Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart.
Chapter II 1805
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PARTNERSHIP WITH BALLANTYNE. |
37 |
CHAPTER II.
PARTNERSHIP WITH JAMES BALLANTYNE—LITERARY
PROJECTS—EDITION OF THE BRITISH POETS—EDITION OF THE ANCIENT ENGLISH CHRONICLES, &C.
&C.—EDITION OF DRYDEN UNDERTAKEN—EARL MOIRA
COMMANDER OF THE FORCES IN SCOTLAND—SHAM BATTLES—ARTICLES IN THE EDINBURGH REVIEW—COMMENCEMENT OF WAVERLEY—LETTER ON
OSSIAN—MR SKENE’S REMINISCENCES OF
ASHESTIEL—EXCURSION TO CUMBERLAND—ALARM OF INVASION—VISIT OF MR
SOUTHEY—CORRESPONDENCE ON DRYDEN WITH
ELLIS AND WORDSWORTH—1805.
Mr Ballantyne, in his
Memorandum, says, that very shortly after the publication of the Lay, he found himself obliged to apply to Mr Scott for an advance of money; his own capital being
inadequate for the business which had been accumulated on his press, in consequence of the
reputation it had acquired for beauty and correctness of execution. Already, as we have
seen, Ballantyne had received “a liberal loan;”
“and now,” says he, “being compelled, maugre all delicacy,
to renew my application, he candidly answered that he was not quite sure that it would
be prudent for him to comply, but in order to evince his entire confidence in me, he
was willing to make a suitable advance to be admitted as a third-sharer of my
business.” In truth, Scott now embarked in
Ballantyne’s concern almost the whole of the capital at his
disposal, namely, the L.5000 which he had received for Rosebank, and which he had a few
months
38 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
before designed to invest in the purchase of Broadmeadows.
Dis aliter visum.
I have, many pages back, hinted my suspicion that he had formed some
distant notion of such an alliance, as early as the date of Ballantyne’s projected removal from Kelso to Edinburgh; and his
Introduction to the Lay, in 1830, appears to
leave little doubt that the hope of ultimately succeeding at the Bar had waxed very faint,
before the third volume of the Minstrelsy was brought out in 1803. When that hope ultimately vanished
altogether, perhaps he himself would not have found it easy to tell. The most important of
men’s opinions, views, and projects are sometimes taken up in so very gradual a
manner, and after so many pauses of hesitation and of inward retractation, that they
themselves are at a loss to trace in retrospect all the stages through which their minds
have passed. We see plainly that Scott had never been
fond of his profession, but that, conscious of his own persevering diligence, he ascribed
his scanty success in it mainly to the prejudices of the Scotch solicitors against
employing, in weighty causes at least, any barrister supposed to be strongly imbued with
the love of literature; instancing the career of his friend Jeffrey as almost the solitary instance within his experience of such
prejudices being entirely overcome. Had Scott, to his strong sense and
dexterous ingenuity, his well-grounded knowledge of the jurisprudence of his country, and
his admirable industry, added a brisk and ready talent for debate and declamation, I can
have no doubt that his triumph over the prejudices alluded to would have been as complete
as Mr Jeffrey’s; nor in truth do I much question that, had one
really great and interesting case been submitted to his sole care and management, the
result would have been to place his professional character for skill and judgment, and
variety of resource, on so firm
| PARTNERSHIP WITH BALLANTYNE. | 39 |
a
basis, that even his rising celebrity as a man of letters could not have seriously
disturbed it. Nay, I think it quite possible, that had he been intrusted with one such case
after his reputation was established, and he had been compelled to do his abilities some
measure of justice in his own secret estimate, he might have displayed very considerable
powers even as a forensic speaker. But no opportunities of this engaging kind having ever
been presented to him—after he had persisted for more than ten years in sweeping the floor
of the Parliament House, without meeting with any employment but what would have suited the
dullest drudge, and seen himself termly and yearly more and more distanced by
contemporaries for whose general capacity he could have had little respect—while, at the
same time, he already felt his own position in the eyes of society at large to have been
signally elevated in consequence of his extra-professional exertions—it is not wonderful
that disgust should have gradually gained upon him, and that the sudden blaze and tumult of
renown which surrounded the author of the Lay should have at last
determined him to concentrate all his ambition on the pursuits which had alone brought him
distinction. It ought to be mentioned that the business in George’s Square, once
extensive and lucrative, had dwindled away in the hands of his brother Thomas, whose varied and powerful talents were
unfortunately combined with some tastes by no means favourable to the successful
prosecution of his prudent father’s vocation; so that very possibly even the humble
employment of which, during his first years at the bar, Scott had at
least a sure and respectable allowance, was by this time much reduced. I have not his
fee-books of later date than 1803: it is, however, my impression from the whole tenour of
his conversation and correspondence, that after that period he had not only not advanced as
a professional man, but had been retrograding 40 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
in nearly the same
proportion that his literary reputation advanced.
We have seen that, before he formed his contract with Ballantyne, he was in possession of such a fixed income as
might have satisfied all his desires, had he not found his family increasing rapidly about
him. Even as that was, with nearly if not quite L.1000 per annum, he might perhaps have
retired not only from the Bar, but from Edinburgh, and settled entirely at Ashestiel or
Broadmeadows, without encountering what any man of his station and habits ought to have
considered as an imprudent risk. He had, however, no wish to cut himself off from the busy
and intelligent society to which he had been hitherto accustomed; and resolved not to leave
the bar until he should have at least used his best efforts for obtaining, in addition to
his Shrievalty, one of those clerkships of the supreme court at Edinburgh, which are
usually considered as honourable retirements for advocates who, at a certain standing,
finally give up all hopes of reaching the dignity of the bench. “I
determined,” he says, “that literature should be my staff but not my
crutch, and that the profits of my literary labour, however convenient otherwise,
should not, if I could help it, become necessary to my ordinary expenses. Upon such a
post an author might hope to retreat, without any perceptible alteration of
circumstances, whenever the time should arrive that the public grew weary of his
endeavours to please, or he himself should tire of the pen. I possessed so many friends
capable of assisting me in this object of ambition, that I could hardly over-rate my
own prospects of obtaining the preferment to which I limited my wishes; and, in fact, I
obtained, in no long period, the reversion of a situation which completely met
them.”*
The first notice of this affair that occurs in his cor-
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respondence, is in a note of Lord Dalkeith’s, Feb. the 2d, 1805, in which his noble
friend says, “My father desires me to tell you that he has had a communication
with Lord Melville within these few days, and that
he thinks your business is in a good train, though not
certain.” I consider it as clear, then, that he began his negotiations
concerning a seat at the clerk’s table immediately after the Lay was published; and that their commencement had been resolved upon in the
strictest connexion with his embarkation in the printing concern of James Ballantyne and Company. Such matters are seldom
speedily arranged; but we shall find him in possession of his object before twelve months
had elapsed.
Mean while, his design of quitting the bar was divulged to none but those
immediately necessary for the purposes of his negotiation with the Government; and the
nature of his connexion with the printing company remained, I believe, not only unknown,
but for some years wholly unsuspected, by any of his daily companions except Mr Erskine.
The forming of this commercial connexion was one of the most important
steps in Scott’s life. He continued bound by it
during twenty years, and its influence on his literary exertions and his worldly fortunes
was productive of much good and not a little evil. Its effects were in truth so mixed and
balanced during the vicissitudes of a long and vigorous career, that I at this moment doubt
whether it ought, on the whole, to be considered with more of satisfaction or of regret.
With what zeal he proceeded in advancing the views of the new
copartnership, his correspondence bears ample evidence. The brilliant and captivating
genius, now acknowledged universally, was soon discovered by the leading booksellers of the
time to be united with such abundance of matured information in many departments, and,
42 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
above all, with such indefatigable habits, as to mark him out for the
most valuable workman they could engage for the furtherance of their schemes. He had, long
before this, cast a shrewd and penetrating eye over the field of literary enterprise, and
developed in his own mind the outlines of many extensive plans, which wanted nothing but
the command of a sufficient body of able subalterns to be carried into execution with
splendid success. Such of these as he grappled with in his own person were, with rare
exceptions, carried to a triumphant conclusion; but the alliance with Ballantyne soon infected him with the proverbial rashness
of mere mercantile adventure while, at the same time, his generous feelings for other men
of letters, and his characteristic propensity to over-rate their talents, combined to hurry
him and his friends into a multitude of arrangements, the results of which were often
extremely embarrassing, and ultimately, in the aggregate, all but disastrous. It is an old
saying, that wherever there is a secret there must be something wrong; and dearly did he
pay the penalty for the mystery in which he had chosen to involve this transaction. It was
his rule, from the beginning, that whatever he wrote or edited must be printed at that
press; and had he catered for it only as author and sole editor, all had been well; but had
the booksellers known his direct pecuniary interest in keeping up and extending the
occupation of those types, they would have taken into account his lively imagination and
sanguine temperament, as well as his taste and judgment, and considered, far more
deliberately than they too often did, his multifarious recommendations of new literary
schemes, coupled though these were with some dim understanding that, if the
Ballantyne press were employed, his own literary skill would be at
his friend’s disposal for the general superintendence of the undertaking. On the
other hand, Scott’s suggestions were, in many cases, perhaps in the majority of them, conveyed
through Ballantyne, whose habitual deference to his opinion induced
him to advocate them with enthusiastic zeal; and the printer, who had thus pledged his
personal authority for the merits of the proposed scheme, must have felt himself committed
to the bookseller, and could hardly refuse with decency to take a certain share of the
pecuniary risk, by allowing the time and method of his own payment to be regulated
according to the employer’s convenience. Hence, by degrees, was woven a web of
entanglement from which neither Ballantyne nor his adviser had any
means of escape, except only in that indomitable spirit, the mainspring of personal
industry altogether unparalleled, to which, thus set in motion, the world owes its most
gigantic monument of literary genius.
The following is the first letter I have found of Scott to his partner. The Mr Foster mentioned in the beginning of it was a literary
gentleman who had proposed to take on himself a considerable share in the annotation of
some of the new editions then on the carpet—among others one of Dryden.
