince's Worthies of Devon as an authority. Her interest in Robin Hood lite- rature is indicated in several places. In The Traveller by Night in November, she describes the road which

Seems now to^ind through tangled wood, Or forest wild, where Robin Hood, With all his outlaws stout and bold. In olden days his reign might hold.

In Rayner she has introduced a disconnected episode, which, she says, * is a fancy come into my head from hearing stories in my childhood of Rob Roy, our Robin Hood of Scotland.'

Her historical reading was not, however, confined to England and Scotland. A knowledge of Greek history is sh own by the foot-notes in the Collection of Poems. Planta's History of Switzerland, she says, records a pestilence similar to that in The Dream, and in Miss Plumtre's Residence in France she found the account of a death from fright similar to that of Osterloo. ' I wished to have found some event in the real history of Ceylon,' she says in the preface to The Bride, ' that might have served as a foundation for

82 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

my drama ; but not proving successful in my search, which, circumstanced as I am, could not but be very imperfect, I have of necessity had recourse to imagination.'^ One of her metrical legends deals with Christopher Columbus, and here, too, she is very careful to state her authority. In the foot-notes and the appendix she quotes long passages from Robertson's History of America, and from Herrera's History of America, which she read in Stevens' translation. These two sources she has woven together very cleverly, so as to produce one of the best of her legends. In her old age, Sir John Malcolm's Central India moved her so deeply that she added the poem Ahalya Baee to her Hst.

Miss BailHe seems to have inherited from her father an interest in philosophy and theology, which remained with her throughout her hfe. It is rather surprising to find a person ' so unlearned ' as she, quoting Stewart's Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind in regard to Hume.^ Fox's Book of Martyrs,^ on the other hand, seems a per- fectly normal book for her to know, as are Dr. Samuel Clark's Sermon on The Power and Wisdom of the Gospels,^ Paley's Sermons on Hebrews, Sherlock's Sermons on Phi- lippians;' and Professor Norton's * woik on the genuineness of the Gospels.'^ Between 1824 and 1838 she carried on an intellectual correspondence with Channing. On June 2, 1828, she wrote him concerning his discourse on the Evi- dences of Christianity, which she hked, and in 1834 she was still discussing his writings with him. In 1824 she asked his opinion of Moore's theory that a genius is unfitted for friendship or domestic life.

1 Works, p. 666. ^ Ibid., p. 509. ■^ Ihid., p. 528.

* Ihid., p. 510.

^ Nature and Dignity of Jesus Christ, p. 96, note.

* Original letter in Harvard Library.

Literary Background 83

A comprehensive knowledge of the Bible is to be expected in a daughter of James Baillie, who received her early instruction directly from him. Joanna's attitude toward careful study of it is stated very clearly in the preface to The Bride. There she speaks of ' our sacred Scripture which we call the Gospels; containing His history, and written by men who were His immediate followers and disciples, being eye and ear witnesses of all that they relate ; and let no peculiar opinions or creeds of different classes of Christi- ans ever interfere with what you there perceive plainly and generally taught. It was given for the instruction of the simple and imleamed ; as such receive it.' She took her own advice in preparing the pamphlet on the Nature and Dignity of Jesus Christ, in which she collected all the im- portant statements on the subject that occur in the New Testament. As a result, Sir Walter Scott said in his Journal, * she has published a number of texts on which she conceives the controversy to rest, but it escapes her that she can only quote them through translation. I am sorry this gifted woman is hardly doing herself justice, and doing what is not required at her hand.'

Biblical references and influences are to be found every- where throughout her dramas. The more evident ones include the following :

Now behold the unnumber'd host Of marshall'd pillars on fair Ireland's coast, Phalanx on phalanx rang'd with sidelong bend. Or broken ranks that to the main descend, Like Pharaoh's army, on the Red-sea shore. Which deep and deeper went to rise no more.^

But there's a law above all human bonds. Which damps the eager beating of my heart, And says, ' do thou no murder.'^

^ Collection of Poems, p. 262. ^ Works, p. 394.

f2

84 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

I know right well The darkest, fellest wrongs have been forgiven Seventy times o'er from blessed heav'nly love>

Which human eye hath ne'er beheld, nor mind To human body linked, hath e'er conceiv'd.^

Where our brave hands, instead of sword and spear. The pruning knife and shepherd's staff must grasp. ^

Well, let them know, some more convenient season I'll think of this.'*

Many other references might be given of a similar nature, but these are typical of the entire list.^ In her volume of Fugitive Verses appears a section of Verses on Sacred Subjects. Among them are poems with Biblical titles, St. Matthew, v, 9, St. Luke, xviii, 16, St. Luke, vii, 12, St. John, xxi, i, Job, xiii, 25, Fsalm 14J, and Psalm 93.

It is natural to expect from any writer a familiarity with the hterature of her day. As Scott was Miss Baillie's closest friend, it is not surprising to find many references to his work. The Lay of the Last Minstrel she finished reading shortly before she met Walter Scott in 1806. Before January 10, 1813, Scott had sent her a copy of Rokeby,^ from which she quoted in a foot-note to Christopher Columbus.

In the biography which prefaced the edition of 1851, the following story is told in regard to the greatest tribute ever paid to her genius : * During the stay of the sisters in Scotland, Scott's spirit-stirring and immortal poem of Marmion first appeared ; and Joanna . . . was reading to a circle of friends for the first time this signal triumph of his genius. She came suddenly upon the following lines :

1 Works, p. 88.

2 Ibid., p. 187. ^ Ibid., p. 172.

* Ibid., p. 26.

* Ibid., pp. 4, 7, 186, 187, 293. 390, 834. 835, 839.

* Lockhart 2. 309.

Literary Background 85

Or, if to touch such chord be thine, Restore the ancient tragic line. And emulate the notes that rung From the wild harp, that silent hung By silver Avon's hoi}'- shore. Till twice an hundred years roU'd o'er : When she, the bold enchantress, came With fearless hand and heart on flame ! From the pale willow snatch'd the treasure, And swept it with a kindred measure. Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove With Montfort's hate and Basil's love. Awakening at the inspired strain, Deem'd their own Shakspeare lived again.

