CHAPTER XLIVJohn Murray—Share inMarmion—Reverence for Scott—The Quarterly Review—The 'Cevallos' Article—Jeffrey's Pessimism—Contemplated Flight to America—Anecdotes of Earl of Buchan.When Constable had concluded his arrangement with Scott, he followed a usual and prudent practice in offering fourth shares of the adventure to two other booksellers. They agreed, and their reply added, 'We both view it as honourable, profitable, and glorious to be concerned in the publication of a new poem by Walter Scott.' The writer of these words was John Murray, of Fleet Street, a young bookseller already of some note. Murray, as a keen business man, had evidently an eye to see and a mind that could grasp the future. He was aware that theEdinburgh Reviewwas the great source and support of Constable's fortunes. Knowing also that Scott, though a Tory, was an important contributor to theReview, ne seems to have been on the watch for the time when, as he acutely anticipated, some occasion of rupture would emerge. He told Lockhart long after that when he read the review ofMarmionand the political article in the same number, he said to himself—'Walter Scott has feelings both as a gentleman and a Tory, which these people must now have wounded; the alliance between him and the whole clique of theReview, its proprietor included, is now shaken.' With the same sagacity, he pushed his advances towards Scott by the medium of James Ballantyne. Murray came north in person, visited Scott at Ashestiel, and learned that, as he had expected, the disruption had begun. Scott had, in fact, been so disgusted with an article in the twenty-sixth number entitled 'Don Cevallos on the Usurpation of Spain,' that he had written to Constable withdrawing his subscription and saying, 'TheEdinburgh Reviewhad become such as to render it impossible for me to continue a contributor to it.—Now, it is such as I can no longer continue to receive or read it.' Mr. Cadell, one of Constable's partners, mentions that the list of the then subscribers exhibits, in an indignant dash of Constable's pen opposite Scott's name, the word 'STOPT!!!' The opportunity was a good one for advancing Murray's views. Before the end of the year some unguarded words of Mr. Hunter, Constable's junior partner, made the breach complete. We find Scott writing about 'folks who learn to undervalue the means by which they have risen,' and Constable stamping his foot and saying, 'Ay, there is such a thing as rearing the oak until it can support itself.' The result of all this, as concerns Scott, was that he eagerly entered into Murray's plans for establishing a rivalReview, and that he carried out a scheme, 'begun' (Lockhart admits) 'in the short-sighted heat of pique,' of starting a new bookselling house in Edinburgh, another rival to Constable.Murray's newReviewwas theQuarterly. The first number came out in February 1809, and was quite sufficient to prove that theEdinburghwas now to have a powerful competitor, and Jeffrey to find in Gifford a 'foeman worthy of his steel.' The idea of theQuarterlywas precisely that which had guided the projectors of its rival, 'to be conducted totally independent of bookselling influence, on a plan as liberal as that of theEdinburgh, its literature as well supported, and its principles English and constitutional.' A great deal was, naturally enough, said at the time about the political excesses of theEdinburgh Reviewas having caused the introduction of theQuarterly. But there was no need to justify it on such grounds. Lord Cockburn in hisLifeof Jeffrey sums up the argument with equal fairness and good sense when he says, 'It was not this solitary article' (the 'Cevallos') 'that produced the rival journal. Unless the public tone and doctrines (of theEdinburgh Review) had been positively reversed, or party politics altogether excluded, a periodical work in defence of Church, Tory, and War principles, must have arisen; simply because the defence of these principles required it. The defence was a consequence of the attack. And it is fortunate that it was so. For besides getting these opinions fairly discussed, the party excesses natural to any unchecked publication were diminished; and a work arose which, in many respects, is an honour to British literature, and has called out, and indirectly reared, a great variety of the highest order of talent.'Jeffrey himself, in writing to Horner for opinions of the newQuarterly, disavows with creditable spirit any unworthy jealousy or fear. He recognises the merit of the work, 'inspired, compared with the poor prattle of Cumberland,' and admits that his 'natural indolence would have been better pleased not to be always in sight of an alert and keen antagonist.' But at the same time he rejoices in the idea of seeing magazine literature improved, and congratulates himself on having set the example.Lord Cockburn expressly states that Jeffrey was himself the writer of the unfortunate Cevallos article. It is curious and interesting, but not so very surprising, to find an earnest and far-seeing man like Jeffrey taking so despondent a view of British prospects in the Peninsula. It must be remembered that the great burst of enthusiasm in this country over the national rising of Spain against Napoleon was really, as every one now knows, founded upon ignorance and exaggeration. It was Jeffrey's chief crime that he ventured to doubt the patriotism and efficiency of the Spaniards. He could not, of course, foresee what the genius of Wellington was to effect, and he undoubtedly expected that Napoleon would enter Ireland soon; 'and then' (he asks) 'how is England to be kept?' Looking upon the conquest of the whole continent by France as a practical certainty, he was for peace at any price, and non-interference whatever happened elsewhere. It was his intention when the catastrophe came, to try to go to America. 'I hate despotism and insolence so much, that I could bear a great deal rather than live here under Frenchmen and such wretches as will at first be employed by them.'Such cold fears and calculations were apt to make his writings distasteful in those excited times. The Cevallos article, in which he flatly expressed despair of the vaunted 'regeneration' of Spain, capped the whole. About twenty-five 'persons of consideration' in Edinburgh forbade theReviewto enter their doors. The Earl of Buchan, a rather vain and foolish character at the best, did more. He ordered the door of his house in George Street to be set wide open, and the offending number to be laid down on the lobby floor. Then, when all was ready, his lordship solemnly kicked the volume out into the street.In Scott'sJournal, April 20, 1829, the death of this eccentric person is noticed: 'Lord Buchan is dead, a person whose immense vanity, bordering upon insanity, obscured, or rather eclipsed, very considerable talents.... I felt something at parting with this old man, though but a trumpery body. He gave me the first approbation I ever obtained from a stranger. His caprice had led him to examine Dr. Adam's class when I, a boy twelve years old, and then in disgrace for some aggravated case of negligence, was called up from a low bench, and recited my lesson with some spirit and appearance of feeling the poetry (it was the apparition of Hector's ghost in theAeneid) amid the noble Earl's applause. I was very proud of this at the time.'CHAPTER XLVThe Calton Jail—Opening of Waterloo Place—Removal of Old Tolbooth—Scott purchases Land at Abbotsford—Professional Income—Correspondence with Byron—Anecdote of the 'Flitting' from Ashestiel.In 1808-10 the new prison on the Calton Hill was built. It stands on a magnificent site, the old 'Doo Craig.' All will agree with Lord Cockburn's remark on the 'undoubted bad taste' of devoting that glorious eminence, which ought to have had one of our noblest buildings, to a jail. The east end of Princes Street was at that time closed in by a line of mean houses running north and south. Beyond this all to the east was occupied by the burying-ground, of which the south portion is still maintained. The only access to the hill on this side was to go down to the foot of Leith Street, and then climb 'the steep, narrow, stinking, spiral street still to be seen there.' The necessity for an easy access to the jail led to the construction of Waterloo Bridge. The blocking houses were, of course, removed, and a level road carried along to the Calton Hill. 'The effect,' says the author of theMemorials, 'was like the drawing up of the curtain in a theatre. But the bridge would never have been where it is except for the jail. The lieges were taxed for the prison; and luckily few of them were aware that they were also taxed for the bridge as the prison's access. In all this magnificent improvement, which in truth gave us the hill and all its decoration, there was scarcely one particle of prospective taste. The houses alongside the bridge were made handsome by the speculators for their own interest; but the general effect of the new level opening into Princes Street, and its consequences, were planned or foreseen by nobody.'In a few years after the erection of the Calton Jail, the Old Tolbooth, the 'Heart of Midlothian,' was removed. Had it been preserved, it would have been the prize relic of historical antiquity in Scotland. 