Beatrice Harraden.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXI, Issue V, 1 August 1903, Page 296

Beatrice Harraden.

A slight-built, even fragile little lady, dark, with something of the colouring of the South, inherited from her mother, a lady of Swedish-Castilian extraction, raven, clustering hair, brown eyes obscured by gold-rimmed pince-nez, and a dreamy yet wistfully eager expression—that is a little memory of Miss Beatrice Harraden, 8.A., scholar, woman of letters, and successful novelist. To my mind a pathetic personality, despite Miss Harraden's assured fame, despite her rounded happiness in her work, her many friendships, and her typically modern independence. Pathetic, yes, for she looks so frail, so very feminine to have achieved the virile triumphs she has, and then one knows that academic success was purchased at the heavy cost of loss of health —at least of robust health—and that to this day she has to pay the penalty of over-work in her girlhood. From a very early age Miss Harraden gave evidence of a stud'ous and literary bent. Childish pursuits she disdained to a great extent, and childish fiction absolutely, her favourite authors being Sir Walter Scott, Marryat, and R. M. Ballantyne. Always had she the desire to write, and, as she quaintly ob serves, "having had no adventurer. I always wrote tales of adventure in those days.” Then came a triumphal scholastic career in Dresden, Cheltenham Co!-

lege, Queen's College, and Bedford College, terminating in her B.A. at London University, and, a breakdown in health. Miss Harraden sent her first short store to "Blackwood's Magazine.” It was promptly returned, with a kindly note from Mr Blackwood advising her to persevere, and so she plodded on, till at last the proud daj .a me when the “Umbrella Maker” appeared in the famous pages of “Maga.” After recovering from her ill ness Miss Harraden wrote the neve' to-be-forgotten "Ships that Pass in the Night,’’ but prior to that she had written a book for children, entitled “Things Will Take a Turn.” Intense wts her disappointment when Messrs Blackwood rejected "Ships,” on the score that it was too sad for the general publie, md she was glad to dispose of it for a trifle to Messrs Lawrence and Bullen, by who”.' it was eventually published. Its success was almost instantaneous, and few books have enjoyed, or still enjoy, a wider popularity. Mr Blackwood has published the remainder of Miss Harraden s books—all too few in number—and between publisher and author there exists the warmest friendship. Is it not interesting to learn that “Ships that Pass in the Night” was the only oook found ’n Cecil Rhodes’ bedroom at Groote Schur* after his death! And as a persona' reminiscence I may say that I often heard Mr Rhodes express the greatest admiration for the book and its author; whilst Miss Harraden had and has an

equal admiration for the great dead Empire-maker, although the two never met. The minds of the quiet, retiring student and the daring, and one might say not very scrupulous man of actiin passed in the night and spoke each other in passing, and now one has sunk beneath the horizon for ever. Her work ing day never exceeds two hours, and the result of that period of labour if only a few lines. Hence it is not sur prising that since “Ships” in 1893 we have had only two novels, "Hilda Strafford" and "The Fowler,” and another book for children called “Untold Tales from the Past” from Her pen. Her new novel "Katherine Frensham” is at present appearing serially in the “Queen,” and will be published in the autumn. For the rest, Miss Harraden writes every line herself, using a pen with a holder like a running eork, for she is subject to write.-’s cramp, and whilst she has, perhaps, no idiosyncrasy, she likes plenty of room, like Sir Conan Doyle, and, unlike him. unlimited time at her disposal. Indeed, when she contracted to write “Katherine Frensham” for the “Queen" she stipulated for four years to do it in, so distasteful was the idea of being hurried or tied to time in any way, and even then the four years were nearly up before she had finished the tale. Then, like so many women writers, she starts without any plot, but with some centra] idea which unfolds itself as she goes on. She had written sixteen or seven-

teen chapters of “Ships that Pass in the Night” before she foresaw the end. whilst the title was not hit upon unti' long after she had finished the book. I have spoken of Miss Harraden as a quiet student, but I do not wish to convey the impression that she is in any way a recfluse, for the love of travel and strange countries which made her write stories of adventure as a child is still strong in her, and she has travelled widely on the Continent, in America, and especially in California, where, indeed, at one time she had a second home. And now to conclude this very imperfect sketch of a brilliant writer and a charming lady with a little piece of news which I am sure will be of interest. As soon as Miss Harraden has finally revised the proofs of “Katherine Frensham” she is going to write a comedy, which has been in her mind for a long time.—“M.A.P.”