To Mr James Ballantyne, Printer, Edinburgh.
Ashestiel, April 12th, 1805.
“I have duly received your two favours—also Foster’s. He still howls about the
expense of printing, but I think we shall finally settle. His argument is that
you print too fine, alias too dear. I intend to stick to
my answer, that I know nothing of the matter; but that settle it how you and he
will, it must be printed by you, or can be no concern of mine. This gives you
an ad-
44 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
vantage in driving the bargain. As to every thing
else, I think we shall do, and I will endeavour to set a few volumes agoing on
the plan you propose.
“I have imagined a very superb work. What think you
of a complete edition of British Poets, ancient and modern? Johnson’s is imperfect and out of
print; so is Bell’s,
which is a Lilliputian thing; and Anderson’s, the most complete in point of number, is most
contemptible in execution both of the editor and printer. There is a scheme for
you! At least a hundred volumes, to be published at the rate of ten a-year. I
cannot, however, be ready till midsummer. If the booksellers will give me a
decent allowance per volume, say thirty guineas, I shall hold myself well paid
on the writing hand. This is a dead secret.
“I think it quite right to let Doig* have a share of Thomson;† but he is hard and slippery,
so settle your bargain fast and firm—no loop-holes! I am glad you have got some
elbow-room at last. Cowan will come to, or we will find
some fit place in time. If not, we must build—necessity has no law. I see
nothing to hinder you from doing Tacitus
with your correctness of eye, and I congratulate you on the fair prospect
before us. When you have time you will make out a list of the debts to be
discharged at Whitsunday, that we may see what cash we shall have in bank. Our
book-keeping may be very simple—an accurate cash book and ledger is all that is
necessary; and I think I know enough of the matter to assist at making the
balance sheet.
“In short, with the assistance of a little cash I
have
* A bookseller in Edinburgh. † A projected edition of the Works of the
author of the Seasons. |
no doubt things will go on
à merveille. If you
could take a little pleasuring, I wish you could come here and see us in all
the glories of a Scottish spring. Yours truly,
Scott opened forthwith his gigantic scheme of the
British Poets to Constable, who entered into it with
eagerness. They found presently that Messrs Cadell
and Davies, and some of the other London publishers,
had a similar plan on foot, and after an unsuccessful negotiation with Mackintosh, were now actually treating with Campbell for the Biographical prefaces.
Scott proposed that the Edinburgh and London houses should join in
the adventure, and that the editorial task should be shared between himself and his brother
poet. To this both Messrs Cadell and Mr Campbell
warmly assented; but the design ultimately fell to the ground in consequence of the
booksellers refusing to admit certain works which both Scott and
Campbell insisted upon. Such, and from analogous causes, has been
the fate of various similar schemes both before and since. But the public had no trivial
compensation upon the present occasion, since the failure of the original project led
Mr Campbell to prepare for the press those “Specimens of English Poetry”
which he illustrated with sketches of biography and critical essays, alike honourable to
his learning and taste; while Scott, Mr
Foster ultimately standing off, took on himself the whole burden of a new
edition, as well as biography, of Dryden. The body
of booksellers mean while combined in what they still called a general
edition of the English Poets, under the superintendence of one of their own
Grub-street vassals, Mr Alexander Chalmers.
Precisely at the time when Scott’s poetical ambition had been stimulated by the first outburst
of universal
46 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
applause, and when he was forming those engagements with
Ballantyne which involved so large an accession
of literary labours, as well as of pecuniary cares and responsibilities, a fresh impetus
was given to the volunteer mania in Scotland, by the appointment of the late Earl of Moira (afterwards Marquis of
Hastings) to the chief military command in that part of the empire. The Earl
had married, the year before, a Scottish Peeress, the Countess of
Loudon, and entered with great zeal into her sympathy with the patriotic
enthusiasm of her countrymen. Edinburgh was converted into a camp: independently of a large
garrison of regular troops, nearly 10,000 fencibles and volunteers were almost constantly
under arms. The lawyer wore his uniform under his gown; the shopkeeper measured out his
wares in scarlet; in short, the citizens of all classes made more use for several months of
the military than of any other dress; and the new commander-in-chief consulted equally his
own gratification and theirs, by devising a succession of manoeuvres which presented a
vivid image of the art of war conducted on a large and scientific scale. In the sham battles and sham sieges of 1805,
Craigmillar, Preston, Gilmerton, the Crosscauseway, and other formidable positions in the
neighbourhood of Edinburgh, were the scenes of many a dashing assault and resolute defence;
and occasionally the spirits of the mock combatants—English and Scotch, or Lowland and
Highland—became so much excited that there was some difficulty in preventing the rough
mockery of warfare from passing into its realities. The Highlanders, in particular, were
very hard to be dealt with; and once, at least, Lord Moira was forced
to alter at the eleventh hour his programme of battle, because a battalion of kilted
fencibles could not or would not understand that it was their duty to be beat. Such days as
these must have been more nobly
spirit-stirring than even the best specimens of the fox-chase. To the end of his life
Scott delighted to recall the details of their countermarches,
ambuscades, charges, and pursuits, and in all of these his associates of the Light-Horse
agree that none figured more advantageously than himself. Yet these military interludes
seem only to have whetted his appetite for closet work. Indeed, nothing but a complete
publication of his letters could give an adequate notion of the facility with which he
already combined the conscientious magistrate, the martinet quartermaster, the speculative
printer, and the ardent lover of literature for its own sake. A few specimens must suffice.
To George Ellis, Esq.
Edinburgh, May 26, 1805.
“Your silence has been so long and opinionative, that I am quite authorized, as a Border ballad-monger,
to address you with a—‘Sleep you, or wake you?’ What has
become of the Romances,
which I have expected as anxiously as my neighbours around me have watched for
the rain, which was to bring the grass, which was to feed the new-calved cows,
and to as little purpose, for both Heaven and you have obstinately delayed your
favours. After idling away the spring months at Ashestiel, I am just returned
to idle away the summer here, and I have lately lighted upon rather an
interesting article in your way. If you will turn to Barbour’s Bruce (Pinkerton’s edition, p. 66), you will
find that the Lord of Lorn, seeing Bruce covering the retreat of his followers, compares him to
Gow MacMorn (Macpherson’s Gaul the son of
Morni). This similitude appears to Barbour
a disparagement, and he says, the
48 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
Lord of Lorn might more mannerly have compared the King to
Gadefeir de Lawryss, who was with the mighty
Duke Betys when he assailed the forayers in Gadderis,
and who in the retreat did much execution among the pursuers, overthrowing
Alexander and Thelomier and
Danklin, although he was at length slain; and here,
says Barbour, the resemblance fails. Now, by one of those
chances which favour the antiquary once in an age, a single copy of the romance
alluded to has been discovered, containing the whole history of this
Gadefeir, who had hitherto been a stumbling-block to
the critics. The book was printed by
Arbuthnot, who flourished at Edinburgh in the seventeenth
century. It is a metrical romance, called ‘The Buik of
the Most Noble and Vauliant Conquerour, Alexander the Grit.’
The first part is called the Foray of Gadderis, an
incident supposed to have taken place while
Alexander was besieging Tyre; Gadefeir is
one of the principal champions, and after exerting himself in the manner
mentioned by Barbour, unhorsing the persons whom he named,
he is at length slain by Emynedus, the Earl-Marshal of the
Macedonian conqueror. The second part is called the Avowis
of Alexander, because it introduces the oaths which he and others
made to the peacock in the ‘chalmer of Venus,’ and gives an account
of the mode in which they accomplished them. The third is the Great Battell of Effesoun, in which
Porus makes a distinguished figure. This you are to
understand is not
the Porus of
India, but one of his sons. The work is in decided Scotch, and adds something
to our ancient poetry, being by no means despicable in point of composition.
The author says he translated it from the
Franch, or
Romance, and that he accomplished his work in 1438-9.
Barbour must therefore have quoted from the French
Alexander, and perhaps his praises
of the work excited the Scottish
translator. Will you tell me what you think of all this, and whether any
transcripts will be of use to you? I am pleased with the accident of its
casting up, and hope it may prove the forerunner of more discoveries in the
dusty and ill-arranged libraries of our country gentlemen.
“I hope you continue to like the Lay. I have had a flattering assurance of
Mr Fox’s approbation, mixed with
a censure of my eulogy on the Viscount of
Dundee. Although my Tory principles prevent my coinciding with
his political opinions, I am very proud of his approbation in a literary sense.
W. S.”
In his answer, Ellis
says—“Longman lately informed me
that you have projected a General Edition of our Poets. I expressed to him my anxiety
that the booksellers, who certainly can ultimately sell what they please, should for
once undertake something calculated to please intelligent readers, and that they should
confine themselves to the selection of paper, types, &c. (which they possibly may
understand), and by no means, interfere with the literary part of the business, which,
if popularity be the object, they must leave exclusively to you. I am talking, as you
perceive, about your plan, without knowing its extent, or any of its details; for
these, therefore, I will wait—after confessing that, much as I wish for a corpus poetarum, edited as you would edit it, I
should like still better another Minstrel Lay by the last and best Minstrel; and the
general demand for the poem seems to prove that the public are of my opinion. If,
however, you don’t feel disposed to take a second ride on Pegasus, why not undertake something far less
infra dig. than a mere edition of our
poets? Why not undertake what Gibbon once
undertook—an
50 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
edition of our historians? I have never been able to
look at a volume of the Benedictine edition of the early French historians without
envy.”
Mr Ellis appears to have communicated all his
notions on this subject to Messrs Longman, for
Scott writes to Ballantyne (Ashestiel, September 5), “I have had a visit from
Rees yesterday. He is anxious about a
corpus historiarum, or full edition
of the Chronicles of England, an immense work. I proposed to him beginning with
Hollinshed, and I think the work will be
secured for your press. I congratulate you on Clarendon, which, under Thomson’s direction, will be a glorious publication.”*
The printing-office in the Canongate was by this time in very great
request; and the letter I have been quoting contains evidence that the partners had already
found it necessary to borrow fresh capital—on the personal security, it need not be added,
of Scott himself. He says, “As I have full
confidence in your applying the accommodation received from Sir William Forbes in the most convenient and prudent manner, I have no
hesitation to return the bonds subscribed, as you desire. This will put you in cash for
great matters.”