'Was it not for many years the place in which the Scottish parliament met? Was it not James's place of refuge, when the mob, inflamed by a seditious preacher, broke forth on him with the cries of "The sword of the Lord and of Gideon—bring forth the wicked Haman"?' It stood, 'as is well known to all men,' near the Cathedral, in the very middle of the High Street, and the purpose of widening the street and opening up the Cathedral was the excuse for its demolition. Scott describes it as 'antique in form, gloomy and haggard in aspect, its black stanchioned windows opening through its dingy walls like the apertures of a hearse.' Cockburn speaks of it as a most atrocious jail, the very breath of which almost struck down any stranger who entered its dismal door; and as ill-placed as possible, without one inch of ground beyond its black and horrid walls. And these walls were very small; the entire hole being filled with little dark cells; heavy manacles the only security; airless, waterless, drainless; a living grave. But yet I wish the building had been spared.' The only memorial of it now is a heart in the street formed of particoloured stones, showing where the door of the prison stood. At Abbotsford may be seen, decorating the entrance of the kitchen court, the stones of the old gateway, and also the door itself with its ponderous fastenings.In the summer of 1811 Scott made his first purchase of land at Abbotsford. The name was taken from a ford in the Tweed just above the influx of Gala Water. The whole of the lands round there had at one time belonged to the Abbey of Melrose. The property had sunk into a state of great neglect under an absentee owner. The land was neither drained, properly enclosed, nor even fully reclaimed. The house was small, with a kailyard at one end and a barn at the other. But Scott in his mind's eye already saw it all as he intended it to be. With boyish delight in the prospect of realising his one innocent ambition, he writes to his brother-in-law: 'I have bought a property extending along the banks of the River Tweed for about half a mile. This is the greatest incident which has lately taken place in our domestic concerns, and I assure you we are not a little proud of being greeted aslairdandlady of Abbotsford. We will give a grand gala when we take possession of it, and as we are very clannish in this corner, all the Scotts in the country, from the Duke to the peasant, shall dance on the green to the bagpipes, and drink whisky punch.'At the beginning of the next year, January 1812, Scott came into his salary as Clerk of Session. He had now a professional income of £1600 a year. Why, then, was he not to buy land and become a laird?In this year began that correspondence with Byron which connects so pleasantly the names of the two most popular poets of the day. In one letter he mentions that he was staying in the gardener's hut at Abbotsford. Alterations were going on apace, and besides raising the roof and projecting some of the lower windows, a rustic porch, a supplemental cottage at one end, and a fountain to the south, soon made their appearance. Here is the 'laird's' amusing account of his 'flitting' from Ashestiel: 'The neighbours have been much delighted with the procession of my furniture, in which old swords, bows, targets, and lances made a very conspicuous show. A family of turkeys was accommodated within the helmet of somepreuxchevalier of ancient border fame; and the very cows, for aught I know, were bearing banners and muskets. I assure your ladyship that this caravan, attended by a dozen of ragged rosy peasant children, carrying fishing-rods and spears, and leading ponies, greyhounds, and spaniels, would, as it crossed the Tweed, have furnished no bad subject for the pencil, and really reminded me of the gypsey groups of Callot upon their march.'CHAPTER XLVIScott and the Actors—Kemble, Siddons, Terry—Terry's Imitation of 'the Shirra'—Anecdote of Terry and C. Mathews—Mathews in Edinburgh—'The Reign of Scott'—Anecdotes of his Children—Excursion to the Western Isles.A very remarkable feature of Edinburgh society at this period was the free admittance to the best houses of the chief actors of the time. Scott was particularly fond of their company. Charles Young, in 1803, seems to have been the first of these theatrical friends. Later came John Philip Kemble and his incomparable sister, Mrs. Siddons. Scott used to say that Kemble was the only man who ever seduced him into very deep potations in his middle life. Through his intimacy with Kemble, Scott was led to take an interest in getting Henry Siddons, Kemble's nephew, to take on the lease and management of the Edinburgh Theatre. He purchased a share, became a trustee, and continued to take much interest in the affairs of the company. Daniel Terry also was a friend of Scott's. Both Terry and Kemble were highly educated men, and were well read in the old literature of the drama. Terry was also, like Scott, an enthusiast in the antiquities ofvertu. Terry was remarkable for his apparently involuntary imitation of Scott, whom he almost worshipped. In particular, he acquired the power of imitating his handwriting so closely that Lockhart says their letters, lying before him, appeared as if they had all been written by one person. Scott himself used to say that, if he were called on to swear to any document, the utmost he could venture to attest would be, that it was either in his own hand or in Terry's. Their common friends were much amused at the approximation of Terry to a replica of Scott in facial tricks and gravity of expression, and even in tone and accent. It is this that gives point to an anecdote of Terry and Charles Mathews. They happened to be thrown out of a gig together, and Mathews received an injury which made him lame for life, while Terry escaped unhurt. 'Dooms,Dauniel,' said Mathews when they next met, 'what a pity that it wasna your luck to get the game leg, mon! Your Shirra would hae been the very thing, ye ken, an' ye wad hae been croose till ye war coffined.'Mathews was in Edinburgh in the spring of 1812, when he seems to have been greatly delighted with his success. On April 13th he wrote to his wife: 'Edinburgh turned out as delightful as Glasgow was horrible. Beautiful weather—good society—had the luck to see the superfine patterns of the Scotch; and the warmest reception I ever yet met with, because I have considered an Edinburgh audience so difficult to please. Hundreds turned away at my benefit. I reckon Edinburgh an annuity to me for the future.'Scott's popularity as a poet was about this time at its highest. This period (1811) was, as Byron said, 'the reign of Scott.' He had reached his poetical apogee with the publication of theLady of the Lake, the most successful of all his poems. In Edinburgh, by James Ballantyne's habit of reading portions to select friends while the work was printing, the highest expectations had been excited. Cadell, the publisher, testifies that, when it appeared, the country rang with the praises of the poet. 'Crowds' (he says) 'set off to view the scenery of Loch Katrine, till then comparatively unknown: and as the book came out just before the season for excursions, every house and inn in that neighbourhood was crammed with a constant succession of visitors. It is a well-ascertained fact, that from the date of the publication of theLady of the Lake, the post-horse duty in Scotland rose in an extraordinary degree, and indeed it continued to do so regularly for a number of years, the author's succeeding works keeping up the enthusiasm for our scenery which he had thus originally created.' Within a year no fewer than 20,000 copies of the poem were sold.Scott, as is well known, was always too modest and sensible to be, even at the height of success, 'a partisan of his own poetry.' John Ballantyne is the authority for a very surprising instance of this. 'I remember,' he says, 'going into his library shortly after the publication of theLady of the Lake, and finding Miss Scott (who was then a very young girl) there by herself. I asked her—"Well, Miss Sophia, how do you like theLady of the Lake?" Her answer was given with perfect simplicity—"Oh, I have not read it: papa says there's nothing so bad for young people as reading bad poetry."'Lockhart adds that the children in those days of childhood really did not know that their father was in any way distinguished above the other gentlemen of his profession who were their visitors and friends. He caps Ballantyne's story with another: 'The eldest boy, Walter, came home one afternoon from the High School, with tears and blood hardened together upon his cheeks.—"Well, Wat," said his father, "what have you been fighting about to-day?" The boy blushed and hung his head, and at last stammered out—that he had been called alassie. "Indeed!" said Mrs. Scott, "this was a terrible mischief, to be sure." "You may say what you please, mamma," Wat answered roughly, 'but I dinna think there's a waufer (shabbier) thing in the world than to be a lassie, to sit boring at a clout.' Upon further inquiry it turned out that one or two of his companions had dubbed him theLady of the Lake, and the phrase was to him incomprehensible, save as conveying some imputation on his prowess, which he accordingly vindicated in the usual style of the Yards. Of the poem he had never before heard. Shortly after, this story having got wind, one of Scott's colleagues of the Clerks' Table said to the boy—who was in the home circle calledGilnockie, from his admiration of Johnny Armstrong—"Gilnockie, my man, you cannot surely help seeing that great people make more work about your papa than they do about me or any other of youruncles—what is it do you suppose that occasions this?" The little fellow pondered for a minute or two, and then answered very gravely—"It's commonlyhimthat sees the hare sitting." And yet this was the man who had his children all along so very much with him.'It was at this time, while his heart was in a glow with happiness, that he made his famous excursion to the Western Isles. The Laird of Staffa, whose hospitality he celebrates, was the elder brother of his colleague Macdonald Buchanan. The Laird was an ideal specimen of the old Highland chief, 'living among a people distractedly fond of him.'CHAPTER XLVIIWaverleylaid aside—Rokeby—Excitement at Oxford—Ballantyne's Dinner—Scott's Idea of Byron as a Poet—Ballantyne's Mismanagement—Aid from Constable—Loan from the Duke—Scott decides to finishWaverley.On his return from the Hebrides, while rummaging one morning for flies in an old desk, Scott came upon a manuscript, long since laid aside, containing the first two or three chapters ofWaverley. It was now taken out, and shown to James Ballantyne. But he was only faintly confident of success, and the packet containing Cæsar's fortunes was again laid by.The poem ofRokebyoccupied Scott in 1812. In Edinburgh we see James Ballantyne again reading from the sheets to his select circle of critics. The effect is not quite satisfactory. TheLady of the Lakehas spoiled Edinburgh. Enthusiasm is gone. But not so in England. Look at this picture of Lockhart's: 'I well remember, being in those days a young student at Oxford, how the booksellers' shops there were beleaguered for the earliest