8
THE COU;.(.
.
A
gO80OOMM0tlOO0ft0OOMIMM0MHM
THE PASSING SHOW:
W I LLA GATHER 5
At lBt tho poomB of Richard Realf,
poot, soldier and workman sotuo would
add tho harsher title, adventurer who
spent tho six clnaneet and happiest
yeare of hie disordorrd lifo in Pittsburg
Iihvo been collected and edited.
Twenty ono year's ago Ronlf'B tragic
death in San Francisco attracted uni
versal attention. Ho committed suicide
there by drinking laudanum, driven to
desperation by domestic troubles and
pursued by tho malignancy of an almost
incrediblo hatred. His death was called
a tragedy; it waB, howovor, merely tho
end of one, tho falling of the curtain on
i tragedy which had lasted forty-four
yoars. Thero are men who are simply
cast for the tragic parts in lifo. Such a
role was assigned tho man who was once
tho Byronic genius of tho Pittsburg
nresp. and he played it fiercely and well,
up to the limit of his heart and brain
and strength, played it to tho death.
Though tho man has not yot been dead
a quarter of a century, the Btory of his
lifo is 60 wild, eo horrible, so fantastically
groteFquo that it ronds like a romance
evolved by some disordered brain.
Richard Realf was born in SuBRex
county, Eng'and, in 1834. He was born
one of the heirs of poverty and worked
at gardening to pay for his schooling.
When ho wbb eighteeu he publifllied a
volume of versee'GueBBes at the Beauti
ful," which attracted the attention Eliza
Cook, Gerald Massey, Lady Byron and
her daughter, and a nephew of Thack
eray's, and unfortunately secured him
their patronage. Tho young man be
came tho idol of Brighton, the most
fashionable watering place in England,
at the height of the season and for a
season only. This untimely adulation
affected him bb disastrously as it had
done Burns years before, and completely
disarmed him for tho struggle before
him. For, bb George Eliot remarked,
"To be an uncommon young man is to
have an uncommon difficulty in getting
along."
Ho was made Bteward on one of the
Byron estates and there became entan
gled in a disastrous love affair with a
Mibb Noel, a relative of Byron's, the
first of thoBe baleful attachments which
eventually wrecked his life. As if
prophetic of the end, tho first love affair
was terrible in its consequences. He
contracted large debt", wandered over
England indulging in freakish excesses
which called hiB sanity into question,
and was at laet found barefooted and in
rage in the streets of Southampton, fling
ing ballads for tho pennies which pass
ersby threw in his hat So moat of hiB
dreams of love and they exhausted
arithmetic began in the clouds and
ended in the streets. The "oternal
J feminine" which was to thwart him at
" every turn, wait for him in every path,
despoil him of every honor, hold his feet
forover in tho mire and at last track him
to bis death, was first born into his life
with madness and destitution and Bbame
in its wake. And whenever and wher
ever it croseed and rocrosBod his life, it
left that samo black stain. Tho influ
ence which has lifted other poets to the
stars, for bira put out tho sun and more
than once threatened to extinguish
tho light of roaaon itself.
In lSriS Roalf landed in Now York.
In 1830 Richard Roalf and literature
parted company and ho went to Kansas
to take part in the anti-slavery struggle
there, having been one of that conven
tion which pledged itB members to death
in the cauBe of liberty. He was a mem
"V'bor of John Brown's band, but left for
England bofore tho raid on Harper's
Ferry. On his return ho entered a
Jesuit college, remained thero three
months, then wandered over tho coun
try locturing for eoiuo months, and thon
went out in ono of thoso strango disap
pearances which cloudnd his lifo and
perplex hiB biographers. Ho had periods
of total disappearance, absolute lapses,
as it werr, from tho world of tho living.
During thceo disappearances nothing
whatever could bo learner, of him. At
this timo ho wbb seemingly blottod out
for almost two years. When he again
rose to tho Burfaco and caet a shadow
amongst living men, ho enlisted in the
Union army. HiB military career wbb
brilliint. HiB namo was recorded sev
eral timcB in eulogistic general orders
for high personal heroism during tho
two years of mighty fighting in which
the army of tho Cumberland bore so
largo a pat t. His bearing of the colors
to the fro tit at Missionary Ridge has
boen splendidly described by hiB biogra
pher, Colonel R. J. Hinton;
"The dark winding line climbed ever
up and i'p, ono regiment moving eagerly
to the front. Tho heavy fire from the
enemy's rifle pits belched forth, and the
blue lino, yet unformed, momentarily
broke. The ling rose, and then euddonly
fell to tho ground, for the bearer had
been shot. It seemed minutes, but it
wbb not really a second of time, whea
clearly against the hazy autumn sky a
slight, lithe hYure, sword in hand, was
aeen to dash out from tho swaying
ranks. The flag waa raised and swung
aloft aa the soldier faced the command
behind. Cheers were borne to the
straining ears of appreciative generals
and then the whole line swung swiftly
forward to bayonet point under a ter
rific rifle fire. At the forefront was
aeeu the soldier with pointing blade and
waving colors leading the way. A mo
ment more and the rifle pits were
reached. A second's clash and the flag
wus there above the low line of rifle pits.