But to return. To Ellis himself,
he says, “I have had booksellers here in the plural number. You have set little
Rees’s head agog about the Chronicles,
which would be an admirable work, but should, I think, be edited by an Englishman who
can have access to the MSS. of Oxford and Cambridge, as one cannot trust much to the
correctness of printed copies. I will, howover, consider the matter, so far as a decent
edition of Hollinshed is concerned, in case my
time is not other-
wise taken up. As for the British Poets, my
plan was greatly too liberal to stand the least chance of being adopted by the trade at
large, as I wished them to begin with Chaucer.
The fact is, I never expected they would agree to it. The Benedictines had an infinite
advantage over us in that esprit du corps
which led them to set labour and expense at defiance, when the honour of the order was
at stake. Would to God your English Universities, with their huge endowments and the
number of learned men to whom they give competence and leisure, would but imitate the
monks in their literary plans. My present employment is an edition of John Dryden’s Works, which is
already gone to press. As for riding on Pegasus,
depend upon it, I will never again cross him in a serious way, unless I should by some
strange accident reside so long in the Highlands, and make myself master of their
ancient manners, so as to paint them with some degree of accuracy in a kind of
companion to the Minstrel Lay. . . . . . I
am interrupted by the arrival of two gentil
bachelors, whom, like the Count of
Artois, I must despatch upon some adventure till dinner time. Thank
Heaven, that will not be difficult, for although there are neither dragons nor boars in
the vicinity, and men above six feet are not only scarce, but pacific in their habits,
yet we have a curious breed of wild-cats who have eaten all Charlotte’s chickens, and against whom I have declared a war at
outrance, in which the assistance of
these gentes demoiseaux will be fully as
valuable as that of Don Quixote to Pentalopin with the naked arm. So, if Mrs Ellis takes a fancy for cat-skin fur, now is the
time.”
Already, then, he was seriously at work on Dryden. During the same summer, he drew up for the Edinburgh Review an admirable article on Todd’s Edition of
Spenser; another on
Godwin’s Fleetwood; a third, on
52 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
the
Highland Society’s Report concerning the
Poems of Ossian; a fourth, on
Johnes’s Translation of Froissart; a fifth, on Colonel
Thornton’s Sporting
Tour—and a sixth, on some
cookery books—the two last being excellent specimens of his humour. He had, besides, a
constant succession of minor cares in the superintendence of multifarious works passing
through the Ballantyne press. But there is yet
another important item to be included in the list of his literary labours of this period.
The General Preface to his Novels informs us, that “about 1805” he wrote the
opening chapters of Waverley; and the
second title, ’Tis Sixty Years
since, selected, as he says, ”that the actual date of publication
might correspond with the period in which the scene was laid,” leaves no
doubt that he had begun the work so early in 1805 as to contemplate publishing it before
Christmas.* He adds, in the same page, that he was induced, by the favourable reception of
the Lady of the Lake, to think of giving some
of his recollections of Highland scenery and customs in prose; but this is only one
instance of the inaccuracy as to matters of date which pervades all those delightful
Prefaces. The Lady of the Lake was not published until five years
after the first chapters of Waverley were written; its success,
therefore, could have had no share in suggesting the original design of a Highland novel,
though no doubt it principally influenced him to take up that design after it had been long
suspended, and almost forgotten. Thus early, then, had Scott meditated deeply such a portraiture of Highland manners as might
“make a sort of companion” to that of the old Border life in the
“Minstrel Lay;” and he had
probably begun * I have ascertained, since this page was written, that a small
part of the MS. of Waverley is on
paper bearing the watermark of 1805—the rest on paper of 1813. |
and suspended his Waverley, before he expressed to Ellis
his feeling that he ought to reside for some considerable time in the country to be
delineated, before seriously committing himself in the execution of such a task.
“Having proceeded,” he says, “as far as I
think the seventh chapter, I showed my work to a critical friend, whose opinion was
unfavourable; and having then some poetical reputation, I was unwilling to risk the
loss of it by attempting a new style of composition. I, therefore, then threw aside the
work I had commenced, without either reluctance or remonstrance. I ought to add, that
though my ingenuous friend’s sentence was afterwards reversed, on an appeal to
the public, it cannot be considered as any imputation on his good taste; for the
specimen subjected to his criticism did not extend beyond the departure of the hero for
Scotland, and consequently had not entered upon the part of the story which was finally
found most interesting.” A letter to be quoted under the year 1810 will, I
believe, satisfy the reader that the first critic of the opening chapters of Waverley was William Erskine.
The following letter must have been written in the course of this
autumn. It is in every respect a very interesting one; but I introduce it here as
illustrating the course of his reflections on Highland subjects in general, at the time
when the first outlines both of the Lady of the
Lake and Waverley must have
been floating about in his mind:—
To Miss Seward, Lichfield.
Ashestiel [1805].
“You recall to me some very pleasant feelings of my
boyhood, when you ask my opinion of Ossian.
His
54 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
works were first put into my hands by old
Dr Blacklock, a blind poet, of whom you may
have heard; he was the worthiest and kindest of human beings, and particularly
delighted in encouraging the pursuits, and opening the minds, of the young
people by whom he was surrounded. I, though at the period of our intimacy a
very young boy, was fortunate enough to attract his notice and kindness; and if
I have been at all successful in the paths of literary pursuit, I am sure I owe
much of that success to the books with which he supplied me, and his own
instructions. Ossian and
Spenser were two books which the good old bard put into my
hands, and which I devoured rather than perused. Their tales were for a long
time so much my delight, that I could repeat without remorse whole cantos of
the one and duans of the other; and wo to the unlucky wight who undertook to be
my auditor, for in the height of my enthusiasm I was apt to disregard all hints
that my recitations became tedious. It was a natural consequence of progress in
taste that my fondness for these authors should experience some abatement.
Ossian’s poems, in particular, have more charms
for youth than for a more advanced stage. The eternal repetition of the same
ideas and imagery, however beautiful in themselves, is apt to pall upon a
reader whose taste has become somewhat fastidious; and, although I agree
entirely with you that the question of their authenticity ought not to be
confounded with that of their literary merit, yet scepticism on that head takes
away their claim for indulgence as the productions of a barbarous and remote
age; and, what is perhaps more natural, it destroys that feeling of reality
which we should otherwise combine with our sentiments of admiration. As for the
great dispute, I should be no Scottishman if I had not very attentively
considered it at some period of my studies; and, indeed, I have gone
some lengths in my researches, for I
have beside me translations of some twenty or thirty of the unquestioned
originals of Ossian’s poems. After making every
allowance for the disadvantages of a literal translation, and the possible
debasement which those
now collected may have suffered
in the great and violent change which the Highlands have undergone since the
researches of
Macpherson, I am compelled
to admit that incalculably the greater part of the
English Ossian must be ascribed to
Macpherson himself, and that his whole introductions,
notes, &c. &c. are an absolute tissue of forgeries.
“In all the ballads I ever saw or could hear of,
Fin and Ossin are described as
natives of Ireland, although it is not unusual for the reciters sturdily to
maintain that this is a corruption of the text. In point of merit I do not
think these Gaelic poems much better than those of the Scandinavian Scalds;
they are very unequal, often very vigorous and pointed, often drivelling and
crawling in the very extremity of tenuity. The manners of the heroes are those
of Celtic savages; and I could point out twenty instances in which Macpherson has very cunningly adopted the
beginning, the names, and the leading incidents, &c. of an old tale, and
dressed it up with all those ornaments of sentiment and sentimental manners,
which first excite our surprise, and afterwards our doubt of its authenticity.
The Highlanders themselves, recognising the leading features of tales they had
heard in infancy, with here and there a tirade really taken from an old poem,
were readily seduced into becoming champions for the authenticity of the poems.
How many people, not particularly addicted to poetry, who may have heard Chevy- Chase in the nursery or at school, and never
since met with the ballad, might be imposed upon by a new Chevy-Chase, bearing no resemblance to the old one, save in here
and there a stanza
56 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
or an incident? Besides, there is
something in the severe judgment passed on my countrymen—‘that if they
do not prefer Scotland to truth, they will always prefer it to
enquiry.’ When once the Highlanders had adopted the
poems of Ossian as an article
of national faith, you would far sooner have got them to disavow the Scripture
than to abandon a line of the contested tales.
Only they
all allow that Macpherson’s translation is very
unfaithful, and some pretend to say inferior to the original; by which they can
only mean, if they mean any thing, that they miss the charms of the rhythm and
vernacular idiom, which pleases the Gaelic natives; for in the real attributes
of poetry Macpherson’s version is far superior to
any I ever saw of the fragments which he seems to have used.
“The Highland Society have lately set about
investigating, or rather, I should say, collecting materials to defend, the
authenticity of Ossian. Those researches
have only proved that there were no real originals using that word as is
commonly understood to be found for them. The oldest tale they have found seems
to be that of Darthula; but it is perfectly
different, both in diction and story, from that of Macpherson. It is, however, a beautiful specimen of Celtic
poetry, and shows that it contains much which is worthy of preservation.
Indeed, how should it be otherwise, when we know that, till about fifty years
ago, the Highlands contained a race of hereditary poets? Is it possible to
think, that, among perhaps many hundreds, who for such a course of centuries
have founded their reputation and rank on practising the art of poetry in a
country where the scenery and manners gave such effect and interest and imagery
to their productions, there should not have been some who attained excellence?
In searching out those genuine records of the Celtic Muse, and preserving them
from oblivion, with all the
curious information which they must doubtless contain, I humbly think our
Highland antiquaries would merit better of their country, than by confining
their researches to the fantastic pursuit of a chimera.