copies, and how he that had been so fortunate as to secure one was followed to his chambers by a tribe of friends, all as eager to hear it read as ever horse-jockeys were to see the conclusion of a race at Newmarket; and indeed not a few of those enthusiastic academics had bets depending on the issue of the struggle, which they considered the elder favourite as making to keep his own ground against the fiery rivalry ofChilde Harold.'All anxiety as to the sale ofRokebywas soon allayed. The three thousand quartos of the first edition were exhausted on the day of publication, the 13th of January 1813. Scott's letter to his friend Morritt, the proprietor of Rokeby, shows relief. He mentions Ballantyne's 'christening dinner,' and gaily wishes 'we could whistle you here to-day.' These dinners were great events, 'at which the Duke of Buccleuch and a great many of my friends are formally feasted. He has always the best singing that can be heard in Edinburgh, and we have usually a very pleasant party, at which your health as patron and proprietor of Rokeby will be faithfully and honourably remembered.' By Morritt at leastRokebywas considered a masterpiece.The comparison of Scott and Byron, and the popular pitting of the one against the other, was inevitable. The first two cantos ofChilde Harold, published in March 1812, had obtained a marvellous success. It was of this that Byron said, 'I awoke one morning, and found myself famous.' In such popularity Scott alone was his rival. But the two poets equally disapproved the talk of competition. Speaking of a debate of this kind between Murray and Ellis, Byron said, 'If they want to depose Scott, I only wish they would not set me up as a competitor. I like the man, and all such stuff can only vex him, and do me no good.' In this manly spirit he might have spoken for both.No one appreciated more fully than did Scott the genius of the author ofChilde Harold. He seems from the first sight of that poem to have been satisfied in his own mind of Byron's pre-eminent powers in poetry. He had no desire, as he says, 'to measure his force with so formidable an antagonist,' but he determined to go on with the work he had planned, and already it is evident that his thoughts were turning vaguely towards some other literary form, in which the youthful ardour which he thought was cooling might be less essential to success.In this year of commercial panic, 1813, Scott began to experience the worries and discomforts which flow from a speculative commercial adventure shamelessly neglected by a reckless and incompetent 'manager.' The crisis was already bringing the less substantial publishing houses into danger, and the firm of John Ballantyne and Co. was soon reduced to extremity. Two features are mentioned by Lockhart which sufficiently show how well fitted John Ballantyne was to organise disaster: his blind recklessness in regard to bills—he never looked beyond the passing day—and his absolute neglect to keep the moneyed partner informed of his obligations and of the state of the firm's resources. In Lockhart's opinion the concern must have gone to pieces at this time but for the reconciliation with Constable. He relieved Ballantyne of part of his stock, on the understanding that the firm should, as soon as possible, be finally wound up. In these distressing affairs it is too sadly easy to understand the whole drama. From his beautiful and now unspeakably touching letters we can picture the good soft-hearted gentleman crediting the adventurer with all his own unselfishness and fine sensitiveness, pointing out with an apology errors of conduct which deserved immediate dismissal with disgrace, and lamenting possible consequences tohim, to the needy ruined adventurer who had found a haven of refuge in a business to which he had actually brought no capital at all. To make a phrase out of Spencerian jargon, Scott was the dupe of automorphism. His sense of duty to the imaginary Ballantynes made him the victim of the actual ones. He ought at this time to have kicked both of them out, put the affairs of both concerns into the hands of professional accountants, and considered the situation. But there was the secrecy as well as the automorphic delusion. Then he went on, of course, buying land. He was making money, and heoughtto have been able to spend. But if a genius can make one fortune, a reckless trifler can waste ten. It is dreadful even yet to think of Walter Scott, of all our great ones thebest, slaving and dreaming innocent Alnaschar dreams, while a Ballantyne, without any toil at all, is piling up mountains of debt to overwhelm him. By the end of the year, John's calls upon Scott necessitated more help from Constable and a loan to Scott from the Duke of Buccleuch of £4000. The publishing business was to be given up at once, and the amateur publisher was to start as an auctioneer of books and curios. During this time of vexation and worry, Scott was constantly engaged in toilsome and taxing labour on an edition and life of Swift, and also made a beginning with theLord of the Isles. Just then, too, the fragment ofWaverleyturned up once more. He read it, judged it this time for himself without advice, and decided to finish it.CHAPTER XLVIIISuccess of the Allies—Address to the King—Freedom of Edinburgh—Edition of Swift—Printing ofWaverley—Mystery of Authorship—Edinburgh Guesses—Excellent Review by Jeffrey—Scott's 'gallant composure'—Success of the Novel.'O, dread was the time, and more dreadful the omen,When the brave on Marengo lay slaughtered in vain,And beholding broad Europe bow'd down by her foemen,Pitt closed in his anguish the map of her reign.'The song which begins thus was written by Scott about the close of 1813, inspired by the great successes of the Allies. On the magistrates of Edinburgh presenting an address to the King, Scott indited one for them which was privately acknowledged to himself as 'the most elegant congratulation a sovereign ever received or a subject offered.' It is gratifying to know that the magistrates were duly grateful for the service, which secured for them an extremely cordial reception at Carlton House. At Christmas 1813 Scott was presented with the freedom of the city and a very handsome piece of plate.He had now been working for five or six years on the great edition of Swift in nineteen volumes, which came out in the summer of 1814. It was reviewed in theEdinburghby Jeffrey at Constable's special request. The review contained an attack on the character of Swift so able and incisive as, in Constable's opinion, to have greatly retarded the sale of the work. But Jeffrey's appreciation of the editor and his work was admirable: giving him the frankest praise for 'minute knowledge and patient research, vigour of judgment and vivacity of style.' Of theLifehe said most justly: 'It is not much like the production of a mere man of letters, but exhibits the good sense and large toleration of a man of the world, with much of that generous allowance for the"Fears of the brave and follies of the wise,"which genius too often requires, and should therefore be always most forward to show.' Meantime the latter 'genius' was preparing the great new stroke for fame which was now to extinguish all lesser lights in a blaze of unexpected glory. Early in the year Ballantyne had printed the first volume ofWaverley. With the precaution regularly exercised all through, the MS. was copied by John Ballantyne before being sent to press. The printed volume was taken by John to Constable, who made the very liberal offer of £700 for the copyright. Scott's remark was that £700 was too much if the novel should not be successful, and too little if it should. But he added, 'If our fat friend had said £1000, I should have been staggered.' Fortunately Constable doubted, and lost the opportunity, an agreement being ultimately made for an equal division of profits between him and the author. The authorship was, of course, not hidden from 'our fat friend.' He published, therefore, on the 7th of July, what Scott, writing two days after to Morritt, called 'a small anonymous sort of a novel.' Even then, it seems, 'it had made a very strong impression here, and the good people of Edinburgh are busy in tracing the author.... Jeffrey has offered to make oath that it is mine.' Later on, replying to Morritt's protests, he says, 'I shall not ownWaverley; my chief reason is, that it would prevent me the pleasure of writing again. David Hume, the nephew of the historian, says the author must be of a Jacobite family and predilections, a yeoman-cavalry man, and a Scottish lawyer, and desires me to guess in whom these happy attributes are united. I shall not plead guilty, however.... The Edinburgh faith is, thatWaverleywas written by Jeffrey.... The second edition is, I believe, nearly through the press. It will hardly be printed faster than it was written; for though the first volume was begun long ago, and actually lost for a time, yet the other two were begun and finished between the 4th June and the 1st July, during all which I attended my duty in court, and proceeded without loss of time or hinderance of business.'We have an admirable picture from Lord Cockburn of the impression made in Edinburgh by this memorable event, and the sensations, as he puts it, produced by the first year of these Edinburgh works. 