Over the works wont the Eighty-eighth
Illinois."
In 1845, while Realf was still serving
as a soldier, he contracted his flret legal
marriage with Sophie E. Graves, whom
be met in a bmall western town. Whon
he wbb ordered south be left her in In
diana, apparently with every intention
of returning to her. His letters to her
were warm and frequent. But while he
was serving in the south a fancy seized
him for a society woman who lived in
Washington, and when he received hia
discharge he hastened to that city
agaitat the promptings of hia own rea
son, swayed by one of those violent and
apparently irresistible caprices which
governed and wrecked his life, and led
hia eager feet through such weary wan
derings in deapair and night. Of hia
latter marriage hia biographer aaya:
"The marriages of Richard Realf have
been much discussed. I use the plural,
though legally there waa but one mar
riage. The second ceremony waa biga
mous in character and Realf had no
knowledge whatever of hia being free
from the wholesome and honorable rela
tion that he fit at entered upon. The
third relationship entered upon after ho
had obtained from one state court a
divorce from the woman he contracted
marriage with at Rochester, N. Y., was,
it any validity could attach, of the com
mon law order. His partner in this
third union was the mother of children
by him, and everywhere in his latter
years ho. spoke of her as ''my wife' Hia
efforts, letters, and speech were bur
dened by his intense desire to take care
of her and the children. These were
triplets, all girls, and fortunately these
have been adopted and well provided
for. The son has grown to a manhood
worthy and upright.
Catherine Casaidy and Richard Realf
were married at the Church of the
Trinity, Rochester, early in October,
1807. Realf himself never denied his
folly in this rnattor, though ho nover
acknowledged, except to hiH eisler, Bomo
ton years later, tho illogality of tho act,
It is not BUppoBftblo that ho believed
himBolf to have thon had another and
living wife. In bo mo exceedingly pa
thetic letters ho afterwards wrote when
ealoucy mado his socond companion a
raging terror to him, that his Rochester
marriago was contracted during a pro
longed debauch, and to myBolf and
Colonel Samuel F. Tappon, 1hh two
oldest KansaB frionds, ho declared (tint
ho to acted in a fit of mental uborriition.''
Tho six yoarB ho Bpont in Pittsburg bb
writer and editor on tho Coiniiierci.il(
wore tho least tempestuous and most use
ful of hiB lifo. Thero he becamo a con
vert to FranciB Murphy's temperance
movomont, for a timo ovorcamo tho
liquor habit and lectured as co worker
with the reformer. His wife uppcurcd
on the scene and ho obtainod u divorce.
Ho went to England and on hiB return
was completely unmanned to find that
the decree of divorce had been annulled
by a highor court. That moment was
the one which prefigured tho end, the
"fatal third act" of tho grim tragedy
ho played. Scandal ongulfod him, ho
lost his position and bocamo a vagrant
again, took up tho old course, of dark
ways and blind wanderings under a star
less heaven. He drifted from placo to
place, from strait to rtrait, fiom disgrace
to disgrace, always pursued by an Im
placable fury a hato which nover slept.
His flight was only stoppod by tho Pa
cific ocean. In San Francisco ho bid
himself deep. He was working indue
trioualy and hoping to bring hiB third
wife to him when his Pittsburg pursuer
came. He returnod to his lodgings ono
night to find her destroying his manu
scripts and effects Ho asked no ques
tions then. The timo had como, tho
supreme moment. It waa time for tho
curtain. The finest steel has its yield
ing point. He spent his last monoy for
laudanum and got a room in a hotel. Ho
wrote letters to his frionds explaining
his act, saying:
"On no account is tho person calling
herself my wife to be permitted to ap
proach my remains. I Bbould quiver
with horror even in my doath at her
touch.
"I have had heavy burdenB to bear,
such as have eet stronger mon than I
reeling into hell. I have tried to bear
them like a man, but can onduro no
more."