'Deeply as Joanna must have felt, from a source which she prized above all others, a tribute of such beauty and power, which could not fail to enhance the fame of the most eminent, she read the passage firmly to the end ; and only displayed a want of self-command when the emotion of a friend who was present became uncontrollable/^ The House of Aspen she read with ' high gratification ' in 1808, while she was in Edinburgh.^ In 1815 he sent her his pamphlet on Waterloo, of which she wrote him her approv- al. ^ Witchcraft was suggested to her by The Bride of Lammermoor, of which she says, ' Soon after the publica- tion of that powerful and pathetic novel, I mentioned my thoughts upon the subject to Sir W. Scott.'* A foot- note to her collection of poems refers to The Antiquary.^

In addition to Scott's novels, she and her sister Agnes read the novels of Charles Dickens as they appeared.^ From one of Dr. Moore's novels she took a character in

i Works, pp. xiv-xv.

^ Familiar Letters i. 104-6.

•■* Lockhart 3. 79.

* Works, p. 613.

5 Collection of Poems, p. 271

• Somerville, pp. 263-4.

86 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

Constantine Paleologus, and she refers to Miss Edgeworth's Castle Rackrent and Ennui, and to Don Quixote. Hogg's Brownie of Bodsbeck she calls an ' ingenious tale.'

There is unfortunately little indication of her attitude toward the poets. Milton and Homer she accounts the greatest poets except Scott. ^ Milton influenced her ex- pressions more than any other English poet. In Ethwald she says,

How like a ship with all her goodly sails Spread to the sun, the haughty princess moves.-

and the foot-note states, * Probably I have received this idea from Samson Agonistes, where Dahlah is compared to a stately ship of Taisus " with all her bravery on, and tackle trim," etc' In explaining the nature and proper- ties of the brownies, she mentions the Lubber Fiend as appearing in Milton, and thus shows her accui ate knowledge of L' Allegro.^ She had a * non-feeling for Lycidas,' because she was * dry and Scotchy.' Sara Coleiidge continues, * her criticisms are so surprisingly narrow and jejune, and show so slight an acquaintance with fine literature in general.' Such quotations as the following point unmistakably to Paradise Lost:

An honour'd sword Like that which at the gate of Paradise From steps profane the blessed region guard.'*

And again :

Around the chief of hell such legions throng'd. To bring back curse and discord on creation.*

' Works, p. 793. ^ Ibid., p. 147. ■' Ibid., p. 751.

* Sara Coleridge, Memoir and Letters, p. 71.

* Works, p. 241.

* Ibid., p. 36.

. Literary Background 87

Basil's great speech, however, is more difficult to place :

I can bear scorpions' stings, tread fields of fire. In frozen gulfs of cold eternal lie. Be toss'd aloft through tracts of endless void. But cannot live in shame.^

These details correspond less exactly to Milton's hell than to Dante's ; she may have known the Inferno in translation.

Some idea of her attitude towards contemporary English poets may be gained from the list of those to whom she appealed for contributions to the Collection of Poems in 1823. The list includes Scott, Southey, Wordsworth, Campbell, Crabbe, Rogers, Milman, Sotheby, Mrs. Bar- bauld, Mrs. John Hunter, Mrs. Hemans, Anna Maria Porter, Mrs. Grant of Laggan, and Miss Holford. In her old age she spent a quiet evening with John Dix, who says : ' She spoke in the most enthusiastic terms of Sir Walter Scott, both as a man, and a writer, and expressed her opinion that take him all together his equal has never Hved. Words- worth, too, was a prime favorite ; but she seemed to have little liking for Shelley, though she spoke of him without severity. Of her own productions she said not a word during the evening. '^

Something has already been said concerning her estimate of Byron, the man ; her opinion of him as a poet was equally scathing, as we have seen above.^ Scott urged her to read Childe Harold, which he declares is a ' very clever poem, but gives no good symptom of the writer's heart or morals.^'

There are several references to minor poets. Mrs. Hemans' poems she knew,^ and those of Miss Fan-

1 Works, p. 45; cf. Inferno V, VI, XIV, XXIV. ' Dix, pp. 345-353-

3 Cf. p. 40.

*■ Lockhart 2. 265. •^ Works, p. 707, note.

88 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

shaw^; she approved so highly of Struthers' Poor Man's Sabbath, that she persuaded Scott to arrange for its publi- cation. ^

There are few references to dramatic literature. She speaks of the characterization of Hamlet and Othello as too difficult for a boy such as Young Roscius,^ and de- scribes with delight Mrs. Siddons' reading of comedy parts from Shakespeare.* She went with friends to the premiere of Talfourd's lon,^ and was present at the first production of Fashionable Friends at Strawberry Hill.^ Mr. Milman's drama. The Martyr of Antioch, she called beautiful, and the similarity of title made her feel ' some degree of scruple ' about retaining her original title of The Martyr. '^ For one of Mrs. Hemans' dramas she interceded with Scott.^ She praises Mrs. Jameson's translations of the plays of the Princess of Saxony,^ and thanks Miss Ferrier for a copy of Destiny, whose characters she analyzes. ^^

A few miscellaneous leferences complete our list of definite books. She seems to have known something of science. Her dramas contain many indications of medical knowledge, which she undoubtedly acquired from her brother. ^1 She wrote to Rogers : ' I have read Sir John Herschell's book twice, or rather three times over, have been the better for it both in understanding and heart,

1 Lockhart 4, 124. •^ Ibid. 2. 59.

^ Works, p. 551. 'Young Roscius ' was Willam Henry West Betty (i 791-1874) he played the part of Hamlet at the age of twelve.

* Collection of Poems, p. 151. ^ Channing 2. 353.

« Cf. p. 9.

^ Works, p. 512.

^ Lockhart 4. 167.

* Erskine, p. 215.

^** Ferrier, Memoir and Correspondence, p. 227.

^* Works, pp. 47, 92, 98, 276; Collection of Poems, p. 227.

Literary Background 89

and mean to read paits of it again ere long ; you will not repent having bestowed it upon me.'^ In her Address to a Steam-Vessel occur the lines.