'It is curious,' he says, 'to remember the instant and universal impression in Edinburgh. The unexpected newness of the thing, the profusion of original characters, the Scotch language, Scotch scenery, Scotch men and women, the simplicity of the writing, and the graphic force of the descriptions, all struck us with an electric shock of delight. If the concealment of the authorship of the novels was intended to make mystery heighten their effect, it completely succeeded. The speculations and conjectures, and nods and winks and predictions and assertions were endless, and occupied every company, and almost every two men who met and spoke in the street. It was proved by a thousand indications, each refuting the other, and all equally true in fact, that they were written by old Henry Mackenzie, and by George Cranstoun, and William Erskine, and Jeffrey, and above all by Thomas Scott, Walter's brother, a regimental paymaster, then in Canada. But "the great unknown," as the true author was then called, always took good care, with all his concealment, to supply evidence amply sufficient for the protection of his property and his fame; in so much that the suppression of the name was laughed at as a good joke not merely by his select friends in his presence, but by himself. The change of line, at his age, was a striking proof of intellectual power and richness. But the truth is, that these novels were rather the outpourings of old thoughts than new inventions.'From the very first the secret of the authorship was known to quite a number of persons, indeed to all Scott's intimates, and, in Lockhart's own opinion, the mystification never answered much purpose among other literary men of eminence. He thinks that all Scott wished was 'to set the mob of readers at gaze, and, above all, to escape the annoyance of having productions, actually known to be his, made the daily and hourly topics of discussion in his presence. All the critics, with the exception of the savageQuarterly, were able to see thatWaverleywas a great, an uncommon work. The author was at once acknowledged to be a genius. Foremost and frankest was Jeffrey, who began, 'It is a wonder what genius and adherence to nature will do.' The reviewer has, of course, many small and petty things to say, he has not yet surrendered himself fully to the great enchanter, but he clearly sees and heartily enjoys the points of real greatness—the creation of living characters and the marvellous resurrection of the period and its social state. He says what is a thing most true of Scott, that the work by the mere force of truth and vivacity of its colouring takes its place rather with the most popular of our modern poems than with the rubbish of provincial romances. This point, that the book was founded upon actual experience and observation, he strongly emphasises. This was what Scott of all possible authors possessed in the highest degree, and Jeffrey was quite certain thatWaverleywas Scott's. He concludes by saying that it is hard to see why the book should have been anonymous: if the author really was an 'unknown' personage, then Mr. Scott would have to look to his laurels against a sturdier competitor than any he had as yet encountered.Such was the reception ofWaverley: a reception not unworthy of a masterpiece. And it is worth while to remark once again the 'gallant composure' of the writer who had staked his fame and fortune on an experiment so new, uncertain, and dangerous. Before he had heard of its fate in England, he set out on a voyage to the Hebrides, Orkney and Shetland, so that he was practically cut off from letters and news for nearly two months. When he returned, he found that two editions ofWaverleyhad been sold.CHAPTER XLIXTheLord of the Isles—Guy Mannering—Universal Delight—Effects of Peace in Scotland—Awakening of Public Opinion in Edinburgh—'Civic War'—Professor Duncan—Sketch by Lord Cockburn.The month of January 1815 saw the publication of Scott'sLord of the Isles. On the 24th of February a second novel—Guy Mannering—was issued, by the Author ofWaverley. Detailed dates given by Lockhart show that the novel was literally written, as Scott himself said, 'in six weeks at a Christmas.' Writing to Morritt on January 15, he says, 'I want to shake myself free ofWaverley, and accordingly have made a considerable exertion to finish an odd little tale within such time as will mystify the public, I trust—unless they suppose me to be Briareus.' The biographer adds that this excess of labour was the result of difficulties about the discount of John Ballantyne's bills. TheLord of the Isles, though amply successful from the point of view of sale, was in point of reputation disappointing. On James acknowledging this, Scott, we are told by James Ballantyne, 'did look rather blank for a few seconds: in truth, he had been wholly unprepared for the event; for it is a singular fact, that before the public, or rather the booksellers, had given their decision, he no more knew whether he had written well or ill, than whether a die thrown out of a box was to turn up a size or an ace. However, he instantly resumed his spirit, and expressed his wonder rather that his poetical popularity should have lasted so long, than that it should have now at last given way. At length he said, with perfect cheerfulness, "Well, well, James, so be it—but you know we must not droop, for we can't afford to give over. Since one line has failed, we must just stick to something else"; and so he dismissed me, and resumed this novel.' The reviews of theLord of the Isles, though rather severe on the structure of the poem and the imperfections of the hero, did ample justice to the majestic power and unfailing vigour of the story as well as to its rare descriptive beauties. But most will now agree with Lockhart that the best achievements in the book are the magnificent character of the heroic King, and the Homeric battle-piece of Bannockburn.The reception ofGuy Manneringin the following month amply made up for this partial disappointment. In two days the first edition of 2000 copies was sold out. Within two or three months 5000 copies more were called for. Curiosity doubtless stimulated the first demand. The mystery was further deepened by the prefixing to the novel of a motto from theLay:''Tis said that words and signs have powerO'er sprites in planetary hour;But scarce I praise their venturous part,Who tamper with such dangerous art'—a device, as Scott said in 1829, for evading the guesses of certain persons who had observed that the Author ofWaverleynever quoted from the poetry of Walter Scott. The verdict of readers went by acclamation. There was no dissent as to the splendid qualities of the new novel. It was simply a chorus of delight. Happy generation to have thefirstenjoyment of the Shakespearian gallery of characters containing Dominie Sampson, the Laird of Ellangowan, Pleydell, Dandie Dinmont, and Meg Merrilies!In this frame of mind, then, and in this blaze of glory, Walter Scott passed on, with the rest, into the new generation and the changing Edinburgh scene that followed and were products of the great European peace of 1815. The effects of the peace were the same in Edinburgh as elsewhere in the country. Cockburn has summarised them in these words: 'We got new things to speak about; and the entire disappearance of drums, uniforms, and parades, changed our habits and appearance. We were charmed at the moment by a striking sermon by Alison, and a beautiful review by Jeffrey, on the cessation of the long struggle; the chief charm of each being in the expression of the cordial and universal burst of joy that hailed the supposed restoration of liberty to Europe, and the downfall of the great soldier who was believed to be its only tyrant. Old men, but especially those in whose memories the American war ran into the French one, had only a dim recollection of what peace was; and middle-aged men knew it now for the first time. The change in all things, in all ideas, and conversation, and objects, was as complete as it is in a town that has at last been liberated from a strict and tedious siege.'With the peace there began in Edinburgh some stirring of popular interest in public questions. One of the first signs of it was the great public meeting, held in July 1814, to protest against West Indian Slavery. The meeting was non-political, being attended by sympathetic persons of both parties. Yet it seems to have excited alarm, as an indication of dangerous and unsettled feelings. A monster petition resulted from this meeting, signed by ten or twelve thousand persons. Some of the promoters of the petition had an amusing experience. They found that many of the old Calvinistic Whigs would not sign any petition to theLords Spiritual. This was the real spirit of true-blue Covenanters!Over the New Town Dispensary, which was established in 1815, there raged what Cockburn remembered as 'a civic war.' The vested interests and old prejudices were up in arms against treating patients at their homes and the election of office-bearers by subscribers. 'However, common sense prevailed. The hated institution rose and flourished, and has had all its defects imitated by its opponents.' Prominent in this incident was Professor Andrew Duncan, an odd specimen of the curious old Edinburgh characters. He is described as a kind-hearted and excellent man, but 'one of a class which seems to live and be happy, and get liked, by its mere absurdities.' He figured as promoter and president of all sorts of innocent crack-brained clubs and societies, and wrote pamphlets, poems, epitaphs and jokes without end. His writings were all amiable, all dull, and most of them very foolish, but they made the author happy. The general respect and toleration for an eccentric like this throws a strong light on the simplicity and broad-minded philosophy of the 'unreformed' city population of a hundred years ago. The following are Lord Cockburn's recollections of Duncan:—'He was even the president of a bathing club; and once at least every year did this grave medical professor conduct as many of the members as he could collect to Leith, where the rule was that their respect for their chief was to be shown by always letting him plunge first from the machine into the water. He continued, till he was past eighty, a practice of mounting to the summit of Arthur's Seat on the 1st of May, and celebrating the feat by what he called a poem. He was very fond of gardening, and rather a good botanist. This made him president of the Horticultural Society, which he oppressed annually by a dull discourse. But in the last, or nearly the last, of them he relieved the members by his best epitaph, being one upon himself. After mentioning his great age, he intimated that the time must soon arrive when, in the words of our inimitable Shakespeare, they would all be saying "Duncan is in his grave."'CHAPTER LThe New Town of Edinburgh in 1815—Effects of the 'Plan'—The Earthen Mound—Criticisms by Citizens after the War—The New Approaches—Destruction of City Trees—Lord Cockburn's Lament.
CHAPTER XLIV
John Murray—Share inMarmion—Reverence for Scott—The Quarterly Review—The 'Cevallos' Article—Jeffrey's Pessimism—Contemplated Flight to America—Anecdotes of Earl of Buchan.