He wrote, moreover, one of tho most
remarkable poems in the language, tho
last linea blurred by the poison which
had numbed hia hand but not chilled
bis brain. He waa buried with a circlet
of yellow hair on his arm, a love-token
from bis first love, MUs Noel. The first
madness and the last; there waa very
little difference between them save of
time and circumstance, In tho first
folly was the essence of the last. But
the verses, which were tho bloody awoat
of all this anguish, tbey will live ub long
aaAmericanlettora.
GeniuB is the one thing indestructible.
The following is a part of his last poem,
the swan song which he wrote alone,
penniless and dying on that last fateful
night in San Francisco. A man's lips
never uttered a braver death cry. A
man's aoul never went out in greater
agony:
'But say that he succeeded If he missed
World's honors and world's plaudits,
and the wage
Of the world's deft lacqueys, still his lips
were kissed
Daily by those high angels who assuage
The thirsting of the poets for he was
Born unto singing and a burthen lay
Mightily on him, and he moaned because
ne could not rightly utter to the day
What God taught in the night. Some
times, nathlcss,
Power fell upon him, and bright tongues
of flame,
And blessings reached him from poor
souls in stress;
And benedictions from black pits of shame,
And little children's love, and old men's
prayers, 1
And a Great hand that led him unawares.
"So he died rich. And if his eyes were
blurred
With big films - silence! he Is in his grave.
Greatly he suffered; greatly, too, he erred)
Yet broke his heart in trying to be brave.
Nor did he wait till Freedom had become
The popular shibboleth of courtier's lips;
He smote for her when God himself
seemed dumb
And all I lis arching skies were In eclipse.
He was a-weary, but Tie fought his fight.
And stood for simple manhood; and was
joyed
To see the august broadening of the light
And new earths heaving heavenward
from the void.
He loved his fellows and their love was
sweet
Plant daisies at his head and at his feet."
Georgo Mooro, in his critiquo on Paul
Vorlaino, says that a groat poem la the
most indt6tructiblo thing in the world;
that if n groat poem wero cast in the
anda of tho Sahara desert or dropped
upon ono of tho remote islands of the
bob it would bo recovered and accorded
its placo among tho world' priceless
pofeBCReionB. Tho theory 0 accords well
with tho fact that these ecattero'i poems,
written for obscure journals publit-bed
in out-of tho way places, sired by a
wundering vagrant, now a soldier, uow
a tramp, now a reformer, now a de
baucho, who spent half hia life fleeing
from tho consoquonces of hia own mis
takes, have boon at last ferreted out,
colloutod, published and accorded the
placo of distinction which ia their due.
Of all tho storm and stress of thia man's
lifo, of all hip innumerable follies and
unspeakable anguish, of all hia dreams
which woro born on the mountain topa
only to die in tho gutter, of all hia ten
derness and pity and courage, theae
threo-Bcoro poems are what remains. In
tho language of Mr. Henry James, "How
much of lifo it takes to make a little
art!"
Every oxprestion of the humau aoul
through tho medium of art is valuable
either up art, or a documentary evidence
upon lifo itself, aa psychological data.
It iB impossible to juage the verses of
Richard Realf merely aa poetry. They
were born in the stormy atmosphere of
overwrought emotions and to the emo
tions rather than to critical discrimina
tion do they appeal. Simple human
anguish in outeide the province of criti
cism. Of a doath scene enacted on the
stage, deliberately planned, no matter
how intensely played cr how complete
tho abandon of the actor, one may say
that it la well done or ill done. But before-
death itself, criticism ia dumb.
Thero are two souneta by Realf, among
his best, which are wonderfully revela
tory of the two sides of hia character,
tho imperious frenzy of hia personal
needs and desirep to which he sacrificed
everything, and which drove bias from
folly to folly, and tte beautiful tender
neES, tho true poet aoul that lived and
suffered amid all these tempests until
the end, and made him beloved by all
mon, and by all women, save one.
PASSION.
I clench my arms about your neck until
The knuckles of my hand grow white
with pain,
And my swollen muscles quiver with the
strain,
And all the pulses of my life stand still.
I say I clench so. Ah! you cannot tear
Yourself away from my mortal grip
Of forlorn tenderness and salt despair.
And child like sorrowing after fellowship,
And wolf-like hunger of the famishing
heart;
For not until my sundering fibers crack.
And my torn limbs from their wrenched
sockets start,
O darling, darling! will I yield me back
To that lone hell whence, shuddering
through and through,
With one wild tiger leap 1 sprang to you,
SILENCE TILL.
But do not heed my trembling; do not shrink
Because my face is haggard and my eyes
Blaze hot with thlrstiness as they would