Watt, who in heraldry of science ranks With those to whom men owe high meed of thanks. And shall not be forgotten, ev'n when Fame Graves on her annals Davy's splendid name !^

Of Lockhart's Life of Scott she never approved.^ Mrs. Jameson's Winter Studies and Summer Rambles in Canada she mentions to Channing^ and Mrs. Dodd's An Autumn near the Rhine she calls * a very entertaining publication.'^ Shortly after her death John Dix published the follow- ing anecdote, which, with its sympathetic personal touch, is a fitting close to this chapter :

Some years ago, I spent the summer months on, as Words- worth calls it, Hampstead's breezy heath, and whilst there, I received from a literary friend a poem on Windermere, with a request that I would, when I had perused it, hand it to Mrs. Joanna Baillie, as there were in the poem references to the Bard of Rydal, and to herself, which he thought would gratify her.

Accordingly as I had not the pleasure of a personal acquain- tance with the poetess, I enclosed the volume, with my friend's note, in a parcel, and was on my way to Holly-bush Hill, the place of the poetess's residence, intending to leave it as I passed, when I stepped into a Circulating Library of the village, for the sake of reading the morning papers.

I had not been there long when a customer entered. It was on old gentlewoman, accompanied by a little serving maid carry- ing a basket. Addressing the man behind the counter, the lady inquired whether the Poetesses of England, which I afterwards learned she had ordered, and was extremely anxious to see, had arrived. The volume was enveloped in paper, which she imme-

' Clay den 3. 77.

^ Collection of Poems, p. 263.

•' Harriet Martineau's Autobiography 2. 317.

* Channing Memoirs 2. 263.

•' Collection of Poems, p. 25.

go The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

diately, and I thought somewhat anxiously, removed. Sitting down, she put on a pair of spectacles, and turned over the leaves of the book until she came to an apparently sought-for portion of it. As she read, her countenance brightened as though she was pleased with what met her eye. I did not recognize her. When she departed, the librarian informed me it was Miss Baillie, or Mrs. Baillie, as she was called by the Hampstead people.^

The Athenaeum said of her : * Out of the fulness of a true heart her works have been written, rather than from any vast or precious store of book-learning : never indeed were a set of high heroic poems so devoid of every trace of research and allusion as her dramas. '^ Might it not be a fairer statement to attribute her writings to a heart filled with a store of knowledge of mankind, gained partly through a keen imagination, and partly by read- ing ? If such an education produced such a woman, Joanna BaiUie may be accepted as an exemplification of her theory of the educational rights of women.

1 Dix, pp. 345-352.

- Athencsum, Jan. 23, 1841, p. 69.

CHAPTER III

DRAMATIC THEORY.

Some months after Joanna Baillie had completed the three plays -included in the first volume of the Plays on the Passions, she wrote an Introductory Discourse as preface to the volume. In it she explained at length her dramatic theory, and outhned the task that she had set for herself. As her work developed, she added details in later prefaces, but" did not modify her belief in any essential matters. As a basis for an estimate of her dramatic works, the following resume of her theory is given :

Curiosity and its results.

From that strong sympathy which most creatures, but the human above all, feel for others of their kind, nothing has become so much an object of man's curiosity as man himself. The child learns about human beings by studying those around him ; in the same manner, grown people spend much time in observing the dress and manner of those about them.

From this universal interest may spring two results : ' the rich vein of the satirist and the wit,' and the type of conversation which degenerates * into trivial and mischievous tatling.' The habit of observation is usually restricted to externals, as to recount superficial impressions requires less reasoning power than would an attempt to establish a character-analysis. > In our ordinary intercourse with society, this curiosity is exer- cised upon men under the common occurrences of life in which * the whimsical and ludicrous will strike us most

92 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

forcibly/ and which gives rise to the genuinely comic in every type of literature. If the same power is exercised upon * extraordinary situations of difficulty and distress/ a genuine tragic interest will be aroused.

The desire to see a man put forth all his strength to resist adversity, or bodily suffering, or natural emotion, is powerful and universal. It is at the bottom of the desire for revenge ; to it, also, may be traced that fear which leads us to dread direct intercourse with the world of spririts. ' No man wishes to see the Ghost himself, which would certainly procure him the best information on the subject, but every man wishes to see one who believes that he sees it, in all the agitation and wildness of that species of terror.' Our interest is equally keen when the evil with which he contends is in his own breast, and no outward circumstance awakens our pity. We are deeply affected by the sight of a man struggling in this way against emotions which we also have experi- enced in some degree ; we watch eagerly for signs of fear or anger.

This divinely implanted curiosity is our best and most powerful instructor. By it we are taught the proprieties and decencies of ordinary life, and are prepared for distressing and difficult situations Unless it is accom- panied by malevolent passions, we cannot well exercise it without becoming more just, more merciful, and more compassionate. This S57mpathy fits a man for inter- esting and instructive writing ; the man who has sym- pathy with others will make a permanent impression upon us.

This sympathetic curiosity is essential for success in all branches of literature. In history, the writer depends upon this human touch for the permanence of his effect. Without it, battles and reforms do not remain in our memory; with it, all is animated. In philosophy, the

Dramatic Theory 93

skilful author dwells largely upon the justice of his argu- ment ; but he makes his point quickly intelligible by illustrations drawn from nature, and from the habits, the manners, and the characters of men. * An argument supported with vivid and interesting illustration will long be remembered, when many equally important and clear are forgotten ; and a work where many such occur, will be held in higher estimation by the generality of men, than one, its superior, perhaps, in acuteness, per- spicuity, and good sense.'

The romance, the tale, and the novel supplement the historian's picture of man in pubHc life. In them much that was absurd, and unnatural, and horrible was offered to us, and was accepted temporarily. In spite of this fact, ' into whatever scenes the novelist may conduct us, what objects soever he may present to our view, still is our attention most sensibly awake to every touch faithful to nature ; still are we upon the watch for every thing that speaks to us of ourselves.'

In epic and pastoral poetry we are often so attracted by the loftiness and refinement, the decoration and ornament, that we are tempted to forget what kind of beings we are. But ' let one simple trait of the human heart, one expression of passion, genuine and true to nature, be introduced, and it will stand forth alone in the boldness of reality, whilst the false and unnatural around it fade away upon every side.' The greatest pleasure we gain from poetry arises from our sympathetic interest in others. ' Were the grandest scenes which can enter into the imagination of man, presented to our view, and all reference to man completely shut out from our thoughts, the objects that composed it would convey to our minds little better than dry ideas of magnitude, colour, and form ; and the remembrance of them would rest upon our minds like the measurement and distances of the planets.'