When Constable had concluded his arrangement with Scott, he followed a usual and prudent practice in offering fourth shares of the adventure to two other booksellers. They agreed, and their reply added, 'We both view it as honourable, profitable, and glorious to be concerned in the publication of a new poem by Walter Scott.' The writer of these words was John Murray, of Fleet Street, a young bookseller already of some note. Murray, as a keen business man, had evidently an eye to see and a mind that could grasp the future. He was aware that theEdinburgh Reviewwas the great source and support of Constable's fortunes. Knowing also that Scott, though a Tory, was an important contributor to theReview, ne seems to have been on the watch for the time when, as he acutely anticipated, some occasion of rupture would emerge. He told Lockhart long after that when he read the review ofMarmionand the political article in the same number, he said to himself—'Walter Scott has feelings both as a gentleman and a Tory, which these people must now have wounded; the alliance between him and the whole clique of theReview, its proprietor included, is now shaken.' With the same sagacity, he pushed his advances towards Scott by the medium of James Ballantyne. Murray came north in person, visited Scott at Ashestiel, and learned that, as he had expected, the disruption had begun. Scott had, in fact, been so disgusted with an article in the twenty-sixth number entitled 'Don Cevallos on the Usurpation of Spain,' that he had written to Constable withdrawing his subscription and saying, 'TheEdinburgh Reviewhad become such as to render it impossible for me to continue a contributor to it.—Now, it is such as I can no longer continue to receive or read it.' Mr. Cadell, one of Constable's partners, mentions that the list of the then subscribers exhibits, in an indignant dash of Constable's pen opposite Scott's name, the word 'STOPT!!!' The opportunity was a good one for advancing Murray's views. Before the end of the year some unguarded words of Mr. Hunter, Constable's junior partner, made the breach complete. We find Scott writing about 'folks who learn to undervalue the means by which they have risen,' and Constable stamping his foot and saying, 'Ay, there is such a thing as rearing the oak until it can support itself.' The result of all this, as concerns Scott, was that he eagerly entered into Murray's plans for establishing a rivalReview, and that he carried out a scheme, 'begun' (Lockhart admits) 'in the short-sighted heat of pique,' of starting a new bookselling house in Edinburgh, another rival to Constable.
Murray's newReviewwas theQuarterly. The first number came out in February 1809, and was quite sufficient to prove that theEdinburghwas now to have a powerful competitor, and Jeffrey to find in Gifford a 'foeman worthy of his steel.' The idea of theQuarterlywas precisely that which had guided the projectors of its rival, 'to be conducted totally independent of bookselling influence, on a plan as liberal as that of theEdinburgh, its literature as well supported, and its principles English and constitutional.' A great deal was, naturally enough, said at the time about the political excesses of theEdinburgh Reviewas having caused the introduction of theQuarterly. But there was no need to justify it on such grounds. Lord Cockburn in hisLifeof Jeffrey sums up the argument with equal fairness and good sense when he says, 'It was not this solitary article' (the 'Cevallos') 'that produced the rival journal. Unless the public tone and doctrines (of theEdinburgh Review) had been positively reversed, or party politics altogether excluded, a periodical work in defence of Church, Tory, and War principles, must have arisen; simply because the defence of these principles required it. The defence was a consequence of the attack. And it is fortunate that it was so. For besides getting these opinions fairly discussed, the party excesses natural to any unchecked publication were diminished; and a work arose which, in many respects, is an honour to British literature, and has called out, and indirectly reared, a great variety of the highest order of talent.'
Jeffrey himself, in writing to Horner for opinions of the newQuarterly, disavows with creditable spirit any unworthy jealousy or fear. He recognises the merit of the work, 'inspired, compared with the poor prattle of Cumberland,' and admits that his 'natural indolence would have been better pleased not to be always in sight of an alert and keen antagonist.' But at the same time he rejoices in the idea of seeing magazine literature improved, and congratulates himself on having set the example.
Lord Cockburn expressly states that Jeffrey was himself the writer of the unfortunate Cevallos article. It is curious and interesting, but not so very surprising, to find an earnest and far-seeing man like Jeffrey taking so despondent a view of British prospects in the Peninsula. It must be remembered that the great burst of enthusiasm in this country over the national rising of Spain against Napoleon was really, as every one now knows, founded upon ignorance and exaggeration. It was Jeffrey's chief crime that he ventured to doubt the patriotism and efficiency of the Spaniards. He could not, of course, foresee what the genius of Wellington was to effect, and he undoubtedly expected that Napoleon would enter Ireland soon; 'and then' (he asks) 'how is England to be kept?' Looking upon the conquest of the whole continent by France as a practical certainty, he was for peace at any price, and non-interference whatever happened elsewhere. It was his intention when the catastrophe came, to try to go to America. 'I hate despotism and insolence so much, that I could bear a great deal rather than live here under Frenchmen and such wretches as will at first be employed by them.'
Such cold fears and calculations were apt to make his writings distasteful in those excited times. The Cevallos article, in which he flatly expressed despair of the vaunted 'regeneration' of Spain, capped the whole. About twenty-five 'persons of consideration' in Edinburgh forbade theReviewto enter their doors. The Earl of Buchan, a rather vain and foolish character at the best, did more. He ordered the door of his house in George Street to be set wide open, and the offending number to be laid down on the lobby floor. Then, when all was ready, his lordship solemnly kicked the volume out into the street.
In Scott'sJournal, April 20, 1829, the death of this eccentric person is noticed: 'Lord Buchan is dead, a person whose immense vanity, bordering upon insanity, obscured, or rather eclipsed, very considerable talents.... I felt something at parting with this old man, though but a trumpery body. He gave me the first approbation I ever obtained from a stranger. His caprice had led him to examine Dr. Adam's class when I, a boy twelve years old, and then in disgrace for some aggravated case of negligence, was called up from a low bench, and recited my lesson with some spirit and appearance of feeling the poetry (it was the apparition of Hector's ghost in theAeneid) amid the noble Earl's applause. I was very proud of this at the time.'
CHAPTER XLV
The Calton Jail—Opening of Waterloo Place—Removal of Old Tolbooth—Scott purchases Land at Abbotsford—Professional Income—Correspondence with Byron—Anecdote of the 'Flitting' from Ashestiel.
In 1808-10 the new prison on the Calton Hill was built. It stands on a magnificent site, the old 'Doo Craig.' All will agree with Lord Cockburn's remark on the 'undoubted bad taste' of devoting that glorious eminence, which ought to have had one of our noblest buildings, to a jail. The east end of Princes Street was at that time closed in by a line of mean houses running north and south. Beyond this all to the east was occupied by the burying-ground, of which the south portion is still maintained. The only access to the hill on this side was to go down to the foot of Leith Street, and then climb 'the steep, narrow, stinking, spiral street still to be seen there.' The necessity for an easy access to the jail led to the construction of Waterloo Bridge. The blocking houses were, of course, removed, and a level road carried along to the Calton Hill. 'The effect,' says the author of theMemorials, 'was like the drawing up of the curtain in a theatre. But the bridge would never have been where it is except for the jail. The lieges were taxed for the prison; and luckily few of them were aware that they were also taxed for the bridge as the prison's access. In all this magnificent improvement, which in truth gave us the hill and all its decoration, there was scarcely one particle of prospective taste. The houses alongside the bridge were made handsome by the speculators for their own interest; but the general effect of the new level opening into Princes Street, and its consequences, were planned or foreseen by nobody.'
In a few years after the erection of the Calton Jail, the Old Tolbooth, the 'Heart of Midlothian,' was removed. Had it been preserved, it would have been the prize relic of historical antiquity in Scotland. 'Was it not for many years the place in which the Scottish parliament met? Was it not James's place of refuge, when the mob, inflamed by a seditious preacher, broke forth on him with the cries of "The sword of the Lord and of Gideon—bring forth the wicked Haman"?' It stood, 'as is well known to all men,' near the Cathedral, in the very middle of the High Street, and the purpose of widening the street and opening up the Cathedral was the excuse for its demolition. Scott describes it as 'antique in form, gloomy and haggard in aspect, its black stanchioned windows opening through its dingy walls like the apertures of a hearse.' Cockburn speaks of it as a most atrocious jail, the very breath of which almost struck down any stranger who entered its dismal door; and as ill-placed as possible, without one inch of ground beyond its black and horrid walls. And these walls were very small; the entire hole being filled with little dark cells; heavy manacles the only security; airless, waterless, drainless; a living grave. But yet I wish the building had been spared.' The only memorial of it now is a heart in the street formed of particoloured stones, showing where the door of the prison stood. At Abbotsford may be seen, decorating the entrance of the kitchen court, the stones of the old gateway, and also the door itself with its ponderous fastenings.