“I am not to deny that Macpherson’s inferiority in other compositions is a
presumption that he did not actually compose these poems. But we are to
consider his advantage when on his own ground. Macpherson
was a Highlander, and had his imagination fired with the charms of Celtic
poetry from his very infancy. We know, from constant experience, that most
Highlanders, after they have become complete masters of English, continue to
think in their own language; and it is to me
demonstrable that Macpherson thought almost every word of Ossian in Gaelic, although he wrote it down
in English. The specimens of his early poetry which remain are also deeply
tinged with the peculiarities of the Celtic diction and character; so that, in
fact, he might be considered as a Highland poet, even if he had not left us
some Earse translations (or originals of Ossian) unquestionably written by himself. These circumstances
gave a great advantage to him in forming the style of
Ossian, which, though exalted and modified according
to Macpherson’s own ideas of modern taste, is in
great part cut upon the model of the tales of the Sennachies and Bards. In the
translation of Homer, he
not only lost these advantages, but the circumstances on which they were
founded were a great detriment to his undertaking; for although such a dress
was appropriate and becoming for Ossian, few people cared
to see their old Grecian friend disguised in a tartan plaid and philabeg. In a
word, the style which Macpherson had formed, however
admirable in a Highland tale, was not calculated for translating Homer; and it was a great
58 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
mistake in him, excited, however, by the general applause his first work
received, to suppose that there was any thing homogeneous betwixt his own ideas
and those of Homer. Macpherson, in
his way, was certainly a man of high talents, and his poetic powers as
honourable to his country, as the use which he made of them, and I fear his
personal character in other respects, was a discredit to it.
“Thus I have given you with the utmost sincerity my
creed on the great national question of Ossian; it has been formed after much deliberation and enquiry.
I have had for some time thoughts of writing a Highland poem, somewhat in the style of the Lay, giving as far as I can a real picture of what
that enthusiastic race actually were before the destruction of their
patriarchal government. It is true I have not quite the same facilities as in
describing Border manners, where I am, as they say, more at home. But to
balance my comparative deficiency in knowledge of Celtic manners, you are to
consider that I have from my youth delighted in all the Highland traditions
which I could pick from the old Jacobites who used to frequent my
father’s house; and this will, I hope, make some amends for my having
less immediate opportunities of research than in the Border tales.
“Agreeably to your advice, I have actually read over
Madoc a second time, and
I confess have seen much beauty which escaped me in the first perusal. Yet (which yet, by the way, is almost as vile a
monosyllable as but) I cannot feel quite the interest I
would wish to do. The difference of character which you notice, reminds me of
what by Ben Jonson and other old
commedians were called humours, which consisted rather
in the personification of some individual passion or propensity than of an
actual individual man. Also, I cannot
give up my objection that what was strictly true of
Columbus, becomes an unpleasant falsehood
when told of some one else. Suppose I was to write a fictitious book of
travels, I should certainly do ill to copy exactly the incidents which befel
Mungo Park or
Bruce of Kinnaird. What was true of them would
incontestably prove at once the falsehood and plagiarism of my supposed
journal. It is not but what the incidents are natural—but it is their having
already happened which strikes us when they are transferred to imaginary
persons. Could any one bear the story of a second city being taken by a wooden
horse?
“Believe me, I shall not be within many miles of
Lichfield without paying my personal respects to you; and yet I should not do
it in prudence, because I am afraid you have formed a higher opinion of me than
I deserve; you would expect to see a person who had dedicated himself much to
literary pursuits, and you would find me a rattle-sculled half-lawyer,
half-sportsman, through whose head a regiment of horse has been exercising
since he was five years old; half-educated, half-crazy, as his friends
sometimes tell him; half every thing, but entirely Miss
Seward’s much obliged, affectionate, and faithful servant,
His correspondence shows how largely he was exerting himself all this
while in the service of authors less fortunate than himself. James Hogg, among others, continued to occupy from time to time his
attention; and he assisted regularly and assiduously throughout this and the succeeding
year Mr Robert Jameson, an industrious and
intelligent antiquary, who had engaged in editing a collection of ancient popular ballads
before the third volume of the Minstrelsy appeared, and who
60 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
at length published his very
curious work in 1807. Mean time, Ashestiel, in place of being less resorted to by literary
strangers than Lasswade cottage had been, shared abundantly in the fresh attractions of the
Lay, and “booksellers in the
plural number” were preceded and followed by an endless variety of
enthusiastic “gentil bachelors,” whose main temptation from the south
had been the hope of seeing the Borders in company with their Minstrel. He still writes of
himself as “idling away his hours;” he had already learned to appear as
if he were doing so to all who had no particular right to confidence respecting the details
of his privacy.
But the most agreeable of all his visitants were his own old familiar
friends, and one of these has furnished me with a sketch of the autumn life of Ashestiel,
of which I shall now avail myself. Scott’s invitation was in these terms:—
To James Skene, Esq. of Rubislaw.
“Ashestiel, 18th August, 1805.
“I have prepared another edition of the Lay, 1500 strong, moved thereunto by
the faith, hope, and charity of the London booksellers. . . . . If you could,
in the interim, find a moment to spend here, you know the way, and the ford is
where it was; which, by the way, is more than I expected after Saturday last,
the most dreadful storm of thunder and lightning I ever witnessed. The
lightning broke repeatedly in our immediate vicinity, i.e. betwixt us and the Peel wood. Charlotte resolved to die in bed like a good Christian. The
servants said it was the preface to the end of the world, and I was the only
person that maintained my character for stoicism, which I assure you had some
merit, as I
had no doubt that we were
in real danger. It was accompanied with a flood so tremendous, that I would
have given five pounds you had been here to make a sketch of it. The little
Glenkinnon brook was impassable for all the next day, and indeed I have been
obliged to send all hands to repair the ford, which was converted into a deep
pool. Believe me ever yours affectionately,
W. S.”
Mr Skene says, “I well remember the ravages
of the storm and flood described in this letter. The ford of Ashestiel was never a good
one, and for some time after this it remained not a little perilous. He was himself the
first to attempt the passage on his favourite black horse Captain, who had scarcely entered the river when he plunged beyond his
depth, and had to swim to the other side with his burden. It requires a good horseman
to swim a deep and rapid stream, but he trusted to the vigour of his steady trooper,
and in spite of his lameness kept his seat manfully. A cart bringing a new kitchen
range (as I believe the grate for that service is technically called) was shortly after
upset in this ugly ford. The horse and cart were with difficulty got out, but the grate
remained for some time in the middle of the stream to do duty as a horse-trap, and
furnish subject for many a good joke when Mrs Scott
happened to complain of the imperfection of her kitchen appointments.”
Mr Skene soon discovered an important change which
had recently been made in his friend’s distribution of his time. Previously it had
been his custom, whenever professional business or social engagements occupied the middle
part of his day, to seize some hours for study after he was supposed to have retired to
bed. His physician suggested that this was very likely to aggravate his nervous headaches,
the only malady he was
62 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
subject to in the prime of his manhood; and,
contemplating with steady eye a course not only of unremitting but of increasing industry,
he resolved to reverse his plan, and carried his purpose into execution with unflinching
energy. In short, he had now adopted the habits in which, with very slender variation, he
ever after persevered when in the country. He rose by five o’clock, lit his own fire
when the season required one, and shaved and dressed with great deliberation—for he was a
very martinet as to all but the mere coxcombries of the toilet, not abhorring effeminate
dandyism itself so cordially as the slightest approach to personal slovenliness, or even
those “bed-gown and slipper tricks,” as he called them, in which
literary men are so apt to indulge. Arrayed in his shooting-jacket, or whatever dress he
meant to use till dinner time, he was seated at his desk by six o’clock, all his
papers arranged before him in the most accurate order, and his books of reference
marshalled around him on the floor, while at least one favourite dog lay watching his eye
just beyond the line of circumvallation. Thus, by the time the family assembled for
breakfast between nine and ten, he had done enough (in his own language) “to break the neck of the day’s work.” After
breakfast a couple of hours more were given to his solitary tasks, and by noon he was, as
he used to say, “his own man.” When the weather was bad he would labour
incessantly all the morning; but the general rule was to be out and on horseback by one
o’clock at the latest; while, if any more distant excursion had been proposed over
night, he was ready to start on it by ten; his occasional rainy days of unintermitted study
forming, as he said, a fund in his favour, out of which he was entitled to draw for
accommodation whenever the sun shone with special brightness.
It was another rule that every letter he received should be answered
that same day. Nothing else could have enabled him to keep abreast with the flood of
communications that in the sequel put his good nature to the severest test—but already the
demands on him in this way also were numerous; and he included attention to them among the
necessary business which must be despatched before he had a right to close his writing-box,
or as he phrased it, “to say out damned spot, and be a gentleman.” In
turning over his enormous mass of correspondence, I have almost invariably found some
indication that, when a letter had remained more than a day or two unanswered, it had been
so because he found occasion for enquiry or deliberate consideration.
I ought not to omit that in those days Scott was far too zealous a dragoon not to take a principal share in the
stable duty. Before beginning his desk-work in the morning, he uniformly visited his
favourite steed, and neither Captain nor
Lieutenant, nor the
lieutenant’s successor, Brown Adam
(so called after one of the heroes of the Minstrelsy), liked to be fed except by him. The latter charger was indeed
altogether intractable in other hands, though in his the most submissive of faithful
allies. The moment he was bridled and saddled, it was the custom to open the stable door as
a signal that his master expected him, when he immediately trotted to the side of the leaping-on-stone, of which Scott from his
lameness found it convenient to make use, and stood there, silent and motionless as a rock,
until he was fairly in his seat, after which he displayed his joy by neighing triumphantly
through a brilliant succession of curvettings. Brown Adam never
suffered himself to be backed but by his master. He broke, I believe, one groom’s arm
and another’s leg in the rash attempt to tamper with his dignity.
64 |
LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
|
Camp was at this time the constant parlour dog. He was very
handsome, very intelligent, and naturally very fierce, but gentle as a lamb among the
children. As for the more locomotive Douglas and Percy, he kept one window of his study open, whatever might be the
state of the weather, that they might leap out and in as the fancy moved them. He always
talked to Camp as if he understood what was said—and the animal
certainly did understand not a little of it; in particular, it seemed as if he perfectly
comprehended on all occasions that his master considered him as a sensible and steady
friend, the greyhounds as volatile young creatures whose freaks must be borne with.
