Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart.
Walter Scott to Joanna Baillie, 4 April 1812
“Ashestiel, April 4th, 1812.
“I ought not, even in modern gratitude, which may be
moved by the gift of a purse, much less in minstrel sympathy, which values it
more as your work than if it were stuffed with guineas, to have delayed
thanking you, my kind friend, for such an elegant and acceptable token of your
regard. My kindest and best thanks also attend the young lady who would not
permit the purse to travel untenanted.* I shall be truly glad when I can offer
them in person, but of that there is no speedy prospect. I don’t believe
I shall see London this great while again, which I do not very much regret,
were it
| LETTERS TO MISS BAILLIE—1812. | 393 |
not that it postpones
the pleasure of seeing you and about half-a-dozen other friends. Without having
any of the cant of loving retirement, and solitude, and rural pleasures, and so
forth, I really have no great pleasure in the general society of London; I have
never been there long enough to attempt any thing like living in my own way,
and the immense length of the streets separates the objects you are interested
in so widely from each other, that three parts of your time are past in
endeavouring to dispose of the fourth to some advantage. At Edinburgh, although
in general society we are absolute mimics of London, and imitate them equally
in late hours, and in the strange precipitation with which we hurry from one
place to another, in search of the society which we never sit still to enjoy,
yet still people may manage their own parties and motions their own way. But
all this is limited to my own particular circumstances,—for in a city like
London, the constant resident has beyond all other places the power of
conducting himself exactly as he likes. Whether this is entirely to be wished
or not may indeed be doubted. I have seldom felt myself so fastidious about
books, as in the midst of a large library, where one is naturally tempted to
imitate the egregious epicure who condescended to take only one bite out of the
sunny side of a peach. I suspect something of scarcity is necessary to make you
devour the intellectual banquet with a good relish and digestion, as we know to
be the case with respect to corporeal sustenance. But to quit all this egotism,
which is as little as possible to the purpose, you must be informed that
Erskine has enshrined your letter
among his household papers of the most precious kind. Among your thousand
admirers you have not a warmer or more kindly heart; he tells me Jeffrey talks very favourably of this volume.
I should be glad, for 394 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
his own sake, that he took some
opportunity to retrace the paths of his criticism; but after pledging himself
so deeply as he has done, I doubt much his giving way even unto conviction. As
to my own share, I am labouring sure enough, but I have not yet got on the
right path where I can satisfy myself I shall go on with courage, for
diffidence does not easily beset me, and the public, still more than the
ladies, ‘stoop to the forward and the bold;’ but then in
either case, I fancy, the suitor for favour must be buoyed up by some sense of
deserving it, whether real or supposed. The celebrated apology of Dryden for a passage which he could not
defend, ‘that he knew when he wrote it, it was bad enough to
succeed,’ was, with all deference to his memory, certainly
invented to justify the fact after it was committed.
“Have you seen the Pilgrimage of Childe Harold, by Lord Byron? It
is, I think, a very clever poem, bat gives no good symptom of the
writer’s heart or morals; his hero, notwithstanding the affected
antiquity of the style in some parts, is a modern man of fashion and fortune,
worn out and satiated with the pursuits of dissipation, and although there is a
caution against it in the preface, you cannot for your soul avoid concluding
that the author, as he gives an account of his own travels, is also doing so in
his own character. Now really this is too bad; vice ought to be a little more
modest, and it must require impudence at least equal to the noble Lord’s
other powers, to claim sympathy gravely for the ennui arising from his being
tired of his wassailers and his paramours. There is a monstrous deal of conceit
in it too, for it is informing the inferior part of the world that their little
old-fashioned scruples of limitation are not worthy of his regard, while his
fortune and possessions are such as have put all sorts of gratifications too
much
| LETTER TO MISS BAILLIE—CHILDE HAROLD. | 395 |
in his
power to afford him any pleasure. Yet with all this conceit and assurance there
is much poetical merit in the book, and I wish you would read it.
“I have got Rob
Roy’s gun, a long Spanish-barrelled piece, with his
initials, R. M. C., for Robert Macgregor Campbell, which
latter name he assumed in compliment to the Argyle family, who afforded him a
good deal of private support, because he was a thorn in the side of their old
rival house of Montrose. I have, moreover, a relic of a
more heroic character; it is a sword which was given to the great Marquis of Montrose by Charles I., and appears to have belonged to his father, our
gentle King Jamie. It had been preserved for
a long time at Gartmore, but the present proprietor was selling his library, or
great part of it, and John Ballantyne,
the purchaser, wishing to oblige me, would not conclude a bargain, which the
gentleman’s necessity made him anxious about, till he flung the sword
into the scale; it is, independent of its other merits, a most beautiful blade.
I think a dialogue between this same sword and Rob
Roy’s gun, might be composed with good effect.
“We are here in a most extraordinary
pickle—considering that we have just entered upon April, when according to the
poet, ‘primroses paint the gay plain,’ instead of which both
hill and valley are doing penance in a sheet of snow of very respectable depth.