In the summer of 1811 Scott made his first purchase of land at Abbotsford. The name was taken from a ford in the Tweed just above the influx of Gala Water. The whole of the lands round there had at one time belonged to the Abbey of Melrose. The property had sunk into a state of great neglect under an absentee owner. The land was neither drained, properly enclosed, nor even fully reclaimed. The house was small, with a kailyard at one end and a barn at the other. But Scott in his mind's eye already saw it all as he intended it to be. With boyish delight in the prospect of realising his one innocent ambition, he writes to his brother-in-law: 'I have bought a property extending along the banks of the River Tweed for about half a mile. This is the greatest incident which has lately taken place in our domestic concerns, and I assure you we are not a little proud of being greeted aslairdandlady of Abbotsford. We will give a grand gala when we take possession of it, and as we are very clannish in this corner, all the Scotts in the country, from the Duke to the peasant, shall dance on the green to the bagpipes, and drink whisky punch.'
At the beginning of the next year, January 1812, Scott came into his salary as Clerk of Session. He had now a professional income of £1600 a year. Why, then, was he not to buy land and become a laird?
In this year began that correspondence with Byron which connects so pleasantly the names of the two most popular poets of the day. In one letter he mentions that he was staying in the gardener's hut at Abbotsford. Alterations were going on apace, and besides raising the roof and projecting some of the lower windows, a rustic porch, a supplemental cottage at one end, and a fountain to the south, soon made their appearance. Here is the 'laird's' amusing account of his 'flitting' from Ashestiel: 'The neighbours have been much delighted with the procession of my furniture, in which old swords, bows, targets, and lances made a very conspicuous show. A family of turkeys was accommodated within the helmet of somepreuxchevalier of ancient border fame; and the very cows, for aught I know, were bearing banners and muskets. I assure your ladyship that this caravan, attended by a dozen of ragged rosy peasant children, carrying fishing-rods and spears, and leading ponies, greyhounds, and spaniels, would, as it crossed the Tweed, have furnished no bad subject for the pencil, and really reminded me of the gypsey groups of Callot upon their march.'
CHAPTER XLVI
Scott and the Actors—Kemble, Siddons, Terry—Terry's Imitation of 'the Shirra'—Anecdote of Terry and C. Mathews—Mathews in Edinburgh—'The Reign of Scott'—Anecdotes of his Children—Excursion to the Western Isles.
A very remarkable feature of Edinburgh society at this period was the free admittance to the best houses of the chief actors of the time. Scott was particularly fond of their company. Charles Young, in 1803, seems to have been the first of these theatrical friends. Later came John Philip Kemble and his incomparable sister, Mrs. Siddons. Scott used to say that Kemble was the only man who ever seduced him into very deep potations in his middle life. Through his intimacy with Kemble, Scott was led to take an interest in getting Henry Siddons, Kemble's nephew, to take on the lease and management of the Edinburgh Theatre. He purchased a share, became a trustee, and continued to take much interest in the affairs of the company. Daniel Terry also was a friend of Scott's. Both Terry and Kemble were highly educated men, and were well read in the old literature of the drama. Terry was also, like Scott, an enthusiast in the antiquities ofvertu. Terry was remarkable for his apparently involuntary imitation of Scott, whom he almost worshipped. In particular, he acquired the power of imitating his handwriting so closely that Lockhart says their letters, lying before him, appeared as if they had all been written by one person. Scott himself used to say that, if he were called on to swear to any document, the utmost he could venture to attest would be, that it was either in his own hand or in Terry's. Their common friends were much amused at the approximation of Terry to a replica of Scott in facial tricks and gravity of expression, and even in tone and accent. It is this that gives point to an anecdote of Terry and Charles Mathews. They happened to be thrown out of a gig together, and Mathews received an injury which made him lame for life, while Terry escaped unhurt. 'Dooms,Dauniel,' said Mathews when they next met, 'what a pity that it wasna your luck to get the game leg, mon! Your Shirra would hae been the very thing, ye ken, an' ye wad hae been croose till ye war coffined.'
Mathews was in Edinburgh in the spring of 1812, when he seems to have been greatly delighted with his success. On April 13th he wrote to his wife: 'Edinburgh turned out as delightful as Glasgow was horrible. Beautiful weather—good society—had the luck to see the superfine patterns of the Scotch; and the warmest reception I ever yet met with, because I have considered an Edinburgh audience so difficult to please. Hundreds turned away at my benefit. I reckon Edinburgh an annuity to me for the future.'
Scott's popularity as a poet was about this time at its highest. This period (1811) was, as Byron said, 'the reign of Scott.' He had reached his poetical apogee with the publication of theLady of the Lake, the most successful of all his poems. In Edinburgh, by James Ballantyne's habit of reading portions to select friends while the work was printing, the highest expectations had been excited. Cadell, the publisher, testifies that, when it appeared, the country rang with the praises of the poet. 'Crowds' (he says) 'set off to view the scenery of Loch Katrine, till then comparatively unknown: and as the book came out just before the season for excursions, every house and inn in that neighbourhood was crammed with a constant succession of visitors. It is a well-ascertained fact, that from the date of the publication of theLady of the Lake, the post-horse duty in Scotland rose in an extraordinary degree, and indeed it continued to do so regularly for a number of years, the author's succeeding works keeping up the enthusiasm for our scenery which he had thus originally created.' Within a year no fewer than 20,000 copies of the poem were sold.
Scott, as is well known, was always too modest and sensible to be, even at the height of success, 'a partisan of his own poetry.' John Ballantyne is the authority for a very surprising instance of this. 'I remember,' he says, 'going into his library shortly after the publication of theLady of the Lake, and finding Miss Scott (who was then a very young girl) there by herself. I asked her—"Well, Miss Sophia, how do you like theLady of the Lake?" Her answer was given with perfect simplicity—"Oh, I have not read it: papa says there's nothing so bad for young people as reading bad poetry."'
Lockhart adds that the children in those days of childhood really did not know that their father was in any way distinguished above the other gentlemen of his profession who were their visitors and friends. He caps Ballantyne's story with another: 'The eldest boy, Walter, came home one afternoon from the High School, with tears and blood hardened together upon his cheeks.—"Well, Wat," said his father, "what have you been fighting about to-day?" The boy blushed and hung his head, and at last stammered out—that he had been called alassie. "Indeed!" said Mrs. Scott, "this was a terrible mischief, to be sure." "You may say what you please, mamma," Wat answered roughly, 'but I dinna think there's a waufer (shabbier) thing in the world than to be a lassie, to sit boring at a clout.' Upon further inquiry it turned out that one or two of his companions had dubbed him theLady of the Lake, and the phrase was to him incomprehensible, save as conveying some imputation on his prowess, which he accordingly vindicated in the usual style of the Yards. Of the poem he had never before heard. Shortly after, this story having got wind, one of Scott's colleagues of the Clerks' Table said to the boy—who was in the home circle calledGilnockie, from his admiration of Johnny Armstrong—"Gilnockie, my man, you cannot surely help seeing that great people make more work about your papa than they do about me or any other of youruncles—what is it do you suppose that occasions this?" The little fellow pondered for a minute or two, and then answered very gravely—"It's commonlyhimthat sees the hare sitting." And yet this was the man who had his children all along so very much with him.'
It was at this time, while his heart was in a glow with happiness, that he made his famous excursion to the Western Isles. The Laird of Staffa, whose hospitality he celebrates, was the elder brother of his colleague Macdonald Buchanan. The Laird was an ideal specimen of the old Highland chief, 'living among a people distractedly fond of him.'
CHAPTER XLVII
Waverleylaid aside—Rokeby—Excitement at Oxford—Ballantyne's Dinner—Scott's Idea of Byron as a Poet—Ballantyne's Mismanagement—Aid from Constable—Loan from the Duke—Scott decides to finishWaverley.
On his return from the Hebrides, while rummaging one morning for flies in an old desk, Scott came upon a manuscript, long since laid aside, containing the first two or three chapters ofWaverley. It was now taken out, and shown to James Ballantyne. But he was only faintly confident of success, and the packet containing Cæsar's fortunes was again laid by.
The poem ofRokebyoccupied Scott in 1812. In Edinburgh we see James Ballantyne again reading from the sheets to his select circle of critics. The effect is not quite satisfactory. TheLady of the Lakehas spoiled Edinburgh. Enthusiasm is gone. But not so in England. Look at this picture of Lockhart's: 'I well remember, being in those days a young student at Oxford, how the booksellers' shops there were beleaguered for the earliest copies, and how he that had been so fortunate as to secure one was followed to his chambers by a tribe of friends, all as eager to hear it read as ever horse-jockeys were to see the conclusion of a race at Newmarket; and indeed not a few of those enthusiastic academics had bets depending on the issue of the struggle, which they considered the elder favourite as making to keep his own ground against the fiery rivalry ofChilde Harold.'