“Every day,” says Mr
Skene, “we had some hours of coursing with the greyhounds, or
riding at random over the hills, or of spearing salmon in the Tweed by sunlight: which
last sport, moreover, we often renewed at night by the help of torches. This amusement
of burning the water, as it is called, was not without some
hazard, for the large salmon generally lie in the pools, the depths of which it is not
easy to estimate with precision by torchlight,—so that not unfrequently, when the
sportsman makes a determined thrust at a fish apparently within reach, his eye has
grossly deceived him, and instead of the point of the weapon encountering the prey, he
finds himself launched with corresponding vehemence heels over head into the pool, both
spear and salmon gone, the torch thrown out by the concussion of the boat, and quenched
in the stream, while the boat itself has of course receded to some distance. I remember
the first time I accompanied our friend he went right over the gun-wale in this manner,
and had I not accidentally been close at his side, and made a successful grasp at the
skirt of his jacket as he plunged overboard, he must at least have had an awkward dive
for it. Such are the
| ASHESTIEL—1805—MR SKENE. | 65 |
contingencies of
burning the water. The pleasures consist in being penetrated
with cold and wet, having your shins broken against the stones in the dark, and perhaps
mastering one fish out of every twenty you take aim at.”
In all these amusements, but particularly in the burning of the water, Scott’s most
regular companion at this time was John Lord
Somerville, who united with many higher qualities a most enthusiastic love
for such sports, and consummate address in the prosecution of them. This amiable nobleman
then passed his autumns at his pretty seat of Allwyn, or the Pavilion, situated on the
Tweed, some eight or nine miles below Ashestiel. They interchanged visits almost every
week; and Scott did not fail to profit largely by his friend’s
matured and well-known skill in every department of the science of rural economy. He always
talked of him, in particular, as his master in the art of planting.
The laird of Rubislaw seldom failed to spend a part of the summer and
autumn at Ashestiel, as long as Scott remained there,
and during these visits they often gave a wider scope to their expeditions.
“Indeed,” says Mr Skene,
“there are few scenes at all celebrated either in the history, tradition, or
romance of the Border counties, which we did not explore together in the course of our
rambles. We traversed the entire vales of the Yarrow and Ettrick, with all their sweet
tributary glens, and never failed to find a hearty welcome from the farmers at whose
houses we stopped, either for dinner or for the night. He was their chief-magistrate,
extremely popular in that official capacity, and nothing could be more gratifying than
the frank and hearty reception which every where greeted our arrival, however
unexpected. The exhilarating air of the mountains, and tho healthy exercise of the day,
secured our relishing homely fare, and we found inexhaustible entertainment in the
66 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
varied display of character which the affability of the Sheriff drew forth on all occasions in genuine breadth and
purity. The beauty of the scenery gave full employment to my pencil, with the free and
frequent exercise of which he never seemed to feel impatient. He was at all times ready
and willing to alight when any object attracted my notice, and used to seat himself
beside me on the brae to con over some ballad appropriate to the occasion, or narrate
the tradition of the glen—sometimes, perhaps, to note a passing idea in his pocketbook;
but this was rare, for in general he relied with confidence on the great storehouse of
his memory. And much amusement we had, as you may suppose, in talking over the
different incidents, conversations, and traits of manners that had occurred at the last
hospitable fireside where we had mingled with the natives. Thus the minutes glided away
until my sketch was complete, and then we mounted again with fresh alacrity.
“These excursions derived an additional zest from the
uncertainty that often attended the issue of our proceedings; for, following the game
started by the dogs, our unfailing comrades, we frequently got entangled and bewildered
among the hills, until we had to trust to mere chance for the lodging of the night.
Adventures of this sort were quite to his taste, and the more for the perplexities
which on such occasions befell our attendant squires, mine a lanky Savoyard, his a
portly Scotch butler, both of them uncommonly
bad horsemen, and both equally sensitive about their personal dignity, which the
ruggedness of the ground often made it a matter of some difficulty for either of them
to maintain, but more especially for my poor foreigner, whose seat resembled that of a
pair of compasses astride. Scott’s heavy
lumbering beauffetier had provided himself
against the mountain showers with a huge cloak, which, when the
cavalcade were at gallop, streamed at full stretch from
his shoulders, and kept flapping in the other’s face, who, having more than
enough to do in preserving his own equilibrium, could not think of attempting at any
time to control the pace of his steed, and had no relief but fuming and pesting at the sacré manteau, in language happily unintelligible to its
wearer. Now and then some ditch or turf-fence rendered it indispensable to adventure on
a leap, and no farce could have been more amusing than the display of politeness which
then occurred between these worthy equestrians, each courteously declining in favour of
his friend the honour of the first experiment, the horses fretting impatient beneath
them, and the dogs clamouring encouragement. The horses generally terminated the
dispute by renouncing allegiance, and springing forward without waiting the pleasure of
the riders, who had to settle the matter with their saddles as they best could.
“One of our earliest expeditions was to visit the wild scenery
of the mountainous tract above Moffat, including the cascade of the ‘Grey
Mare’s Tail,’ and the dark tarn called ‘Loch Skene.’ In our
ascent to the lake we got completely bewildered in the thick fog which generally
envelopes the rugged features of that lonely region; and, as we were groping through
the maze of bogs, the ground gave way, and down went horse and horsemen pell-mell into
a slough of peaty mud and black water, out of which, entangled as we were with our
plaids and floundering nags, it was no easy matter to get extricated. Indeed, unless we
had prudently left our gallant steeds at a farm-house below, and borrowed hill ponies
for the occasion, the result might have been worse than laughable. As it was, we rose
like the spirits of the bog, covered cap-à-pie with slime, to free themselves from which, our wily
ponies took to
68 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
rolling about on the heather, and we had nothing
for it but following their example. At length as we approached the gloomy loch, a huge
eagle heaved himself from the margin and rose right over us, screaming his scorn of the
intruders; and altogether it would be impossible to picture any thing more desolately
savage than the scene which opened, as if raised by enchantment on purpose to gratify
the poet’s eye; thick folds of fog rolling incessantly over the face of the inky
waters, but rent asunder now in one direction, and then in another—so as to afford us a
glimpse of some projecting rock or naked point of land, or island bearing a few scraggy
stumps of pine—and then closing again in universal darkness upon the cheerless waste.
Much of the scenery of Old Mortality
was drawn from that day’s ride.
“It was also in the course of this excursion that we
encountered that amusing personage introduced into Guy Mannering as ‘Tod
Gabbie,’ though the appellation by which he was known in the
neighbourhood was ‘Tod Willie.’ He was one of those
itinerants who gain a subsistence among the moorland farmers by relieving them of
foxes, polecats, and the like depredators—a half-witted, stuttering, and most original
creature.
“Having explored all the wonders of Moffatdale, we turned
ourselves towards Blackhouse Tower, to visit Scott’s worthy acquaintances the Laidlaws, and
reached it after a long and intricate ride, having been again led off our course by the
greyhounds, who had been seduced by a strange dog that joined company, to engage in
full pursuit upon the tract of what we presumed to be either a fox or a roe-deer. The
chase was protracted and perplexing, from the mist that skirted the hill tops; but at
length we reached the scene of slaughter, and were much distressed to find that a
stately old he-goat had been the victim. He seemed to have fought a stout battle for
his life, but now lay mangled in the
midst of his panting enemies, who betrayed, on our approach, strong consciousness of
delinquency and apprehension of the lash, which was administered accordingly to soothe
the manes of the luckless Capricorn—though, after all, the dogs were not so much to
blame in mistaking his game flavour, since the fogs must have kept him out of view till
the last moment. Our visit to Blackhouse was highly interesting;—the excellent old
tenant being still in life, and the whole family group presenting a perfect picture of
innocent and simple happiness, while the animated, intelligent, and original
conversation of our friend William was quite
charming.
“Sir Adam Fergusson and
the Ettrick Shepherd were of the party that
explored Loch Skene and hunted the unfortunate he-goat.
“I need not tell you that Saint Mary’s Loch, and the Loch
of the Lowes, were among the most favourite scenes of our excursions, as his fondness
for them continued to his last days, and we have both visited them many times together
in his company. I may say the same of the Teviot, and the Aill, Borthwick-water, and
the lonely towers of Buccleuch and Harden, Minto, Roxburgh, Gilnockie, &c. I think
it was either in 1805 or 1806 that I first explored the Borthwick with him, when on our
way to pass a week at Langholm with Lord and
Lady Dalkeith, upon which occasion the
otter-hunt, so well described in Guy
Mannering, was got up by our noble host; and I can never forget the delight
with which Scott observed the enthusiasm of the
high-spirited yeomen, who had assembled in multitudes to partake the sport of their
dear young chief, well mounted, and dashing about from rock to rock with a reckless
ardour which recalled the alacrity of their forefathers in follow-
70 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
ing the Buccleuchs of former days through adventures of a more
serious order.
“Whatever the banks of the Tweed from its source to its
termination, presented of interest, we frequently visited; and I do verily believe
there is not a single ford in the whole course of that river which we have not
traversed together. He had an amazing fondness for fords, and was not a little
adventurous in plunging through, whatever might be the state of the flood, and this
even though there happened to be a bridge in view. If it seemed possible to scramble
through, he scorned to go ten yards about, and in fact preferred the ford; and it is to
be remarked, that most of the heroes of his tales seem to have been endued with similar
propensities—even the White Lady of Avenel delights
in the ford. He sometimes even attempted them on foot, though his lameness interfered
considerably with his progress among the slippery stones. Upon one occasion of this
sort I was assisting him through the Ettrick, and we had both got upon the same
tottering stone in the middle of the stream, when some story about a kelpie occurring
to him, he must needs stop and tell it with all his usual vivacity—and then, laughing
heartily at his own joke, he slipped his foot, or the stone shuffled beneath him, and
down he went headlong into the pool, pulling me after him. We escaped, however, with no
worse than a thorough drenching and the loss of his stick, which floated down the
river, and he was as ready as ever for a similar exploit before his clothes were half
dried upon his back.”