Mail-coaches have been stopt—shepherds, I grieve to say, lost in the snow; in
short, we experience all the hardships of a January storm at this late period
of the spring; the snow has been near a fortnight, and if it departs with dry
weather, we may do well enough, but if wet weather should ensue, the wheat crop
through Scotland will be totally lost. My thoughts are anxiously turned to the
Peninsula, though I think the Spaniards have
396 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
but one
choice, and that is to choose Lord
Wellington dictator; I have no doubt he could put things right
yet. As for domestic politics, I really give them very little consideration.
Your friends, the Whigs, are angry enough, I suppose, with the Prince Regent, but those who were most apt to
flatter his follies, have little reason to complain of the usage they have met
with—and he may probably think that those who were true to the father in his
hour of calamity, may have the best title to the confidence of the son. The
excellent private character of the old King
gave him great advantages as the head of a free government. I fear the Prince
will long experience the inconveniences of not having attended to his own.
Mrs Siddons, as fame reports, has
taken another engagement at Covent Garden: surely she is wrong; she should have
no twilight, but set in the full possession of her powers.*
“I hope Campbell’s plan of lectures will answer.† I think
the brogue may be got over, if he will not trouble himself by attempting to
correct it, but read with fire and feeling; he is an animated reciter, but I
never heard him read.
“I have a great mind, before sealing this long
scrawl, to send you a list of the contents of the purse as they at present
stand,
“1st. Miss Elizabeth
Baillie’s purse-penny, called by the learned a denarius of
the Empress Faustina.
“2d. A gold brooch, found in a bog in Ireland,
* Mrs Siddons
made a farewell appearance at Covent Garden, as Lady Macbeth, on the 29th of June, 1812;
but she afterwards resumed her profession for short intervals more than
once, and did not finally bid adieu to the stage until the 9th of June,
1819. † Mr Thomas
Campbell had announced his first course of lectures on
English Poetry about this time. |
| LETTER TO MISS BAILLIE—APRIL, 1812. | 397 |
which, for aught
I know, fastened the mantle of an Irish Princess in the days of
Cuthullin, or Neal of the nine
hostages.
“3d. A toadstone—a celebrated amulet, which was
never lent to any one unless upon a bond for a thousand merks for its being
safely restored. It was sovereign for protecting new born children and their
mothers from the power of the fairies, and has been repeatedly borrowed from my
mother, on account of this virtue.
“4th. A coin of Edward
I., found in Dryburgh Abbey.
“5th. A funeral ring, with Dean Swift’s hair.
“So you see my nicknackatory is well supplied,
though the purse is more valuable than all its contents.
“Adieu, my dear friend, Mrs
Scott joins in kind respects to your sister, the Doctor, and
Mrs Baillie,
Agnes Baillie (1760-1861)
The daughter of the Scottish cleric James Baillie and elder sister of the poet Joanna
Baillie with whom she lived in Hampstead for many decades.
Matthew Baillie (1761-1823)
Physician and brother of Joanna Baillie; as successor to the anatomist William Hunter he
treated the pedal deformities of both Walter Scott and Lord Byron.
Sophia Baillie [née Denman] (1771-1845)
The daughter of the obstetrician Thomas Denman and sister of Lord Denman; in 1791 she
married the physician Matthew Baillie, brother of Joanna Baillie.
John Ballantyne (1774-1821)
Edinburgh publisher and literary agent for Walter Scott; he was the younger brother of
the printer James Ballantyne.
Thomas Campbell (1777-1844)
Scottish poet and man of letters; author of
The Pleasures of Hope
(1799),
Gertrude of Wyoming (1808) and lyric odes. He edited the
New Monthly Magazine (1821-30).
King Charles I of England (1600-1649)
The son of James VI and I; as king of England (1625-1649) he contended with Parliament;
he was revered as a martyr after his execution.
John Dryden (1631-1700)
English poet laureate, dramatist, and critic; author of
Of Dramatick
Poesie (1667),
Absalom and Achitophel (1681),
Alexander's Feast; or the Power of Musique (1697),
The Works of Virgil translated into English Verse (1697), and
Fables (1700).
William Erskine, Lord Kinneder (1768-1822)
The son of an episcopal clergyman of the same name, he was a Scottish advocate and a
close friend and literary advisor to Sir Walter Scott.
Francis Jeffrey, Lord Jeffrey (1773-1850)
Scottish barrister, Whig MP, and co-founder and editor of the
Edinburgh
Review (1802-29). As a reviewer he was the implacable foe of the Lake School of
poetry.
Sarah Siddons [née Kemble] (1755-1831)
English tragic actress, sister of John Philip Kemble, famous roles as Desdemona, Lady
Macbeth, and Ophelia. She retired from the stage in 1812.
Jonathan Swift (1667-1745)
Dean of St Patrick's, Scriblerian satirist, and author of
Battle of the
Books with
Tale of a Tub (1704),
Drapier
Letters (1724),
Gulliver's Travels (1726), and
A Modest Proposal (1729).