GEORGE H. BOKERGEORGE H. BOKERIN PHILADELPHIA
GEORGE H. BOKER
Like Washington Irving, Bancroft, Hawthorne, Lowell, Motley, Bayard Taylor, and Bret Harte, George H. Boker may be counted among those American authors who have been called upon to serve their country in an official capacity abroad. But the greater part of his life was spent in Philadelphia, where he was born in 1823. The house stands in Walnut Street; a building of good height, with a facing of conventional brown-stone, and set in the heart of the distinctively aristocratic quarter. ForMr.Boker was born to the inheritance of wealth and a strong social position, and it is natural that the place and the face of his house should testify to this circumstance. In fact, he was so closely connected with the society which enjoys a reputed leisure, that when as a young man he declared his purpose of making authorship and literature his life-work, his circle regarded him as hopelessly erratic. Philadelphians, in those days, could respect imported poets, and no doubt partially appreciated poetryin books, as an ornamental adjunct of life. But poetry in an actual, breathing, male American creature of their own “set,” was a different matter. The infant industry of the native Muse was one that they never thought of fostering.
It was soon after graduating at Nassau Hall, Princeton, that Boker made known his intention of becoming an author. From what I have heard, I infer that his resolve caused his neighbors to look upon him with somewhat the same feeling as if he had suddenly been deposited on their decorous doorsteps in the character of a foundling. Nevertheless, he persisted quietly; and he succeeded in maintaining his position as a poet of high rank and an accomplished man of the world, who also took an active part in public affairs. He takes place with Motley on our roll of well-known authors, as a rich young man giving himself to letters; and it is even more remarkable that he should have cultivated poetry in Philadelphia, where the conditions were unfavorable, than that Motley should have taken up history in Boston, where the conditions were wholly propitious. Boker’s house bears the impress of his various and comprehensive tastes. To this extent it becomes an illustration of his character, and the illustration is worth considering.
The first floor, as one enters from the hallway,contains the dining-room at the back, and a long, stately drawing-room fitted up with old-time richness and imbued with an atmosphere of courtly reception. But the library or study is above, on the second floor. It has two windows looking out southward over the garden in the rear of the house, and the whole effect of the room is that of luxurious comfort mingled with an opulence of books. The walls are hung with brown and gilded paper, and the visitor’s feet press upon a heavy Turkish carpet, brought by the poet himself from Constantinople, suggesting the quietude of Tennyson’s “hushed seraglios.” The chairs and the lounges are covered with yellow morocco. On the wall between the two windows hangs a copy of the Chandos portrait of Shakspeare; and below this there is a large writing-table, provided with drawers and cupboards, whereMr.Boker kept his manuscripts. His work, however, was not done at this desk, for in the centre of the room there was a round table under the chandelier, with a large arm-chair drawn up beside it. In this chair, and at this round table,Mr.Boker wrote nearly all his works; but, unlike most authors, he did not do his writing on the table. A portfolio held in front of him, while he sat in the chair, served his purpose; and it may also be worth while to note the fact that his playsand his poems, composed in this spot, were first set down in pencil.
The surroundings are delightful. On all sides the walls are filled with book-cases reaching almost to the ceiling; the windows are hung with heavy curtains decorated with Arabic designs; and in winter a fire of soft coal burns in the large grate at one side of the apartment. The books that glisten from the shelves are cased in bindings and covers of the finest sort, made by the best artists of England and France. As to their contents, the strength lies in a collection of old English drama and poetry and a complete set of the Latin classics. It must be said here, however, thatMr.Boker’s books are by no means confined to the library. The presence of books is visible all through the house, and one can trace at various points the fact that the owner of these books has always aimed to collect the best editions. In later daysMr.Boker has, in a measure, been exiled from the companionship of the choicest books in his study; because, in order to obtain uninterrupted quiet, he has been obliged to retire to a small room on the floor above his library, where he is more secure from disturbance.
The dining-room is a noteworthy apartment, not only because many distinguished persons have been entertained in it, but also because it isbeautifully finished with a ceiling and walls of black oak, framing scarlet panels, that set off the buffets and side-cases full of silver services. If any one fancies, however, that the appointments of the dining-room and the library indicate a too Sybaritic taste, he should ascend to the top floor of the house, whereMr.Boker had a workshop containing a complete outfit for a turner in metals.Mr.Boker always had a taste for working at what he called his “trade” of producing various articles in metal, on his turning-lathe. In younger days it used to be his boast that he could go into the shop of any machinist, take off his coat, and earn his living as a skilled workman. He still practiced at the bench in his own workshop, at the age of sixty-five. It seems to me that he was unique among American authors, in uniting with the grace and fire of a genuine poet the diversions of a rich society man, the functions of a public official, and a capacity for practical work as a mechanic.
We must bear in mind, also, that this skilled laborer, this man of social leisure and amusement, and this poet, was also a man of intense action in the time of the Civil War, when he organized the Union League of Philadelphia, which consolidated loyal sentiment in the chief city of Pennsylvania, at the time when that city was wavering. All the Union Leagues of the country were patternedafter this organization in Philadelphia. Moreover, whenMr.Boker undertook and carried on this work, his whole fortune was in danger of loss, from a maliciously inspired law-suit. With the risk of complete financial ruin impending, he devoted himself wholly to the cause of patriotism, and poured out poem after poem that became the battle-cry of loyalists throughout the North. His character and services won the friendship of General Grant; and after the War, he was appointed United States Minister to Turkey; from which post he was promoted toSt.Petersburg. The impression he made at that capital was so deep that, when he was recalled, Gortschakoff received his successor with these words: “I cannot say I am glad to see you. In fact, I’m not sure that I see you at all, for the tears that are in my eyes on account of the departure of our friend Boker.” In both of these places he rendered important services. Among the dramas which were the fruit of his youth, “Calaynos” and “Francesca da Rimini” achieved a great success, both in England and in this country. The revival of “Francesca da Rimini” at the hands of Lawrence Barrett, and its run of two or three seasons, thirty years after its production, is one of the most remarkable events in the history of the American stage. Nor should it be forgotten that Daniel Webster valued one of Boker’ssonnets so much, that he kept it in memory to recite; and that Leigh Hunt selected Boker as one of the best exponents of mastery in the perfect sonnet.
An early portrait ofMr.Boker bears strong resemblance to Nathaniel Hawthorne in his manly prime. But passing decades, while they did not bend the tall, erect figure, whitened the thick, military-looking moustache and short curling hair that contrasted strikingly with a firm, ruddy complexion. His commanding presence and distinguished appearance were as well known in Philadelphia as his sturdy personality and polished manners were. For many years he continued to act as President both of the Union League and of the old, aristocratic, yet hospitable, Philadelphia Club. These two clubs, his home occupations and his numerous social engagements occupied much of his leisure during the winter; and his summers were usually spent at some fashionable resort of the quieter order. How he contrived to find time for reading and composition it is hard to guess; but his pencil was not altogether idle even in his last years. When a man had so consistently held his course and fixed his place as a poet, a dramatist, a brilliant member of society, an active patriot and a diplomatist, it seems to me quite worth our while to recognize that he did this under circumstances of inherited wealth which usually lead toinertness. It is worth our while to observe that a rich American devoted his life to literature, and did so much to make us feel that he deserved to be one of the few American authors who enjoyed a luxurious home.
George Parsons Lathrop.