About this time Mr and Mrs Scott made
a short excursion to the Lakes of Cumberland and Westmoreland, and visited some of their
finest scenery, in company with Mr Wordsworth. I
have found no written nar-
| EXCURSION TO CUMBERLAND—1805. | 71 |
rative of
this little tour, but I have often heard Scott speak
with enthusiastic delight of the reception he met with in the humble cottage which his
brother poet then inhabited on the banks of Grasmere; and at least one of the days they
spent together was destined to furnish a theme for the verse of each, namely, that which
they gave to the ascent of Helvellyn, where, in the course of the preceding spring, a young
gentleman having lost his way and perished by falling over a precipice, his remains were
discovered, three months afterwards, still watched by “a faithful terrier-bitch,
his constant attendant during frequent rambles among the wilds.”* This day
they were accompanied by an illustrious philosopher, who was also a true poet and might
have been one of the greatest of poets had he chosen; and I have heard Mr
Wordsworth say, that it would be difficult to express the feelings with
which he, who so often had climbed Helvellyn alone, found himself standing on its summit
with two such men as Scott and Davy.
After leaving Mr Wordsworth,
Scott carried his wife to spend a few days at
Gilsland, among the scenes where they had first met; and his reception by the company at
the wells was such as to make him look back with something of regret, as well as of
satisfaction, to the change that had occurred in his circumstances since 1797. They were,
however, enjoying themselves much
* See notice prefixed to the song— “I climbed the dark brow of the mighty
Helvellyn,” &c., in Scott’s Poetical Works, edit. 1834, vol. i., 370; and compare the
lines, Inmate of a mountain dwelling, Thou hast clomb aloft, and gazed From the watch-towers of Helvellyn, Awed, delighted, and amazed,” &c. Wordsworth’s Poetical Works, 8vo. Edit. Vol. iii. p.
96. |
|
72 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
there, when he received intelligence which induced him to believe that
a French force was about to land in Scotland:—the alarm indeed had spread far and wide; and
a mighty gathering of volunteers, horse and foot, from the Lothians and the Border country,
took place in consequence at Dalkeith. He was not slow to obey the summons. He had luckily
chosen to accompany on horseback the carriage in which Mrs
Scott travelled. His good steed carried him to the spot of rendezvous, full
a hundred miles from Gilsland, within twenty-four hours; and on reaching it, though no
doubt to his disappointment the alarm had already blown over, he was delighted with the
general enthusiasm that had thus been put to the test—and, above all, by the rapidity with
which the yeomen of Ettrick forest had poured down from their glens, under the guidance of
his good friend and neighbour, Mr Pringle of
Torwoodlee. These fine fellows were quartered along with the Edinburgh troop
when he reached Dalkeith and Musselburgh; and after some sham battling, and a few evenings
of high jollity had crowned the needless muster of the beacon-fires,* he immediately turned
his horse again towards the south, and rejoined Mrs Scott at Carlisle.
By the way, it was during his fiery ride from Gilsland to Dalkeith, on
the occasion above mentioned, that he composed his Bard’s Incantation, first published six years afterwards in the Edinburgh Annual Register:—
“The forest of Glenmore is drear, It is all of black pine and the dark oak-tree,” &c.— |
and the verses bear the full stamp of the feelings of the moment.
Shortly after he was re-established at Ashestiel, he was visited there
by Mr Southey; this being, I believe,
* See Note “Alarm of Invasion,” Antiquary, vol. ii. p. 338. |
| ALARM OF INVASION—1805. | 73 |
their first meeting. It is alluded to in
the following letter; a letter highly characteristic in more respects than one.
To George Ellis, Esq. Sunninghill.
“Ashestiel, 17th October, 1805.
“More than a month has glided away in this busy
solitude, and yet I have never sat down to answer your kind letter. I have only
to plead a horror of pen and ink with which this country, in fine weather (and
ours has been most beautiful) regularly affects me. In recompense, I ride,
walk, fish, course, eat and drink, with might and main from morning to night. I
could have wished sincerely you had come to Reged this year to partake her
rural amusements;—the only comfort I have is, that your visit would have been
over, and now I look forward to it as a pleasure to come. I shall be infinitely
obliged to you for your advice and assistance in the course of Dryden. I fear little can be
procured for a Life beyond what Malone
has compiled, but certainly his facts may be rather better told and arranged. I
am at present busy with the dramatic department. This undertaking will make my
being in London in spring a matter of absolute necessity.
“And now let me tell you of a discovery which I have
made, or rather which Robert Jameson has
made, in copying the MS. of ‘True Thomas and the Queen
of Elfland,’ in the Lincoln cathedral. The queen at parting,
bestows the gifts of harping and carping upon the prophet, and mark his reply—
‘To harp and carp, Tomas, where so ever ye gen— Tomas, take thou these with thee.’— ‘Harping,’ he said, ‘ken I nane, For Tong is chefe of mynstrelsie.’ |
74 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
If poor
Ritson
could contradict his own system of materialism by rising from the grave to peep
into this MS., he would slink back again in dudgeon and dismay. There certainly
cannot be more respectable testimony than that of True
Thomas, and you see he describes the tongue or recitation as the
principal, or at least the most dignified, part of a minstrel’s
profession.
“Another curiosity was brought here a few days ago by
Mr Southey the poet, who favoured me
with a visit on his way to Edinburgh. It was a MS. containing sundry metrical
romances, and other poetical compositions, in the northern dialect, apparently
written about the middle of the 15th century. I had not time to make an
analysis of its contents, but some of them seem highly valuable. There is a
tale of Sir Gowther, said to be a Breton Lay,
which partly resembles the history of Robert the
Devil, the hero being begot in the same way; and partly that of
Robert of Sicily, the penance imposed on
Sir Gowther being the same, as he kept
table with the hounds, and was discovered by a dumb lady to be the stranger
knight who had assisted her father the emperor in his wars. There is also a MS.
of Sir Isanbras; item a poem called Sir Amadas not Amadis of
Gaul, but a courteous knight who, being reduced to poverty, travels to
conceal his distress, and gives the wreck of his fortune to purchase the rites
of burial for a deceased knight, who had been refused them by the obduracy of
his creditors. The rest of the story is the same with that of Jean de Calais, in the Bibliothèque Bleue, and with a vulgar
ballad called the Factor’s Garland. Moreover
there is a merry tale of hunting a hare, as performed by a set of country
clowns, with their mastiffs, and curs with ‘short legs and never a
tail.’ The disgraces and blunders of these ignorant sportsmen
must have afforded infinite mirth at the table of a feudal baron,
prizing himself on his knowledge of
the mysteries of the chase performed by these unauthorized intruders. There is
also a burlesque sermon, which informs us of Peter and
Adam journeying together to Babylon, and how
Peter asked Adam
a full great doubtful question, saying,
‘Adam, Adam, why
did’st thou eat the apple unpared?’ This book belongs to a
lady. I would have given something valuable to have had a week of it.
Southey commissioned me to say that he intended to
take extracts from it, and should be happy to copy, or cause to be copied, any
part that you might wish to be possessed of; an offer which I heartily
recommend to your early consideration. Where dwelleth
Heber the magnificent, whose library and
cellar* are so superior to all others in the world? I wish to write to him
about
Dryden. Any word lately from
Jamaica? Yours truly, W. S.”
Mr Ellis, in his answer, says, “Heber will, I dare say, be of service to you in your
present undertaking, if indeed you want any assistance, which I very much doubt; because it
appears to me that the best edition, which could now be given of Dryden, would be one which should unite accuracy of text
and a handsome appearance, with good critical notes. Quoad Malone—I should think
Ritson himself, could he rise from the dead,
would be puzzled to sift out a single additional anecdote of the poet’s life; but to
abridge Malone,—and to render his narrative terse, elegant, and
intelligible, would be a great obligation conferred on the purchasers (I will not say the
readers, because I have
* Ellis had mentioned, in
a recent letter, Heber’s buying wines
to the value of L.1100 at some sale he happened to attend this autumn. |
76 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
doubts whether they exist in the plural number) of his very laborious
compilation. The late Dr Warton, you may have heard,
had a project of editing Dryden à
la Hurd; that is to say,
upon the same principle as the castrated
edition of Cowley. His reason was that Dryden, having
written for bread, became of necessity a most voluminous author, and poured forth more
nonsense of indecency, particularly in his theatrical compositions, than almost any
scribbler in that scribbling age. Hence, although his transcendent genius frequently breaks
out, and marks the hand of the master, his comedies seem, by a tacit but general consent,
to have been condemned to oblivion; and his tragedies, being printed in such bad company,
have shared the same fate. But Dr W. conceived that, by a judicious
selection of these, together with his fables and prose works, it would be possible to
exhibit him in a much more advantageous light than by a republication of the whole mass of
his writings. Whether the Doctor (who, by the way, was by no means scrupulously chaste and
delicate, as you will be aware from his edition of Pope) had taken a just view of the subject, you know better than I;
but I must own that the announcement of a general edition of Dryden
gave me some little alarm. However, if you can suggest the sort of assistance you are
desirous of receiving, I shall be happy to do what I can to promote your views. . . . . . .
And so you are not disposed to nibble at the bait I throw out!
Nothing but ‘a decent edition of Hollinshed?’ I confess that my project chiefly related to the
later historical works respecting this country—to the union of Gall,
Twisden, Camden, Leibnitz, &c. &c.,
leaving the Chronicles, properly so called, to shift for themselves. . . . . . . I am
ignorant when you are to be in Edinburgh, and in that ignorance have not desired Blackburn, who is now at Glasgow, to call on you. He has the best practical understanding I have ever
met with, and I vouch that you would be much pleased with his acquaintance. And so for the
present God bless you. G. E.”
Scott’s letter in reply opens thus:
“I will not castrate John Dryden.