94 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

To the historian, the philosopher, the novelist, and the poet, the study of human nature is a powerful auxiliary; to the dramatist * it is the centre and strength of the battle.' Other excellencies may atone for the lack of human sympathy in other types of Hterature, but in the drama nothing will supply the place of faithfully dehne- ated nature. The poet and the novelist may repre- sent to you their great characters from the cradle to the tomb. They may represent them in any mood or temper, and under the influence of any passion which they see proper, without being obliged to put words into their mouths. They tell us what kind of people they intend their men and women to be, and as such we receive them. But in the drama the characters must speak directly for themselves. * Under the influence of every passion, humour, and impression ; in the artificial veilings of hypocrisy and ceremony, in the openness of freedom and confidence, and in the lonely hour of medi- tation, they speak We expect to find them creatures

like ourselves ; and if they are untrue to nature, we feel that we are imposed upon.'

Theatrical representations are, consequently, the fa- vorite amusement of all civilized nations. If the drama had not sprung up in the Bacchic rites of Greece, it would soon have developed else where. This Grecian origin of drama has determined its character. The Greeks were familiar with the epic long before the drama arose, and were accustomed to sit for long periods of time, listening to the recitals of bards. As a result they were content with a form of drama in which there was little action, and bursts of passion were few. Without their influence drama * would have been more irregular, more imperfect, more varied, more interesting.'

Dramatic Theory 95

Tragedy.

Tragedy naturally developed first, as every nation delights in the brave struggles of its forefathers, which

* would certainly have been the most animating subject for the poet, and the most interesting for his audience, . . . the first child of the Drama, for the same reasons that have made heroic ballad, with all its battles, murders, and disasters, the earliest poetical compositions of every country/

In tragedy we see the passions, the humors, the weaknesses, the prejudices of our heroes and great men. As the middle and lower classes of people show most plainly the common traits of human nature, we shall find works dealing with them most interesting. To tragedy it belongs, first, to show men in elevated positions exposed to great trials, and, secondly, to unveil to us

* the human mind under the dominion of those strong and fixed passions, which, seemingly unprovoked by outward circumstances, will, from small beginnings, brood within the breast, till all the better dispositions, all the fair gifts of nature, are borne down before them.'

Dramatists of the past have appHed themselves chiefly to the first part of this task, and even here have not been entirely successful. They have preferred the

* embellishments of poetry to faithfully delineated nature,' and have followed too closely the examples of their predecessors. * Neglecting the boundless variety of nature, certain strong outlines of character, certain bold features of passion, certain grand vicissitudes and striking dramatic situations, have been repeated from one gene- ration to another ; whilst a pompous and solemn gravity, which they have supposed to be necessary for the dignity of tragedy, has excluded almost entirely from their works those smaller touches of nature, which so well

,96 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

develop the mind.' The heroes have been such models of virtue and valor, so free from all human weaknesses, that they seem far above our comprehension, as though the writers ' had entirely forgotten that it is only for creatures like ourselves that we feel, and, therefore, only from creatures like oiuselves that we receive the instruc- tion of example/ Warriors are represented as too proud, generous, and daring ; lovers as too amiable, affectionate, and gentle ; tyrants as too monstrous, treacherous, and deceitful to serve as examples for us. * This spirit of imitation, and attention to effect, has likewise confined them very much in their choice of situations and events to bring their great characters into action : rebellions, conspiracies, contentions for empire, and rivalships in love, have alone been thought worthy of trying those heroes ; and palaces and dungeons the only places magnificent or solemn enough for them to appear in.' The second part of the task has been neglected by even the greatest writers of tragedy. They have made use of the passions to mark their several characters, and animate their scenes, rather than to open to our view the nature of those great disturbers of the human breast, with whom we are all, more or less, called upon to contend. To trace them in their rise and progress in the heart seems but rarely to have been the object of any dramatist. On the contrary, characters are usually introduced at the height of the emotion, from which we can only guess the decisions and indecisions by which it has advanced. The passions that may be suddenly excited, and are of short duration, as anger, fear, and oftentimes jealousy, may be fully represented in this manner. The more permanent passions, however, are developed from within, and are best shown as contending with the opposite passions and affections. ' Those great masters of the soul, ambition, hatred, love, every passion that is permanent

Dramatic Theory 97

in its nature, and varied in progress, if represented to us but in one stage of its course, is represented imperfectly/ To such passion belongs lofty language embellished with figures. If it is used commonly for less crucial situa- tions, its power is gone when it is most needed. * This, perhaps, more than an3d:hing else has injured the higher scenes of Tragedy. For, having made such free use of bold, hyperbolical language in the inferior parts, the poet, when he arrives at the highly impassioned, sinks into total inability.*

As a result of this strong belief in the importance of the passions to drama, and in the failure of her predecessors, Joanna Baillie decided to write a series of tragedies * of simpler construction, less embelHshed with poetical decorations, less constrained by that lofty seriousness which has so generally been considered as necessary for the support of tragic dignity, and in which the chief object should be to delineate the progress of the higher passions in the human breast, each play exhibiting a particular passion.' Passion was to be recognized in its early stages. The result of such tragedies upon the spectators was to be a true Greek catharsis.

We cannot, it is true, amidst its wild uproar, listen to the voice of reason, and save ourselves from destruction ; but we can foresee its coming, we can mark its rising signs, we can know the situations that will most expose us to its rage, and we can shelter our heads from the coming blast In checking and subduing those visita- tions of the soul, . . . every one may make considerable progress, if he proves not entirely successful.

Comedy.

It is the province of comedy to exhibit men in the ordinary intercourse of life, to show the varied fashions and manners of the world, and to trace the rise of the stronger passions under conditions that detract from their sublimity. The comic writer may portray the

98 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

smallest traits of character under the most intimate circumstances. Comedy, too, has been led away from the description of nature. In this case the trouble has been the desire to be satirical and witty, and to arouse curiosity and laughter. The most interesting and in- structive class of comedy, therefore, the real charac- teristic, has been neglected ; and satirical, witty, senti- mental, and, above all, busy or circumstantial comedy have occupied most dramatic writers.

