R370600D. Strafford.
The Metropolitan Magazine, June 1837, pp. 50–51.
Reprinted in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 3, 386–387 (as May 1837).
Covent Garden Theatre.—Mr. Macready gratified his admirers and the public by producing, on his benefit, a new historical tragedy, called Strafford, from the pen of Mr. Robert Browning, the author of “Paracelsus.” As an acting play, Strafford will undoubtedly hereafter occupy a prominent place on the British stage, but will never, we think, be a favourite in the closet. Strafford is as devoid of any effusion of fancy, or flight of imagination, as any play can well be: it is unadorned by poetry, the blank verse is occasionally rough and halting, the sentiments and opinions are few and common-place, and, above all, the plot is somewhat obscurely developed to those unread in English history; and yet it was eminently successful. Its success was chiefly owing to the admirable conception, and, what is of more importance in an historical play, the faithful delineation of the characters, and the stirring action of the incidents. True to history, Mr. Browning has portrayed Strafford as a great and consummate statesman—as an unprincipled one, but still a great one—as one who, from ambitious motives, was a friend to despotism, but refused to advance to it through gross injustice and incautious courses, as one who having promised Charles to make him “the most absolute lord in Christendom,” proceeded to realise the scheme with policy and strategy; as one in whom despotism had at length obtained an instrument with mind to comprehend, and resolution to act upon, her principles in their length and breadth. Radcliffe, who was Strafford’s intimate friend, tells us, “he was naturally exceeding choleric, an infirmity with which he had great wrestlings; and though he kept a watchfulness over himself concerning it, yet it could not be so prevented, but sometimes upon sudden occasions it would break.” This trait in St[r]afford’s character Mr. Browning has done ample justice to; for instance, in the scene with Charles, when he finds all his plans ruined by the dissolution of the Parliament, in the scene in the lobby of the House of Lords, and in the scene previous to Hollis announcing to him his fate, when “his fiery soul” bursts out in short and broken complaints against Charles for not instantly releasing him. Mr. Macready’s personification of Strafford was the most perfect realisation of history we ever beheld; the irritated, but powerful, mind of Wentworth in him shone finely through his “fretted tenement.” He portrayed, to the life, the prudence and diligence of the minister set at naught by the imprudence and fickleness of the king. The consciousness that he was serving one who was ungrateful for his exertions and sacrifices, were finely drawn by Macready. But, perhaps, the masterpiece of this great actor was the concluding scene: the stern and simple character of his features completely accorded with the original, of whom the poet sung,
On thy brow
Sate terror mixed with wisdom, and at once
Saturn and Hermes in thy countenance.
His face appeared dashed with paleness, and his body stooped with its own infirmities, even more than with its master’s cares. His attention is absorbed in caressing [p. 51→] the objects of his dearest affections, his children; but ever and anon he turns round abruptly to Hollis to inquire the reason of, and at the same breath to complain of, his continued confinement. And when at last he is made to comprehend that his faithless master, Charles, has assented to the bill of attainder, and that he must die forthwith, Macready’s exclamation—“Put not your faith in princes,” &c. was the most solemn and dreadful sound we ever heard uttered by man. The conclusion of the scene, when Strafford implores Pym by all their early recollections to befriend and save Charles from destruction, was peculiarly fine; and in Macready’s face, on leaving the stage for the place of execution, Pym having refused to bend himself, we fancied we could read the history of England for the next ten years. The lines of his countenance prophesied the fate of his sovereign, whom he had too faithfully served, and the reign of rebellion and anarchy in his beloved country. Mr. Vandenhoff’s representation of the stern and inflexible patriot Pym was a judicious and correct piece of acting; and Miss Helen Faucit’s performance of the only poetic creation which adorns the play, was exquisitely beautiful. We do not hesitate to say, that in her hands the Countess of Carlisle received more complete justice than could have been rendered to it by any actress now on the stage, not even excepting Miss Ellen Tree herself, who, in our opinion, has never been rivalled in her realisation of female tenderness, grace, and beauty. The other characters were all tolerably well sustained, if we omit Mr. Dale’s Charles I. Mr. George Bennett, as Denzel Hollis, was less offensive in his declamation than usual; and Mr. Pritchard, as Rudyard, exhibited fewer of his peculiarly disagreeable antic movements. Miss Vincent looked and played the part of Henrietta well; we always observe that this lady performs carefully in Shakspeare, and the more elevated ranks of the drama, whilst she is careless and forward in pieces of minor importance. The opening scene of Strafford is one of the most animated tableaux vivants we ever saw. We regret that the manager has been obliged, by the unexplained secession of Mr. Vandenhoff from his company, temporarily to suspend the performance of Strafford; we trust it will be speedily resumed.
Reviewed:
Strafford (RB), London: Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, 1837.
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