I would as soon castrate my own father, as I believe Jupiter did of yore. What would you say to any man who would
castrate Shakspeare, or Massinger, or Beaumont and Fletcher? I
don’t say but that it may be very proper to select correct passages for
the use of boarding-schools and colleges, being sensible no improper ideas can
be suggested in these seminaries, unless they are intruded or smuggled under
the beards and ruffs of our old dramatists. But in making an edition of a man
of genius’s works for libraries and collections, and such I conceive a
complete edition of Dryden to be, I must give my author as
I find him, and will not tear out the page, even to get rid of the blot, little
as I like it. Are not the pages of Swift, and even of Pope,
larded with indecency, and often of the most disgusting kind, and do we not see
them upon all shelves and dressing-tables, and in all boudoirs? Is not
Prior the most indecent of
tale-tellers, not even excepting La
Fontaine, and how often do we see his works in female hands? In
fact, it is not passages of ludicrous indelicacy that corrupt the manners of a
people—it is the sonnets which a prurient genius like Master Little sings virginibus putrisque—it is the sentimental slang, half
lewd, half methodistic, that debauches the understanding, inflames the sleeping
passions, and prepares the reader to give way as soon as a tempter appears. At
the same time, I am not at all happy when I peruse some of
Dryden’s comedies: they are very stupid, as well
as indelicate; sometimes, however, there is a con-
78 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
siderable
vein of liveliness and humour, and all of them present extraordinary pictures
of the age in which he lived. My critical notes will not be very numerous, but
I hope to illustrate the political poems, as
Absalom and Achitophel,
the Hind and Panther, &c. with some
curious annotations. I have already made a complete search among some hundred
pamphlets of that pamphlet-writing age, and with considerable success, as I
have found several which throw light on my author. I am told that I am to be
formidably opposed by
Mr Crowe, the
Professor of Poetry at Oxford, who is also threatening an edition of
Dryden. I don’t know whether to be most vexed
that some one had not undertaken the task sooner, or that Mr
Crowe is disposed to attempt it at the same time with me;
however, I now stand committed, and will not be
crowed
over, if I can help it. The third edition of the
Lay is now in the press, of which I hope you will
accept a copy, as it contains some trifling improvements or additions. They
are, however, very trifling.
“I have written a long letter to Rees, recommending an edition of our
historians, both Latin and English; but I have great hesitation whether to
undertake much of it myself. What I can I certainly will do; but I should feel
particularly delighted if you would join forces with me, when I think we might
do the business to purpose. Do, Lord love you, think of this grande opus.
“I have not been so fortunate as to hear of Mr Blackburn. I am afraid poor Daniel has been very idly
employed—Cælum non
animum. I am glad you still retain the purpose of visiting
Reged. If you live on mutton and game, we can feast you; for, as one wittily
said, I am not the hare with many friends, but the friend with many hares.—W.
S.”
Mr Ellis, in his next letter, says:—“I will
not disturb you by contesting any part of your ingenious apology for your intended
complete edition of Dryden, whose genius
I venerate as much as you do, and whose negligences, as he was not rich enough to doom
them to oblivion in his own lifetime, it is perhaps incumbent on his editor to transmit
to the latest posterity. Most certainly I am not so squeamish as to quarrel with him
for his immodesty on any moral pretence. Licentiousness in writing, when accompanied by
wit, as in the case of Prior, La Fontaine, &c., is never likely to excite any
passion, because every passion is serious; and the grave epistle of Eloisa is more likely to do moral
mischief and convey infection to love-sick damsels, than five hundred stories of Hans Carvel and Paulo Purgante; but whatever is in point of
expression vulgar—whatever disgusts the taste—whatever might have been written by any
fool, and is therefore unworthy of Dryden—whatever might have been suppressed, without exciting a
moment’s regret in the mind of any of his admirers—ought, in my opinion, to be
suppressed by any editor who should be disposed to make an appeal to the public taste
upon the subject; because a man who was perhaps the best poet and best prose writer in
the language—but it is foolish to say so much, after promising to say nothing. Indeed I
own myself guilty of possessing all his works in a very
indifferent edition, and I shall certainly purchase a better one whenever you put it in
my power. With regard to your competitors, I feel perfectly at my ease, because I am
convinced that though you should generously furnish them with all the materials, they
would not know how to use them: non cuivis hominum
contingit to write critical notes that any one will
read.” Alluding to the regret which Scott had
expressed some time before at the shortness of his visit
80 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
to the
libraries of Oxford, Ellis says, in another of these
letters—“A library is like a butcher’s shop: it contains plenty of meat,
but it is all raw; no person living—(Leyden’s breakfast was only a tour de
force to astonish Ritson,
and I except the Abyssinians, whom I never saw)—can find a meal in it, till some good
cook (suppose yourself) comes in and says, ‘Sir, I see by your looks that you are
hungry; I know your taste—be patient for a moment, and you shall be satisfied that you
have an excellent appetite.’”
I shall not transcribe the mass of letters which Scott received from various other literary friends whose assistance he
invoked in the preparation of his edition of
Dryden; but among them there occurs one so admirable, that I cannot refuse
myself the pleasure of introducing it, more especially as the views which it opens
harmonize as remarkably with some, as they differ from others, of those which
Scott himself ultimately expressed respecting the poetical
character of his illustrious author.
“Patterdale, Nov. 7, 1805.
. . . “I was much pleased to hear of your engagement
with Dryden: not that he is, as a poet,
any great favourite of mine: I admire his talents and genius highly, but his is
not a poetical genius. The only qualities I can find in
Dryden that are essentially
poetical, are a certain ardour and impetuosity of mind, with an excellent ear.
It may seem strange that I do not add to this, great command of language: That he certainly has, and of such language, too, as it
is most desirable that a poet should possess, or rather that he should not be
without. But it is not language that is, in the highest sense of the word,
poetical, being neither of the imagi-
nation nor of the passions; I mean the amiable, the ennobling, or the intense
passions. I do not mean to say that there is nothing of this in
Dryden, but as little, I think, as is possible,
considering how much he has written. You will easily understand my meaning,
when I refer to his versification of
Palamon and Arcite, as contrasted with the
language of
Chaucer.
Dryden had neither a tender heart nor a lofty sense of
moral dignity. Whenever his language is poetically impassioned, it is mostly
upon unpleasing subjects, such as the follies, vices, and crimes of classes of
men or of individuals. That his cannot be the language of imagination, must
have necessarily followed from this, that there is not a single image from
nature in the whole body of his works; and in his translation from
Virgil, wherever Virgil can
be fairly said to have had his eye upon his object, Dryden
always spoils the passage.
“But too much of this; I am glad that you are to be
his editor. His political and satirical pieces may be greatly benefited by
illustration, and even absolutely require it. A correct text is the first
object of an editor—then such notes as explain difficult or obscure passages;
and lastly, which is much less important, notes pointing out authors to whom
the poet has been indebted, not in the fiddling way of phrase here and phrase
there—(which is detestable as a general practice)—but where he has had
essential obligations either as to matter or manner.
“If I can be of any use to you, do not fail to apply
to me. One thing I may take the liberty to suggest, which is, when you come to
the fables, might it not be
advisable to print the whole of the tales of Boccace in a smaller type in the original language? If this
should look too much like swelling a book, I should certainly make such
extracts as would show where Dryden has
most strikingly improved upon, or fallen below, his ori-
82 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
ginal. I think his translations from Boccace are the
best, at least the most poetical, of his poems. It is many years since I saw
Boccace, but I remember that Sigismunda is not married by him to Guiscard (the names are different in
Boccace in both tales, I believe certainly in
Theodore, &c.) I think
Dryden has much injured the story by the marriage, and
degraded Sigismunda’s character by
it. He has also, to the best of my remembrance, degraded her still more by
making her love absolute sensuality and appetite; Dryden
had no other notion of the passion. With all these defects, and they are very
gross ones, it is a noble poem. Guiscard’s answer, when first reproached by Tancred, is noble in Boccace
nothing but this:
Amor può molto più
che ne voi ne io possiamo. This,
Dryden has spoiled. He says first very well,
‘the faults of love by love are justified,’ and then
come four lines of miserable rant, quite
à
la Maximin. Farewell, and believe me ever your
affectionate friend,
Alexander the Great (356 BC-323 BC)
Macedonian conqueror; the son of Philip II, he was king of Macedon, 336-323 BC.
Alexander Arbuthnet (d. 1585)
Edinburgh printer who issued Buchanan's
Rerum Scoticarum historia
(1582) in twenty books.
James Ballantyne (1772-1833)
Edinburgh printer in partnership with his younger brother John; the company failed in the
financial collapse of 1826.
John Barbour (1330 c.-1395)
Scottish clergyman and poet, author of
The Bruce.
Sir John Beaumont, first baronet (1584 c.-1627)
English poet and friend of Michael Drayton; his verse circulated in manuscript though his
major poem,
Bosworth Field was posthumously printed in 1629.
John Blackburn (1756-1840)
Glasgow merchant in the West India trade; he was a mutual friend of Walter Scott and
George Ellis.
Thomas Blacklock (1721-1791)
Blind Scottish poet and clergyman; early in life his cause was taken up by David Hume and
Joseph Spence; later in life he befriended Robert Burns and Walter Scott. His life was
written by Henry Mackenzie.
James Bruce of Kinnaird (1730-1794)
Scottish traveler in Africa; he was the author of
Travels to Discover
the Source of the Nile, 5 vols (1790).
Thomas Cadell the younger (1773-1836)
London bookseller, son of his better-known father; the younger Cadell entered into
partnership with William Davies in 1793. In 1802 he married Sophia Smith, sister of James
and Horace Smith of the
Rejected Addresses.
William Camden (1551-1623)
English antiquary, author of
Britannia (1586), a Latin history of
Britain; he founded a professorship of history at Oxford.
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).
Alexander Chalmers (1759-1834)
Scottish-born man of letters; educated at Marischal College, he produced editions of the
British Essayists (1802-1803), the
English
Poets (1810), and compiled the
General Biographical
Dictionary (1812-1817).
Geoffrey Chaucer (1340 c.-1400)
English Poet, the author of
The Canterbury Tales (1390 c.).