Satirical Comedy usually has a simple plot, and the few events are neither interesting nor striking ; its interest depends on the clever dialogue. * The persons of the drama are indebted for the discovery of their peculiarities to what is said of them, rather than to any thing they are made to say or do for themselves.' Witty Comedy usually has a feeble plot, and aims only to amuse ; it has no desire to interest or instruct. Sen- timental Comedy treats of mild * embarrassments, diffi- culties and scruples ' in a generally uninteresting manner. Instead of having a moral effect, it is helping to produce ' a set of sentimental hypocrites.' ' In Busy or Cir- cumstantial Comedy all those ingenious contrivances of lovers, guardians, governantes, and chambermaids ; that ambushed bush-fighting amongst closets, screens, chests, easy-chairs, and toilet-tables, form a gay, varied game of dexterity and invention.' It entertains the indolent or studious man, as he does not need to think, only to look. The moral tendency of it, however, is very faulty. The constant mockery of age and domestic authority, has a bad effect upon the younger part of an audience ; and the continual lying and deceit in the main characters, which are necessary for the plot, are most pernicious. Charac- teristic Comedy shows the world in which we live under famihar circumstances, and offers a wide field. Its aim is to show distinctions in character which may be found

Dramatic Theory 99

among all classes of society, and which are therefore universally interesting. ' It stands but little in need of busy plot, extraordinary incidents, witty repartee, or

studied sentiments A smile that is raised by some trait

of undisguised nature, and a laugh that is provoked by some ludicrous effect of passion, or clashing of opposite characters, will be more pleasing to the generality of men than either the one or the other when occasioned by a play upon words, or a whimsical combination of ideas/ The monotony in comic heroes is owing to the convention of making love the universal passion. As a result, men who are too old for lovers, but who are still in the full vigor of life, are not sufficiently emphasized. In real life we are pleased with eccentricity, but resent its being carried to an extreme in the drama. Minor comic writers distinguish one man from another by some strange whim, which influences every action of his life.

In comedy the stronger passions, love excepted, are seldom introduced. When they are, the result is a serio-comic drama, which does not produce upon our minds a unified effect. Inferior persons in a comedy are often influenced by passion, but such characters affect us slightly, as our chief interest is not in them. A complete exhibition of any passion, with its varieties and its progress, has seldom been attempted in comedy. Even love, though the chief subject of almost every play, has been portrayed in an imperfect manner. The lover is generally introduced ' after he has long been acquainted with his mistress, and wants but the consent of some stubborn relation, relief from some embarrassment of situation, or the clearing up some mistake or love- quarrel occasioned by mahce or accident, to make him completely happy.' This stage of the passion is the least interesting and least instructive, and one stage of any passion must show it imperfectly.

g2

100 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

In accordance with this beHef in the real value of comic drama, Joanna Baillie decided to write a comedy on each passion as a companion to the tragedy. Such comedy should be entertaining to everyone, and instructive to those on whom the passions have not secured a firm hold.

Influence of the Theatre.

' The theatre is a school in which much good or evil may be learned.' Through it the great middle class is instructed in a very effective manner. Every author who attempts to improve the mode of this instruction should be praised for the attempt, even if ' want of abilities may unhappily prevent him from being success- ful in his efforts.*

In order to succeed in exhibiting the growth and character of each of the stronger passions by means of tragedy and comedy, the dramatist must meet certain requirements. ' The passions must be depicted not only with their bold and prominent features, but also with those minute and delicate traits which distinguish them in an infant, growing, and repressed state. . . . The characters over whom they are made to usurp dominion must be powerful and interesting, exercising them with their full measure of opposition and struggle, for the chief antagonists they contend with must be the other passions and propensities of the heart, not outward circumstances and events.' The passions must be ' held to view in their most baleful and imseductive light ; and those qualities in the impassioned which are necessary to interest us in their fate, must not be allowed ... to diminish our abhorrence of guilt.' The passions will be most clearly shown in the heroes if the plot is kept simple, and if secondary characters are calm and unagitated. Such a simple plot can escape monotony only by having great force and truth in the dehneations of nature. The

Dramatic Theory loi

depths of passion are most often touched when a man is alone. Hence by means of sohloquy an actor will often show the development of the passion he is portraying. He should give * to the solitary musing of a perturbed mind, that muttered, imperfect articulation, which grows by degrees into words ; that heavy, suppressed voice, as of one speaking through sleep; that rapid burst of sounds which often succeeds the slow languid tones of distress ; those sudden, untuned exclamations, which, as if frightened at their own discord, are struck again into silence as sudden and abrupt.

The Passions.

The passions which Joanna BaiUie chose fcr treatment are love, hatred, ambition, fear, hope, remorse, jealousy, pride, envy, revenge, anger, joy, and grief. Some of these she later decided to omit icr various reasons : anger, joy, and grief are too transient to become the subjects of dramas of any length ; pride would be very dull, unless used merely as a groundwork for a more turbulent passion ; envy meets with the least sympathy of all the passions, and could be endured only in a comedy or farce ; envy and revenge are so frequently exposed in drama that they may be excluded.

Love is the subject of the first two dramas on the passions, Basil and The Tryal. * Love is the chief groundwork of almost all our tragedies and comedies,' but in these plays the passion is shown in an unbroken view from the beginning to the cHmax. The characters chosen for the exhibition of the passion are * men of a firm, thoughtful, reserved turn of mind,' with whom it has its hardest struggle. In the comedy strong moral principle is made to conquer love, in order to teach restraint.

102 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

' Hatred is next treated in two dramas, De Monfort and The Election. Hatred, as it is conceived here, is entirely distinct from the sense ot wrong which is a result of injury, and also from revenge. It is rather ' that rooted and settled aversion which, from opposition of character, aided by circumstances of little importance, grows at last into such antipathy and personal disgust as makes him who entertains it, feel, in the presence of him who is the object of it, a degree of torment and restlessness which is insufferable.' Envy is here a component part of hatred, and helps to increase our dislike of the passion. It should be carefully noted that ' the passion and not the man is held up to our execration. In both characters hatred is balanced by good traits, as we could have little sympathy with the entirely bad man.' In the comedy, hatred is shown in a different situation, and in a character of less delicacy and reserve.