All anxiety as to the sale ofRokebywas soon allayed. The three thousand quartos of the first edition were exhausted on the day of publication, the 13th of January 1813. Scott's letter to his friend Morritt, the proprietor of Rokeby, shows relief. He mentions Ballantyne's 'christening dinner,' and gaily wishes 'we could whistle you here to-day.' These dinners were great events, 'at which the Duke of Buccleuch and a great many of my friends are formally feasted. He has always the best singing that can be heard in Edinburgh, and we have usually a very pleasant party, at which your health as patron and proprietor of Rokeby will be faithfully and honourably remembered.' By Morritt at leastRokebywas considered a masterpiece.
The comparison of Scott and Byron, and the popular pitting of the one against the other, was inevitable. The first two cantos ofChilde Harold, published in March 1812, had obtained a marvellous success. It was of this that Byron said, 'I awoke one morning, and found myself famous.' In such popularity Scott alone was his rival. But the two poets equally disapproved the talk of competition. Speaking of a debate of this kind between Murray and Ellis, Byron said, 'If they want to depose Scott, I only wish they would not set me up as a competitor. I like the man, and all such stuff can only vex him, and do me no good.' In this manly spirit he might have spoken for both.
No one appreciated more fully than did Scott the genius of the author ofChilde Harold. He seems from the first sight of that poem to have been satisfied in his own mind of Byron's pre-eminent powers in poetry. He had no desire, as he says, 'to measure his force with so formidable an antagonist,' but he determined to go on with the work he had planned, and already it is evident that his thoughts were turning vaguely towards some other literary form, in which the youthful ardour which he thought was cooling might be less essential to success.
In this year of commercial panic, 1813, Scott began to experience the worries and discomforts which flow from a speculative commercial adventure shamelessly neglected by a reckless and incompetent 'manager.' The crisis was already bringing the less substantial publishing houses into danger, and the firm of John Ballantyne and Co. was soon reduced to extremity. Two features are mentioned by Lockhart which sufficiently show how well fitted John Ballantyne was to organise disaster: his blind recklessness in regard to bills—he never looked beyond the passing day—and his absolute neglect to keep the moneyed partner informed of his obligations and of the state of the firm's resources. In Lockhart's opinion the concern must have gone to pieces at this time but for the reconciliation with Constable. He relieved Ballantyne of part of his stock, on the understanding that the firm should, as soon as possible, be finally wound up. In these distressing affairs it is too sadly easy to understand the whole drama. From his beautiful and now unspeakably touching letters we can picture the good soft-hearted gentleman crediting the adventurer with all his own unselfishness and fine sensitiveness, pointing out with an apology errors of conduct which deserved immediate dismissal with disgrace, and lamenting possible consequences tohim, to the needy ruined adventurer who had found a haven of refuge in a business to which he had actually brought no capital at all. To make a phrase out of Spencerian jargon, Scott was the dupe of automorphism. His sense of duty to the imaginary Ballantynes made him the victim of the actual ones. He ought at this time to have kicked both of them out, put the affairs of both concerns into the hands of professional accountants, and considered the situation. But there was the secrecy as well as the automorphic delusion. Then he went on, of course, buying land. He was making money, and heoughtto have been able to spend. But if a genius can make one fortune, a reckless trifler can waste ten. It is dreadful even yet to think of Walter Scott, of all our great ones thebest, slaving and dreaming innocent Alnaschar dreams, while a Ballantyne, without any toil at all, is piling up mountains of debt to overwhelm him. By the end of the year, John's calls upon Scott necessitated more help from Constable and a loan to Scott from the Duke of Buccleuch of £4000. The publishing business was to be given up at once, and the amateur publisher was to start as an auctioneer of books and curios. During this time of vexation and worry, Scott was constantly engaged in toilsome and taxing labour on an edition and life of Swift, and also made a beginning with theLord of the Isles. Just then, too, the fragment ofWaverleyturned up once more. He read it, judged it this time for himself without advice, and decided to finish it.
CHAPTER XLVIII
Success of the Allies—Address to the King—Freedom of Edinburgh—Edition of Swift—Printing ofWaverley—Mystery of Authorship—Edinburgh Guesses—Excellent Review by Jeffrey—Scott's 'gallant composure'—Success of the Novel.
'O, dread was the time, and more dreadful the omen,When the brave on Marengo lay slaughtered in vain,And beholding broad Europe bow'd down by her foemen,Pitt closed in his anguish the map of her reign.'
'O, dread was the time, and more dreadful the omen,When the brave on Marengo lay slaughtered in vain,And beholding broad Europe bow'd down by her foemen,Pitt closed in his anguish the map of her reign.'
'O, dread was the time, and more dreadful the omen,
When the brave on Marengo lay slaughtered in vain,
When the brave on Marengo lay slaughtered in vain,
And beholding broad Europe bow'd down by her foemen,
Pitt closed in his anguish the map of her reign.'
Pitt closed in his anguish the map of her reign.'
The song which begins thus was written by Scott about the close of 1813, inspired by the great successes of the Allies. On the magistrates of Edinburgh presenting an address to the King, Scott indited one for them which was privately acknowledged to himself as 'the most elegant congratulation a sovereign ever received or a subject offered.' It is gratifying to know that the magistrates were duly grateful for the service, which secured for them an extremely cordial reception at Carlton House. At Christmas 1813 Scott was presented with the freedom of the city and a very handsome piece of plate.
He had now been working for five or six years on the great edition of Swift in nineteen volumes, which came out in the summer of 1814. It was reviewed in theEdinburghby Jeffrey at Constable's special request. The review contained an attack on the character of Swift so able and incisive as, in Constable's opinion, to have greatly retarded the sale of the work. But Jeffrey's appreciation of the editor and his work was admirable: giving him the frankest praise for 'minute knowledge and patient research, vigour of judgment and vivacity of style.' Of theLifehe said most justly: 'It is not much like the production of a mere man of letters, but exhibits the good sense and large toleration of a man of the world, with much of that generous allowance for the
"Fears of the brave and follies of the wise,"
"Fears of the brave and follies of the wise,"
"Fears of the brave and follies of the wise,"
which genius too often requires, and should therefore be always most forward to show.' Meantime the latter 'genius' was preparing the great new stroke for fame which was now to extinguish all lesser lights in a blaze of unexpected glory. Early in the year Ballantyne had printed the first volume ofWaverley. With the precaution regularly exercised all through, the MS. was copied by John Ballantyne before being sent to press. The printed volume was taken by John to Constable, who made the very liberal offer of £700 for the copyright. Scott's remark was that £700 was too much if the novel should not be successful, and too little if it should. But he added, 'If our fat friend had said £1000, I should have been staggered.' Fortunately Constable doubted, and lost the opportunity, an agreement being ultimately made for an equal division of profits between him and the author. The authorship was, of course, not hidden from 'our fat friend.' He published, therefore, on the 7th of July, what Scott, writing two days after to Morritt, called 'a small anonymous sort of a novel.' Even then, it seems, 'it had made a very strong impression here, and the good people of Edinburgh are busy in tracing the author.... Jeffrey has offered to make oath that it is mine.' Later on, replying to Morritt's protests, he says, 'I shall not ownWaverley; my chief reason is, that it would prevent me the pleasure of writing again. David Hume, the nephew of the historian, says the author must be of a Jacobite family and predilections, a yeoman-cavalry man, and a Scottish lawyer, and desires me to guess in whom these happy attributes are united. I shall not plead guilty, however.... The Edinburgh faith is, thatWaverleywas written by Jeffrey.... The second edition is, I believe, nearly through the press. It will hardly be printed faster than it was written; for though the first volume was begun long ago, and actually lost for a time, yet the other two were begun and finished between the 4th June and the 1st July, during all which I attended my duty in court, and proceeded without loss of time or hinderance of business.'
We have an admirable picture from Lord Cockburn of the impression made in Edinburgh by this memorable event, and the sensations, as he puts it, produced by the first year of these Edinburgh works. 'It is curious,' he says, 'to remember the instant and universal impression in Edinburgh. The unexpected newness of the thing, the profusion of original characters, the Scotch language, Scotch scenery, Scotch men and women, the simplicity of the writing, and the graphic force of the descriptions, all struck us with an electric shock of delight. If the concealment of the authorship of the novels was intended to make mystery heighten their effect, it completely succeeded. The speculations and conjectures, and nods and winks and predictions and assertions were endless, and occupied every company, and almost every two men who met and spoke in the street. It was proved by a thousand indications, each refuting the other, and all equally true in fact, that they were written by old Henry Mackenzie, and by George Cranstoun, and William Erskine, and Jeffrey, and above all by Thomas Scott, Walter's brother, a regimental paymaster, then in Canada. But "the great unknown," as the true author was then called, always took good care, with all his concealment, to supply evidence amply sufficient for the protection of his property and his fame; in so much that the suppression of the name was laughed at as a good joke not merely by his select friends in his presence, but by himself. The change of line, at his age, was a striking proof of intellectual power and richness. But the truth is, that these novels were rather the outpourings of old thoughts than new inventions.'