Archibald Constable (1774-1827)
Edinburgh bookseller who published the
Edinburgh Review and works
of Sir Walter Scott; he went bankrupt in 1826.
William Crowe (1745-1829)
English poet educated at Winchester and New College Oxford; he was rector of Alton
Barnes, Wiltshire; he is remember for his descriptive poem
Lewesdon
Hill (1788). He corresponded with Samuel Rogers.
William Davies (d. 1820)
London bookseller who was assistant to the elder Thomas Cadell and partner of the
younger; he retired from the trade in 1813.
Sir Humphry Davy, baronet (1778-1829)
English chemist and physicist, inventor of the safety lamp; in Bristol he knew Cottle,
Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey; he was president of the Royal Society (1820).
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).
Henry Dundas, first viscount Melville (1742-1811)
Scottish politician, president of the board of control (1793-1801), secretary of war
(1794-1801); first lord of the Admiralty (1804-05).
Anne Ellis [née Parker] (1773 c.-1862)
The daughter of Admiral Sir Peter Parker; in 1800 she married the antiquary George Ellis
of Sunninghill.
George Ellis (1753-1815)
English antiquary and critic, editor of
Specimens of Early English
Poets (1790), friend of Walter Scott.
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.
Sir Adam Ferguson (1771-1855)
Son of the philosopher and classmate and friend of Sir Walter Scott; he served in the
Peninsular Campaign under Wellington, afterwards living on his estate in
Dumfriesshire.
John Fletcher (1579-1625)
English playwright, author of
The Faithful Shepherdess (1610) and
of some fifteen plays in collaboration with Francis Beaumont.
Edward Forster (1769-1828)
Clergyman and writer, educated under Samuel Parr; he was a popular London preacher who
was elected FRS and FSA. He produced illustrated volumes of classics and published
anonymously
Occasional Amusements (1809).
Charles James Fox (1749-1806)
Whig statesman and the leader of the Whig opposition in Parliament after his falling-out
with Edmund Burke.
Edward Gibbon (1737-1794)
Author of
The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire
(1776-1788).
William Godwin (1756-1836)
English novelist and political philosopher; author of
An Inquiry
concerning the Principles of Political Justice (1793) and
Caleb
Williams (1794); in 1797 he married Mary Wollstonecraft.
Richard Heber (1774-1833)
English book collector, he was the elder half-brother of the poet Reginald Heber and the
friend of Walter Scott: member of the Roxburghe Club and MP for Oxford 1821-1826.
James Hogg [The Ettrick Shepherd] (1770-1835)
Scottish autodidact, poet, and novelist; author of
The Queen's
Wake (1813) and
Private Memoirs and Confessions of a Justified
Sinner (1824).
Raphael Holinshed (1525 c.-1580 c.)
English historian; published
Chronicles of England, Scotland, and
Ireland (1577), the source for several of Shakespeare's history plays.
Homer (850 BC fl.)
Poet of the
Iliad and
Odyssey.
Richard Hurd, bishop of Worcester (1720-1808)
Bishop of Worcester (1781) and highly-regarded scholar-critic; editor of Horace's
Ars Poetica (1749), author of
Moral and Political
Dialogues (1759), and
Letters on Chivalry and Romance
(1762). He was the friend and editor of Bishop William Warburton.
Robert Jamieson (1772-1844)
Scottish schoolmaster and antiquary educated at King's College Aberdeen; an associate of
Walter Scott, he published
Popular Ballads and Songs, from Tradition,
Manuscript, and Scarce Editions, 2 vols (1806).
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.
Thomas Johnes (1748-1816)
Educated at Eton, Shrewsbury, and Edinburgh University, he was an agricultural improver
and translator of medieval French; Richard Payne Knight was his cousin.
Ben Jonson (1572-1637)
English dramatist, critic, and epigrammatist, friend of William Shakespeare and John
Donne.
Jean de La Fontaine (1621-1695)
French poet whose
Fables were first translated into English in
1734.
William Laidlaw (1779-1845)
The early friend of James Hogg and Sir Walter Scott's steward and amanuensis.
Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibnitz (1646-1716)
German philosopher and mathematician; author of
Monadology (1714)
and
Principles of Nature and Grace (1714).
John Leyden (1775-1811)
Scottish antiquary, poet, and orientalist who assisted Walter Scott in compiling the
Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.
Thomas Norton Longman (1771-1842)
A leading London publisher whose authors included Southey, Wordsworth, Scott, and
Moore.
James M'Beith (1818 fl.)
Walter Scott's servant, who became insane in 1818.
Sir James Mackintosh (1765-1832)
Scottish philosopher and man of letters who defended the French Revolution in
Vindiciae Gallicae (1791); he was Recorder of Bombay (1803-1812) and
MP for Knaresborough (1819-32).
James Macpherson (1736-1796)
Scottish poet who attributed his adaptations of Gaelic poetry to the blind bard Ossian;
author of the prose epics
Fingal (1761) and
Temora (1763).
Edmond Malone (1741-1812)
Irish literary scholar; member of Johnson's Literary Club (1782); edited the Works of
Shakespeare (1790) and left substantial materials for the notable variorum Shakespeare, 21
vols (1821).
Philip Massinger (1583-1649)
Jacobean playwright; author of
A New Way to Pay Old Debts (1625);
his works were edited by William Gifford (1805, 1813).
Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
Irish poet and biographer, author of the
Irish Melodies (1807-34),
The Fudge Family in Paris (1818), and
Lalla
Rookh (1817); he was Byron's close friend and designated biographer.
Ossian (250 fl.)
Legendary blind bard of Gaelic story to whom James Macpherson attributed his poems
Fingal and
Temora.
Mungo Park (1771-1806)
Scottish explorer who published
Travels in the interior Districts of
Africa (1799).
Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
English poet and satirist; author of
The Rape of the Lock (1714)
and
The Dunciad (1728).
James Pringle of Torwoodlee (d. 1840)
The friend and neighbor of Walter Scott; he was educated at Cambridge and Leyden,
succeeded his uncle as laird in 1780, and was vice-lieutenant of Selkirkshire.
Matthew Prior (1664-1721)
English poet and statesman successful in both comic and serious verse collected in
Poems on Several Occasions (1718).
Owen Rees (1770-1837)
London bookseller; he was the partner of Thomas Norton Longman and friend of the poet
Thomas Moore.
Joseph Ritson (1752-1803)
English antiquary and editor remembered as much for his quarrelsome temperament as for
his contributions to literary history.
Daniel Scott (1776 c.-1806)
The dissolute younger brother of Sir Walter Scott who emigrated to Jamaica in
1804.
Thomas Scott (1774-1823)
The younger brother of Walter Scott rumored to have written
Waverley; after working in the family legal business he was an officer in the
Manx Fencibles (1806-10) and Paymaster of the 70th Foot (1812-14). He died in
Canada.
Anna Seward [the Swan of Lichfield] (1742-1809)
English poet, patron, and letter-writer; she was the center of a literary circle at
Lichfield. Her
Poetical Works, 3 vols (1810) were edited by Walter
Scott.
James Skene of Rubislaw (1775-1864)
A life-long friend of Sir Walter Scott, who dedicated a canto of
Marmion to him.
John Somers, baron Somers (1651-1716)
Whig politician, member of the Kit-Kat Club, friend of Addison, Steele, and Swift; he was
lord chancellor (1697).
Robert Southey (1774-1843)
Poet laureate and man of letters whose contemporary reputation depended upon his prose
works, among them the
Life of Nelson, 2 vols (1813),
History of the Peninsular War, 3 vols (1823-32) and
The Doctor, 7 vols (1834-47).
Edmund Spenser (1552 c.-1599)
English poet, author of
The Shepheards Calender (1579) and
The Faerie Queene (1590, 1596).
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).
Thomas of Erceldoune (1220 c.-1297 c.)
Scottish poet and prophet; author (or supposed author) of the romance,
Sir Tristrem.
James Thomson (1700-1748)
Anglo-Scottish poet and playwright; while his descriptive poem,
The
Seasons (1726-30), was perhaps the most popular poem of the eighteenth century,
the poets tended to admire more his Spenserian burlesque,
The Castle of
Indolence (1748).
Thomas Thomson (1768-1852)
Scottish lawyer and man of letters; he was one of the projectors of the
Edinburgh Review and succeeded Sir Walter Scott as president of the Bannatyne
Club (1832-52).
Thomas Thomson (1773-1852)
Friend of James Mill and professor of chemistry at the University of Glasgow; he
contributed to the
Quarterly Review.
Thomas Thornton (1752-1823)
Sportsman, reviver of falconry, and dissolute character; he spent his latter years living
in France.
Virgil (70 BC-19 BC)
Roman epic poet; author of
Eclogues,
Georgics, and the
Aenead.
Joseph Warton (1722-1800)
English poet and literary critic; headmaster of Winchester School (1766-1800); author of
An Essay on the Writings and Genius of Pope (1756, 1782).
William Wordsworth (1770-1850)
With Coleridge, author of
Lyrical Ballads (1798), Wordsworth
survived his early unpopularity to succeed Robert Southey as poet laureate in 1843.
John Barbour (1330 c.-1395)
The Bruce. (1375). Barbour's early Scots poem on Robert the Bruce was printed several times in the
eighteenth century, including a 1790 volume edited by John Pinkerton.
Robert Southey (1774-1843)
Madoc. (London: Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme, 1805). A verse romance relating the legendary adventures of a Welsh prince in Wales and
pre-Columbian America.
Thomas Thornton (1752-1823)
A Sporting Tour through various parts of France, in the year 1802, including a
concise Description of the Sporting Establishments, Mode of Hunting, and other
Field-amusements, as practised in that Country, with General Observations on the Arts,
Sciences, Agriculture, Husbandry, and Commerce, Strictures on the Customs and Manners of
the French People, with a View of the Comparative Advantages of Sporting in France and
England, in a Series of Letters to the Right Hon. the Earl of Darlington. 2 vols (London: Longman, Hurst, Rees and Orme, 1806).