Ambition is the subject of the next three plays, Eth- wald, Parts I and II, and The Second Marriage, in all of which more time elapses than is usual in dramas. The sto^y of Ethwald is extended to an unusual length, because ' compared with Ambition, perhaps all other passions may be considered as of a transient nature .... To give a full view, therefore, of this passion, it was necessary to show the subject ot it in many different situations, and passing through a considerable course of events. ' To do this within the ordinary limits of one play was impossible, as that play must have been so entirely devoted to this single object as to have been bare of every other interest. The aim of the comedy is to give a view of ambition, as it is generally found in the ordinary intercourse of life, excited by vanity rather than by the love of power.

Fear is the dominant passion in the three next dramas, Orra, The Dream, and The Siege. ' It has been thought

Dramatic Theory 103

that, in Tragedy at least, the principal characters could not possibly be actuated by this passion, without becom- ing so far degraded, as to be incapable of engaging the sympathies and interest of the spectator or reader.' Even fear, however, as it is, under certain circumstances and to a certain degree, a universal passion, may be made interesting in the tragic drama, as it often is in real life. Fear of the supernatural and fear of death are the actu- ating principles in the two tragedies. The Dream breaks two laws of tragedy, as it consists of only three acts, and is written in prose. It is short, in order to avoid mixing any lighter matter with a subject so solemn ; it is in prose, ' that the expressions of the agitated person might be plain, though strong, and kept as closely as possible to the simplicity of nature.' In the comedy, cowardice has been developed by indulgence in a selfish, conceited man, who might have been trained into useful and honourable activity. Fear, in a mixed character of this kind, is a very good subject for comedy.

Hope is exhibited in a serious musical drama, The Beacon. ' This passion, when it acts permanently, loses the character of a passion ; and when it acts violently is, like Anger, Joy, or Grief, too transient to become the subject of a piece of any length. It seemed . . . neither fit for Tragedy nor Comedy.' At one time she considered omitting it entirely, but its * noble, kindly, and engaging nature ' attracted her. The drama can be called neither tragedy nor comedy, for hope belongs to both. As this passion is not so powerfully interesting as those that are more turbulent, and was therefore in danger of becoming languid and tiresome, the drama is relieved by several songs. Only the inferior characters sing, however, and these sing in situations in which it is natural for them to do so. The songs are not spon- taneous expressions of sentiment in the singer, but, like

104 ^^^ ^^/^ ^^^ Work of Joanna Baillie

songs in ordinary life, are the compositions of other people, and are only generally applicable to the situation. Jealousy is the passion shown in Romiero and The Alienated Manor, and remorse in Henriquez.

Stage-craft.

In addition to these statements in regard to dramatic theory and material, the introductions include several discussions of stage-craft. All of the dramas were intended for the stage, not the closet, and were published because the author possessed no likely channel to dra- matic production. ' Upon further reflection,' she says, ' it appeared to me, that by publishing them in this way, I have an opportunity afforded me of explaining the design of m}^ work, and enabhng the pubhc to judge, not only of each play by itself, but as making a part like- wise of a whole ; an advantage which, perhaps, does more than overbalance the splendour and effect of theatrical representation.' The desire for stage-production was so strong that the author decided to publish only the first three volumes of her plays, and leave the others in manuscript foim during her life, in the hope that later dramatic conditions would enable her heirs to produce them at some smaller London theatre. In 1836 she abandoned all hope of their being presented, and publish- ed the final volume.

In the preface to volume three, published in 1812, Miss Baillie described at some length the theatrical situation in London. A choice was offered to the public between legitimate drama and splendid pantomimes, in the first of which lay her interest. It would take a very genuine love for drama to make the former prefer- able, as the words could be heard only imperfectly by two-thirds of the audience, and the finer and more

Dramatic Theory 105

pleasing traits of acting were lost altogether by a still larger proportion.

The size of the London theatres was the main circum- stance that was unfavorable to the production of these plays, as nothing that is indistinctly heard and seen can be truly relished by the most cultivated audience. Shakespeare's plays and some of the other old plays suc- ceeded because they were familiar, and so could be fol- lowed easily by an audience who heard imperfectly. But difficulty of hearing was not the only drawback in these large theatres. Few of the spectators could appreciate the finer shades of expression on the faces of the actors. Mrs. Siddons, and the other actors who had won favor at that time, had been brought up in small theatres. There they were encouraged to express in their faces the variety of fine, fleeting emotion experienced by the characters they represented. The actors in these large theatres considered an audience removed from them to a greater distance, and attempted only such strong expression as could be perceived at a distance. Hence they used ex- aggerated expressions, and the feeling itself, as well as the expression, became false. Such exaggerated feeling will be used where it is not needed, because real occasions for strong expression do not occur frequently enough to satisfy an audience which can only see. This danger is more critical with women than with men, as their features and voices are naturally more delicate than those of men.

The depth and the width of a stage should be propor- tionate. It should be deep enough so that the action does not seem to occur in a long, narrow passage, through which the characters pass in a straight hue. * When a stage is of such a size that as many persons as generally come into action at one time in our grandest and best- peopled plays, can be produced on the front of it in groups, without crowding together more than they would natur-

io6 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

ally do anywhere else for the convenience of speaking to one another, all is gained in point of general effect that can well be gained/ On a large stage, individual figures appear diminutive, and the grouping is stragghng. The effect of such dimensions is particularly objectionable in comedy, in domestic scenes, and in the scenes of tragedy where only two or three people appear at a time. The lighting of a very high and lofty stage, again, is a difficult problem. The more solemn scenes of tragedy, which ought to be dimly seen by twilight, are shown in the full blaze of light, and lack the deeper shades which give a partial indistinctness to the scene. Lamps on the front of the stage throw a strong light, and the effect is very unfavorable to the appearance of the individual actors, and to the general effect of the groups. * When a painter wishes to give intelligence and expression to a face, he does not make his lights hit . . . upon the under curve of the eyebrows, turning of course all the shadows upwards. He does the very reverse of all this ; . . . From this dis- position of the light in our theatres, whenever an actor, whose features are not particularly sharp and pointed, comes near the front of the stage, and turns his face fully to the audience, every feature immediately becomes short- ened, and less capable of any expression, unless it be of the ludicrous kind. This at least will be the effect produced to those who are seated under or on the same level with the stage, making now a considerable proportion of an audience ; while to those who sit above it, the lights and shadows, at variance with the natural bent of the features, will make the whole face appear confused, and, compared to what it would have been with light thrown upon it from another direction, unintelhgible. . . . Stage-scenes generally are supposed to be seen by daylight ; but dayhght comes from heaven, not from the earth ; ' even within-doors the whitened ceilings throw reflected light

