Harper's New Monthly Magazine, No. VII, December 1850, Vol. II

In Short

This volume is a bound collection of the seventh issue of a monthly magazine from December 1850. It acts as a curated miscellany, featuring serialized fiction, biographical sketches of historical figures, poetry, and detailed reports on current political, artistic, and social developments. By design, the publication aimed to be a "strictly national work," eschewing partisan politics to focus on the diffusion of knowledge, virtue, and aesthetics. Its lasting value lies in its role as a primary source for the cultural climate of the 1850s, capturing the specific anxieties, tastes, and intellectual curiosities of the era through a diverse array of voices and subject matters.

The Story

The magazine begins with a formal address from its publishers, who celebrate the success of their first year. They pledge to continue providing "valuable information and mental enjoyment" to a growing audience, promising that subsequent volumes will maintain a commitment to impartiality and high artistic standards. This introductory mission statement frames the entire collection as a vessel for both education and refinement.

The narrative content that follows is wide-ranging. It includes evocative poetry, such as a meditation on the decline of a once-vibrant village tavern, where the loss of local social hubs is lamented as a symptom of broader, transitory change. The magazine then shifts into historical drama, recounting the harrowing flight of King Charles II. The king, weary and desperate, relies on the steadfast loyalty of the Penderel brothers to navigate a dark and rainy night, moving from one hiding spot to another while reflecting on his reduced circumstances.

The scope expands to include the tragic imprisonment of Mary, Queen of Scots, at Lochleven Castle. The text describes her confinement on a wave-encircled island, highlighting the malice of her captors and the enduring historical fascination with her suffering. From the sorrows of royalty, the focus transitions to the political giants of the French Revolution. Here, the magazine offers a character study of Robespierre and Danton, contrasting their differing temperaments and theories of power with a psychological depth that seeks to humanize these historical figures beyond their typical portrayals as mere monsters.

The collection also touches upon the personal and the quotidian. One story details a man’s encounter in a foreign land, where he receives news of a death and is warned of local hostilities, reflecting the period’s interest in travel and international intrigue. Another segment explores the quiet, literary pilgrimage to Milton’s cottage, emphasizing the ennobling power of genius. Contrastingly, a more modern story of the time depicts the harsh reality of the game laws, where a family faces potential ruin over the possession of a pheasant, illustrating the social tensions of the English countryside. The volume concludes with a blend of practical advice, fashion updates, and international news—including updates on the status of the Union in American politics and reports on European meteorological studies—before settling into detailed descriptions of the latest evening fashions, complete with instructions on hairstyles and fabric choices.

How It Unfolds

The publishers set the stage. They affirm their commitment to an impartial, nationalistic editorial policy that seeks to educate and delight the American reader through a mix of high-quality original content and selected European works.

Historical and literary musings anchor the middle. The magazine moves through time and space, from the secret, muddy paths used by a fugitive king to the damp, island prison of a deposed queen, grounding these grand events in intimate, human detail.

The narrative descends into contemporary social life. Readers are presented with the stark inequities of rural law, the quiet life of poets, and the strange, haunting superstitions of ordinary townspeople, before the final pages turn to the practicalities of the day.

The collection closes with global updates and fashion. The final beats transition from serious discussions of political secession and international scientific cooperation to the trivial yet essential concerns of evening dress, lilac satin, and current social etiquette.

The People

The figures populating these pages are defined by their struggles against circumstance. King Charles II appears as a man stripped of his regal aura, forced to rely on the humble, loyal Penderel brothers; he is humbled by his dependence, later apologizing for his temporary forgetfulness. Mary, Queen of Scots, is cast as a tragic, isolated figure whose confinement on an island turns her into a symbol of historic endurance.

The French revolutionaries Robespierre and Danton serve as contrasting archetypes: Robespierre is presented as a cold theorist consumed by his own rigid policies, while Danton is depicted as a "Titan" of passion and raw, chaotic power, whose flaws are as gargantuan as his influence.

In the domestic tales, characters like the unfortunate Edward Lovegrove represent the crushing weight of class-based law. His defiance against the local constable shows a man pushed to the brink by poverty and rigid regulations. Conversely, the fictional Ursula undergoes a profound transformation; once a sad, pale woman, she is awakened by the sudden, life-affirming declaration of love from Maurice d’Erval. Finally, figures like Mr. Randolph, the ailing statesman, demonstrate a dignified, if melancholy, focus on intellectual life even as he acknowledges his condition is "passed surgery," showing a character clinging to his identity as a learned man in his final hours.

In Its Own Voice

"My liege, can you blame the mare for going heavily when she bears the weight of three kingdoms on her back?"

(Humphrey Penderel uses this witty reply to reassure the fugitive King Charles II during their difficult journey.)

"The Muses fly at the approach of flannel and water-gruel."

(The author uses this humorous observation to explain why poetry and the common cold are fundamentally incompatible.)

"In the midst of this desolation tradition points out one ancient stem, of fantastic growth, said to have been planted by the royal captive as a memorial of her compulsory residence in the castle."

(This passage describes the enduring, melancholic legacy of Mary, Queen of Scots, at Lochleven Castle.)

What It's Really About

At its heart, this magazine is preoccupied with the tension between the transitory nature of human life and the permanence of history and art. Whether discussing the fall of a local tavern, the execution of a royal, or the preservation of Milton’s home, the text consistently questions how we remember the past and how we navigate the present. It explores the idea that history is composed of "minute" details—old letters, private letters, and personal accounts—that formal chronicles often overlook. Beneath the various stories lies a persistent anxiety about change: the change of political systems, the change of social orders, and the inevitable decay of physical structures. It is a work that asks how an individual can maintain dignity and purpose in an era of rapid, often confusing, societal flux.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the slow, immersive pace of Victorian-era prose will find much to admire here. It is an artifact that demands a patient reader—one willing to move from a serious political analysis of the American South to a guide on the proper sleeves for an evening gown. The experience of reading it feels like sifting through a well-kept, dusty trunk of the nineteenth century; it is rich with the textures of a world that is at once familiar in its human concerns and strikingly alien in its formal, ornate language.

The challenges are present, certainly. The prose is dense, occasionally burdened by the flowery rhetoric of its time, and the social attitudes—particularly regarding class and the "proper" place of individuals—reflect the prejudices of the 1850s. One must also be prepared for the abrupt shifts in tone, as the magazine jumps from the gravity of a political death to the triviality of a fashion column without pause. However, for those interested in the history of ideas or simply looking to step into the consciousness of a bygone era, this volume offers a unique, unfiltered perspective. What stays with the reader is the sense of a culture striving to build a sense of national identity while remaining deeply tied to the literary and political traditions of the Old World, a balancing act that feels both fragile and remarkably ambitious.