CHAPTER VJOHN BALLANTYNE, PUBLISHER
The business at Paul’s Work continuing to prosper, about 1808 or 1809 a new venture was made by John Ballantyne commencing as publisher, with Scott as a “silent” partner. He took the designation of “Bookseller to the Regent.” This firm was projected as the result of a quarrel between Scott and Constable, regarding a political article which appeared in theEdinburgh Review—to which he occasionally contributed—combined also with the reputed incivility which he received from Mr. Hunter, the publisher’s partner. The capital for the new firm was arranged, and a deed, deposited for the purpose of secrecy in the hands of Scott, laid the foundation of the firm of John Ballantyne & Co., publishers and booksellers, Edinburgh. Scott appears to havefound most of the capital; and “jocund Johnny” was installed in Hanover Street as the avowed rival of Constable, and as publisher in Scotland, for John Murray, of the newQuarterly Review, which had been started in opposition to theEdinburgh.
JOHN BALLANTYNEFrom the original painting by John Ballantyne, R.S.A.
JOHN BALLANTYNEFrom the original painting by John Ballantyne, R.S.A.
JOHN BALLANTYNE
From the original painting by John Ballantyne, R.S.A.
It has often been a matter of surprise that Scott, with his family pride, his fame, and his money, should have adopted such means of adding to his income. He seems to have been ashamed in some measure of this mercantile speculation, as all the arrangements were kept a profound secret—Scott being always considered the mere patron and friend of the Ballantynes. He evidently thought he would derive profit from a business guided by a man of knowledge like himself, and confounded the aspirations of an author with the expectations of a merchant.
Scott was now at the zenith of his fame as a poet. Immense sums had been given by other publishers for his works, still more splendid offers were made to him for further productions, and it would seem probable that the idea of sharing the profits of author,publisher, and printer had presented itself to his mind in this way. Accordingly, the first work published by John Ballantyne, and printed, of course, by James Ballantyne, was “The Lady of the Lake,” for writing which the sum of £3000 was placed to Scott’s credit in the publisher’s books. After the business was fairly begun, Scott, greatly to the annoyance of Constable, almost wholly withdrew himself from the premises of the latter in the High Street, and directed his steps to the cheerful and handsome rooms of John Ballantyne in Hanover Street. They formed a convenient resting-place in his daily journeys to and from Parliament Square, and contained a store of his favourite black-letter volumes. No doubt, also, considering the extreme degree to which party spirit was carried in those days, he would find himself pleasantly free from the band of Edinburgh Whigs who frequented Constable’s premises in the Old Town.
But the publishing firm in Hanover Street, begun in pique, was never prosperous. Scott’s goodness of heart led him to help on many books which he ought to have knowncould never be successful. These included a ponderous “History of the Culdees,” by his friend Dr. Jamieson; a poor edition of Beaumont and Fletcher, by Henry Weber; three volumes of the Poems of Anna Seward, already referred to; a bulky collection of the Tixall Poetry and Letters; and, worse than all, theEdinburgh Annual Register, for which he himself did much work, but which left the firm with about £1000 a year on the wrong side of the ledger. Besides all this, John Ballantyne proved an indifferent and irregular book-keeper; and it was in vain that Scott repeatedly wrote letters of remonstrance to him, though in doing so he frequently made the bookseller’s habits the subject rather of his jokes than of his indignation. John was happy-go-lucky in his methods, and as Mr. Andrew Lang says, “was like the proverbial spendthrift who can never be induced to give his benevolent kinsfolk a full schedule of his debts.” The consequence was that the business was neglected and allowed to drift; and in 1813, when it was wound up, a great amount of useless stock had been accumulated, which waspartly cleared off by forced sales to Constable and others. Scott by this time had resumed friendly relations with Constable, whose partner Hunter was now out of the firm. The printing business at Paul’s Work was sadly hampered by these publishing transactions, and Constable himself was seriously injured by the burden of almost unsaleable stock, which he had to take over as part of the price he agreed to pay for the copyright of forthcoming works by Scott, and much of which he had afterwards to sell to other booksellers at a heavy loss to himself.[18]
Archibald Constable was one of the most sagacious men who have ever followed the profession of publisher.[19]Though he made no pretensions to literature, he was well skilled in it generally, and was of mostessential service to Scott on many occasions. He came from Fife, served his apprenticeship with Peter Hill, and then set up for himself in a “small way” in a shop forming part of the Royal Exchange buildings, next door to Allan’s Close, High Street. It was a mere box of a place, but as his business increased he enlarged his premises by opening a communication with the tenement behind. At first he devoted his attention to the collection of old and rare books, and the sign above his door had in large letters, “Scarce Books.” Shortly after he began business the public were amused one morning to find the preposition “of” inserted in the sign, advertising that the bookseller was “Scarce of Books.”