Dramatic Theory 107

upon us. This difficulty might be rectified by * bringing forward the roof of the stage as far as its boards or floor, and placing a row of lamps with reflectors along the inside of the wooden front-piece.' Such lighting * I have never indeed seen attempted in any theatre, though it might surely be done in one of moderate dimensions with admirable effect.' With such a system of lighting it would be necessary to do away with the boxes upon the stage, but their removal would be a great advantage. * The front-piece at the top ; the boundary of the stage from the orchestra at the bottom ; and the pilasters on each side, would then represent the frame of a great moving picture, entirely separated and distinct from the rest of the theatre : whereas, at present, an unnatural mixture of audience and actors, of house and stage, takes place near the front of the stage, which destroys the general effect in a very great degree.'

A second important reason for the unpopularity of the legitimate drama was the conscientious objection of many grave and excellent people. In their eyes, dramatic exhibition was unfriendly to the principles and spirit of Christianity. ' The blessed Founder of our religion, who knew what was in man, did not contradict nor thwart this propensity of our nature, but . . . made use of it for the instruction of the multitude, as His incom- parable parables so beautifully testify. The sins and faults which He reproved were not those that are allied to fancy and imagination, the active assistants of all intellectual improvement, but worldliness, uncharitable- ness, selfish luxury, spiritual pride, and hypocrisy. In those days, the representation of Greek drama prevailed in large cities through the whole Roman empire ; yet the apostles only forbade their converts to feast in the

temples of idols, and in sacrifices offered to idols We

cannot, therefore, it appears to me, allege that dramatic

lo8 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

representations are contrary either to the precepts or spirit of the Christian rehgion/

The objections were probably founded upon the dubious character of the plays and playgoers. The manager of a successful theatre will supply the dramas that suit the taste of the most influential part of the audience. If it demands scurrility and broad satire, he will provide them, for they are more easily procured than wit, and require less skill to produce than do de- pictions of higher or more virtuous society. * Will a manager, then, be at pains to provide delicate fare for those who are as well satisfied with garbage.' The objection in regard to the class of people with which one comes in contact at a theatre applies only to young men, as young women of respectable families are care- fully chaperoned. Formerly families attended dramatic productions in a group ; * now the stripling goes by himself, or with some companion equally thoughtless and imprudent ; and the confidence he feels there of not being under the observation of any whom he is likely to meet elsewhere, gives him a freedom to follow every bent of his present inclination, however dangerous.' ' How far the absence of the grave and moral part of society from such places tends to remedy or increase the evils apprehended, ought also to be seriously considered.'

CHAPTER IV

STAGE-HISTORY.

In Spite of Joanna Baillie's desire that her dramas should succeed on the stage, only seven of the twenty- eight — De Monfort, The Family Legend, Henriquez, The Separation, The Election, Constantine Paleologus, and Basil — have been professionally produced. Be- tween 1800 and 1826 the leading theatres of England, Scotland, Ireland, and the United States produced one or more of them. The extent of this stage-history has not been appreciated, as most authorities content them- selves with a general statement that De Monfort and The Family Legend were performed. Correction of many errors in detail would be of little value, so that only the most important are noted in this chapter. ^

Among the names of actors who attempted to imper- sonate her greatest characters will be found all the most famous of the age. The list is headed by John Philip Kemble, Edmund Kean, and Mrs. Siddons ; it also in- cludes Mr. and Mrs. Henry Siddons, Macready, Helen Faucit, and Ellen Terry. In America, Cooper, Hodg- kinson, and Wood played De Monfort. Such perfection of acting was required in the men and women who hoped

1 An example of the generalizations in regard to this stage history- is furnished by the Gentleman's Magazine for April 1851 (N. S. 2, pp. 439-40). In commenting on the death of Miss Baillie the writer says, ' The only ' Play on the Passions ' ever represented on a stage was De Monfort brought out by John Kemble and played for eleven nights.' Neither statement is correct, as other dramas were produced, and De Monfort had eight performances at this time. No notice was taken of the four other plays which appeared on the London stage at different times.

no The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

to succeed in these dramas that few of lesser ability risked failure in them.

As De Monfort has the longest and most successful stage-history, it will be discussed first ; the others follow in chronological order. Undoubtedly performances other than those recorded here occurred in Scotland and Ire- land. The early notices of performances, however, are so incomplete that a full record is impossible to obtain.

j""^ De Monfort

I. England

1800, Tuesday, April 29, London, Drury Lane Theatre, was the first performance of this play.^ It endured the test in a creditable manner, as the announcement of its repetition met with little opposition at the close of the performance, and * the testimonials of approbation were loud and general.' 2 As a result, it was repeated on April 30, May 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, and 9, ^ a total of eight per- formances.* The usual statement assigns eleven per- formances to this run. On May ist, however, The Wheel of Fortune was given, on May 8th A Bold Stroke for a Wife, and on May 4th there was no production.^ Monday, May 5th, was Mrs. Siddons' benefit performance, at which Button reports that ' she was honoured with a fashionable, but not a numerous house. '^

1 Genest, Some Account of the English Stage 7. 465; Monthly Magazine g. 487.

* Newspaper clipping in Genes t's scrap-book, dated by him April 29, 1800,

3 Button, Dramatic Censor 2. 112, 120, 127, 134, 139, 140, 159.

* These dates are further authenticated by a manuscript in the Boston Public Library, in which John Hicks about 1821 collected from the bills all the London performances of Mrs. Siddons and Mr. Kemble.