From the very first the secret of the authorship was known to quite a number of persons, indeed to all Scott's intimates, and, in Lockhart's own opinion, the mystification never answered much purpose among other literary men of eminence. He thinks that all Scott wished was 'to set the mob of readers at gaze, and, above all, to escape the annoyance of having productions, actually known to be his, made the daily and hourly topics of discussion in his presence. All the critics, with the exception of the savageQuarterly, were able to see thatWaverleywas a great, an uncommon work. The author was at once acknowledged to be a genius. Foremost and frankest was Jeffrey, who began, 'It is a wonder what genius and adherence to nature will do.' The reviewer has, of course, many small and petty things to say, he has not yet surrendered himself fully to the great enchanter, but he clearly sees and heartily enjoys the points of real greatness—the creation of living characters and the marvellous resurrection of the period and its social state. He says what is a thing most true of Scott, that the work by the mere force of truth and vivacity of its colouring takes its place rather with the most popular of our modern poems than with the rubbish of provincial romances. This point, that the book was founded upon actual experience and observation, he strongly emphasises. This was what Scott of all possible authors possessed in the highest degree, and Jeffrey was quite certain thatWaverleywas Scott's. He concludes by saying that it is hard to see why the book should have been anonymous: if the author really was an 'unknown' personage, then Mr. Scott would have to look to his laurels against a sturdier competitor than any he had as yet encountered.
Such was the reception ofWaverley: a reception not unworthy of a masterpiece. And it is worth while to remark once again the 'gallant composure' of the writer who had staked his fame and fortune on an experiment so new, uncertain, and dangerous. Before he had heard of its fate in England, he set out on a voyage to the Hebrides, Orkney and Shetland, so that he was practically cut off from letters and news for nearly two months. When he returned, he found that two editions ofWaverleyhad been sold.
CHAPTER XLIX
TheLord of the Isles—Guy Mannering—Universal Delight—Effects of Peace in Scotland—Awakening of Public Opinion in Edinburgh—'Civic War'—Professor Duncan—Sketch by Lord Cockburn.
The month of January 1815 saw the publication of Scott'sLord of the Isles. On the 24th of February a second novel—Guy Mannering—was issued, by the Author ofWaverley. Detailed dates given by Lockhart show that the novel was literally written, as Scott himself said, 'in six weeks at a Christmas.' Writing to Morritt on January 15, he says, 'I want to shake myself free ofWaverley, and accordingly have made a considerable exertion to finish an odd little tale within such time as will mystify the public, I trust—unless they suppose me to be Briareus.' The biographer adds that this excess of labour was the result of difficulties about the discount of John Ballantyne's bills. TheLord of the Isles, though amply successful from the point of view of sale, was in point of reputation disappointing. On James acknowledging this, Scott, we are told by James Ballantyne, 'did look rather blank for a few seconds: in truth, he had been wholly unprepared for the event; for it is a singular fact, that before the public, or rather the booksellers, had given their decision, he no more knew whether he had written well or ill, than whether a die thrown out of a box was to turn up a size or an ace. However, he instantly resumed his spirit, and expressed his wonder rather that his poetical popularity should have lasted so long, than that it should have now at last given way. At length he said, with perfect cheerfulness, "Well, well, James, so be it—but you know we must not droop, for we can't afford to give over. Since one line has failed, we must just stick to something else"; and so he dismissed me, and resumed this novel.' The reviews of theLord of the Isles, though rather severe on the structure of the poem and the imperfections of the hero, did ample justice to the majestic power and unfailing vigour of the story as well as to its rare descriptive beauties. But most will now agree with Lockhart that the best achievements in the book are the magnificent character of the heroic King, and the Homeric battle-piece of Bannockburn.
The reception ofGuy Manneringin the following month amply made up for this partial disappointment. In two days the first edition of 2000 copies was sold out. Within two or three months 5000 copies more were called for. Curiosity doubtless stimulated the first demand. The mystery was further deepened by the prefixing to the novel of a motto from theLay:
''Tis said that words and signs have powerO'er sprites in planetary hour;But scarce I praise their venturous part,Who tamper with such dangerous art'—
''Tis said that words and signs have powerO'er sprites in planetary hour;But scarce I praise their venturous part,Who tamper with such dangerous art'—
''Tis said that words and signs have power
O'er sprites in planetary hour;
But scarce I praise their venturous part,
Who tamper with such dangerous art'—
a device, as Scott said in 1829, for evading the guesses of certain persons who had observed that the Author ofWaverleynever quoted from the poetry of Walter Scott. The verdict of readers went by acclamation. There was no dissent as to the splendid qualities of the new novel. It was simply a chorus of delight. Happy generation to have thefirstenjoyment of the Shakespearian gallery of characters containing Dominie Sampson, the Laird of Ellangowan, Pleydell, Dandie Dinmont, and Meg Merrilies!
In this frame of mind, then, and in this blaze of glory, Walter Scott passed on, with the rest, into the new generation and the changing Edinburgh scene that followed and were products of the great European peace of 1815. The effects of the peace were the same in Edinburgh as elsewhere in the country. Cockburn has summarised them in these words: 'We got new things to speak about; and the entire disappearance of drums, uniforms, and parades, changed our habits and appearance. We were charmed at the moment by a striking sermon by Alison, and a beautiful review by Jeffrey, on the cessation of the long struggle; the chief charm of each being in the expression of the cordial and universal burst of joy that hailed the supposed restoration of liberty to Europe, and the downfall of the great soldier who was believed to be its only tyrant. Old men, but especially those in whose memories the American war ran into the French one, had only a dim recollection of what peace was; and middle-aged men knew it now for the first time. The change in all things, in all ideas, and conversation, and objects, was as complete as it is in a town that has at last been liberated from a strict and tedious siege.'
With the peace there began in Edinburgh some stirring of popular interest in public questions. One of the first signs of it was the great public meeting, held in July 1814, to protest against West Indian Slavery. The meeting was non-political, being attended by sympathetic persons of both parties. Yet it seems to have excited alarm, as an indication of dangerous and unsettled feelings. A monster petition resulted from this meeting, signed by ten or twelve thousand persons. Some of the promoters of the petition had an amusing experience. They found that many of the old Calvinistic Whigs would not sign any petition to theLords Spiritual. This was the real spirit of true-blue Covenanters!
Over the New Town Dispensary, which was established in 1815, there raged what Cockburn remembered as 'a civic war.' The vested interests and old prejudices were up in arms against treating patients at their homes and the election of office-bearers by subscribers. 'However, common sense prevailed. The hated institution rose and flourished, and has had all its defects imitated by its opponents.' Prominent in this incident was Professor Andrew Duncan, an odd specimen of the curious old Edinburgh characters. He is described as a kind-hearted and excellent man, but 'one of a class which seems to live and be happy, and get liked, by its mere absurdities.' He figured as promoter and president of all sorts of innocent crack-brained clubs and societies, and wrote pamphlets, poems, epitaphs and jokes without end. His writings were all amiable, all dull, and most of them very foolish, but they made the author happy. The general respect and toleration for an eccentric like this throws a strong light on the simplicity and broad-minded philosophy of the 'unreformed' city population of a hundred years ago. The following are Lord Cockburn's recollections of Duncan:—
'He was even the president of a bathing club; and once at least every year did this grave medical professor conduct as many of the members as he could collect to Leith, where the rule was that their respect for their chief was to be shown by always letting him plunge first from the machine into the water. He continued, till he was past eighty, a practice of mounting to the summit of Arthur's Seat on the 1st of May, and celebrating the feat by what he called a poem. He was very fond of gardening, and rather a good botanist. This made him president of the Horticultural Society, which he oppressed annually by a dull discourse. But in the last, or nearly the last, of them he relieved the members by his best epitaph, being one upon himself. After mentioning his great age, he intimated that the time must soon arrive when, in the words of our inimitable Shakespeare, they would all be saying "Duncan is in his grave."'
CHAPTER L
The New Town of Edinburgh in 1815—Effects of the 'Plan'—The Earthen Mound—Criticisms by Citizens after the War—The New Approaches—Destruction of City Trees—Lord Cockburn's Lament.