^ Gentleman's Magazine 70. 597.

* Dutton 2. 139.

Stage-History iii

The cast was :^

De Monfort — Mr. Kemble Jane Dc Monfort — Mrs. Siddons

Rezenvelt — Mr. Talbot Countess Freberg — Miss Heard

Count Freberg — Mr. Barrymore

Manuel — Mr. Powell

Jerome — Mr. Dowton

Grimbald (Conrad) —Mr. Caulfield

Several additional actors are mentioned in connection with the music, but their parts are not given ; among them are Miss Stevens, Mrs. Crouch, 2 and Mr. Sedgwick.^

Mr. Kemble was directly responsible for the production of De Monfort at this time. In regard to Kemble's choice of this play Fitzgerald says, * A leading actor is always exposed to the temptation of being blinded to the general merits of a piece, provided he finds a character which he thinks may suit him.'* The implication of these words is established as a fact by the following statement by Boaden : ' Mr. Kemble, however, had been struck with De Montfort, which I then read by his desire, and he told me of his intention to make some alterations to bring it better within the scope of stage representation, and to act the character himself, consigning his noble sister to the care of Mrs. Siddons.'^ This intention was carried out, but the alteration was never pubhshed.^ The original authorship was evidently still in doubt at the time of the first performance. No name was given on the play-bill, and the Monthly Magazine mentions

^ Genest7.465; De Monfort, ed. New York, 1809 (following title- page).

^ Genest's scrap-book.

^ Dutton 2. 162.

'* Fitzgerald, Life of the Kembles 2. 19.

^ Boaden, Memoirs of the Life of John Philip Kemble 2. 255.

* Williams, Memoirs of John Philip Kemble (no pagination ; included in list of alterations).

112 The Life and Work of Joanna Baillie

the Plays on the Passions without any reference to its authorship.^ The first chpping in Genest's scrap-book refers to ' the author (whoever he may be) ' and another one says, ' Miss BailHe, daughter of the Physician of that name, is the supposed Author of the Play of De Monfort.' Genest's second-night cUpping, dated May i, 1800, corrects this mistake, and says : Miss Bailey, ^Sister of Dr. Bailey, of Great Windmill Street, is the Authoress of the New Tragedy De Monfort. She is a lady of a very fine genius, and promises to be a hterary ornament to her country.

Dutton expended both time and effort in order to compare the drama as produced with the first printed edition. He found that the first edition was already exhausted, and there were no copies available in the libraries. A copy was finally lent to him, and he made his report.^ He had hoped that the scenes to which he objected were the work- of Kemble, but his final statement was that Kemble's changes consisted largely in the correction of grammatical errors. ^ One news- paper-critic came to a different conclusion, but appa- rently made no attempt at accuracy. He says, * Kemble, who has adapted the piece to the Stage, has success- fully bestowed great pains upon the dialogue.'* Genest was offended by an inconsistency in the first act of the printed drama. * The ist scene closes with De Mont- fort's going to bed at night,' he says, ' the scene changes, and he is instantly discovered at breakfast — it is to be hoped that Kemble removed this absurdity — ^but it does not appear from the Dramatic Censor how this was

1 Monthly Magazine 9. 487,

2 Dutton 2. 127, 159. 2 Dutton 2. 160.

* Genest's scrap-book.

Stage-History 113

managed in representation.'^ Button specifies only one dramatic change that Kemble made. In the last scene of the third act, he made Rezenvelt refuse the challenge to fight with De Monfort. ' He tells De Monfort to find out some free, some untried arm, some adversary, against whom he had not that very morning sworn never more to raise his arm in anger. " To such a one," he says, " you may again be a trifhng Hfe in debt ! — again acknow- ledge, and again forget ! — I'll not be guilty of your perjuries." — This conduct . . . undoubtedly displays a dignified and manly mind ; and . . . must have a greater tendency to inflame De Montfort's hatred, and prompt the assassination of the man, who denied him the means of open revenge, than had he a second time been the debtor to Rezenvelt' s generosity. '^

Several shght changes should be noted, the most im- portant of which is the change of scene which accentuates the foreign local color of the play. According to all the printed editions, the scene is Amsberg in Germany, and no familiar locahties are mentioned. In them the spirit is not true to a Teutonic people, but is rather that of a CathoHc country. Since all the editions agree, it seems logical to attribute all pecuHarities in the acting version to Kemble's revision. In the reviews of the first per- formance, the statement is made that the scene is Augs- burg, ^ and that De Monfort fled from Vienna. That the names were given a German pronunciation is indicated by the fact that the first-night reviewers spelled Rezenvelt, Rasenvelt, and Raisenberg.^ The European Magazine assigns to De Monfort the name of Mattheus.^

^ Genest 7. 467.

* Dutton 2. 161.

* European Magazine 37, 384.

* Genest's scrap-book.

h

114 The Life and' Work of Joanna Baillie

The production of the drama was as perfect as money and skill could make it. Kemble may have carried the pecuniary side, as well as the artistic.^ Every care was taken that the play should receive a proper setting. The announcement promised * Scenery, Musick, Dresses, and Decorations entirely new. ' The scenery was designed by Mr. Greenwood and Mr. Capon, who painted * a very imusual pile of scenery, representing a church of the 14th century, with its nave, choir, and side aisles, magnificently decorated, consisting of seven planes in succession. In width this extraordinary elevation was about 56 feet, 52 in depth, and 37 feet in height. It was positively a building. '2 The reviewers agreed that the scenery was magnificent, and must have been very costly. Fitzgerald adds, * The carpenters, however, exhibited a prodigy of skill which might rival the ambitious efforts of our day : . . . [last scene] I suppose one of the earhest specimens of "set" scenery.' ^

In order to increase the attractiveness of the play, music was added in several scenes. Mr. Shaw composed the ' highly pleasing and grand ' music for the third act, and Mr. Kelly for the second and fourth acts. In the second act, a song by Miss Stevens was enthusiastically applauded. 4 In the third act, Mr. Sedgwick sang a glee written by Mr. Shaw, which occurs in the first edition, and was later omitted :

Pleasant is the mantling bowl, And the song of merry soul ; And the red lamps' cheery light; And the goblets