While struggling on, he gained the affections of the daughter of Mr. Willison, a well-known printer of Edinburgh. This connection seems to have arisen through the medium of theEdinburgh Review, which Constable published, and which Willison printed.[20]He discountenanced the match,but the young lady consulted her own inclinations, and the marriage took place soon after. The printer became reconciled, and gave his son-in-law considerable assistance; but the publication of theReviewwas the chief means of Constable’s advancement, and his little shop gradually became the rendezvous of the learned of Edinburgh.
After the failure of the publishing and bookselling company, John Ballantyne became a literary and art auctioneer in the Hanover Street premises. For this kind of work he was specially qualified; and he conducted it with marked success, particularly in the disposal of literary property. The auction rooms became a fashionable lounge. A periodical which he issued in connection with his business was called theSale Room, written very much after the style of theSpectator. It was rather a dull concern, however, and had little success; although one of its numbers contained a humorous poem by Scott called “The Sultan of Serendib, or The Search after Happiness,” and another had an article by Lockhart signed “Christopher Corduroy,” which first drew Scott’s attention to that writer.
The first number of theSale Roomwas issued on Saturday, Jan. 4, 1817, and contained the following introductory paragraph, presumably by John Ballantyne:
“An architect of great skill and experience was wont to say, that he found less difficulty in giving the plan of a gentleman’s seat than in devising a lodge for the termination of his avenue. We are much mistaken if a similar difficulty has not been felt by most periodical essayists. The first appearance before the public is like the entrance of a bashful person into a ceremonious company, and in both cases the French proverb applies,Ce n’est que le premier pas qui coûte.And how often have we seen such a person, qualified both to entertain andenjoy society, suffering during a whole evening under the too acute feeling of some awkwardness or inadvertent solecism, which he supposes himself to have committed on his first entrance. But the case of the essayist is still harder. The utmost that can be expected from a member of fashionable society is, that he shall present himself with the ordinary ease and grace of men of good breeding; and those who affect peculiarity, or marked singularity of manners, are in our day, as in Congreve’s, set down among the Lord Froths and Mr. Brisks, the solemn or lively coxcombs of society. But here the metaphor no longer holds; for, in this department of literature, mediocrity, however void of affectation, or even if marked by elegance, is insufficient to produce any impression on the public. It is expected of us, not only that we should be eloquent, but that we shall be new; not only that we should be correct, but that we shall be striking; and that our lucubrations should promise to combine originality with the humour of Addison, the learning of Cumberland, and the pathos of the Man of Feeling. Aware of the difficulty,not indeed of making such promises, but of giving the public any sound reason to think that it was in our power to keep them, we were somewhat tempted to elude the task of announcing our pretensions in an opening number; and, like the worthy Irishman, who, on finding the second month of attendance at the fencing-school was rated at a lower fee than that which preceded it, requested to take the second month first, we had half resolved to publish No. II. ofThe Sale Roombefore No. I.”
This opening Essay was signed C. for Coryphæus, the name given to the presiding genius of the contributors to the periodical. It continued for twenty-eight numbers, the last being issued on Saturday, July 12, 1817. It consisted of weekly essays of varying length of from six to eight pages, and, when the subject matter was only sufficient to fill six or seven, the remaining pages were left blank.[21]
John Ballantyne was much in request as musical critic on theEdinburgh Weekly Journal,of which his brother James was editor. He also made at least one excursion into the field of letters. This was a novel in two volumes called “The Widow’s Lodgings.” It had little merit, but reached a second edition.
A curious story of John’s volatile nature and indiscreet vivacity is related in the second volume of Mrs. Charles Mathews’ life of her husband, the well-known humorist and actor. At a dinner-party where Constable, Terry, and John Ballantyne were present, he closed a speech he had been making about some books with the startling announcement: “I shall soon send you Scott’s new novel!” Mrs. Mathews goes on to say: “I shall never forget the consternation of Messrs. Constable and Terry, and, indeed, we were as much embarrassed. Constable looked daggers—and Terry used some—for, with a stern brow and a correcting tone, he cried out ‘John!’ adding, with a growl resembling what is generally made to check or reprove a mischievous dog,—‘Ah! what are you about?’ which made us drop our eyes in pain for the indiscreet tattler; while Wee Johnnylooked like an impersonation of Fear, startled at the sound himself had made. Not another word was said; but our little good-natured friend’s lapse was sacred with us, and the secret was never divulged while it was important to preserve it.”
John Ballantyne visited the Continent shortly after Waterloo, and published an account of his travels, in which the “long-bow” did good service. Being on one occasion rebuked by a lady for having stated as facts what were transparent fictions, his reply to the censure was in these few words: “Very true, madam, what you say; but truth is a great hamperer of genius.”[22]
During the earlier and perhaps most interesting years in the career of the “Great Unknown,” John Ballantyne managed all the business connected with the communication of the author’s works to the public. When Scott began “The Bride of Lammermoor,” his amanuenses were William Laidlaw and John Ballantyne, “of whom he preferred the latter, when he could be at Abbotsford, on accountof the superior rapidity of his pen, and also because John kept his pen to the paper without interruption; and, though with many an arch twinkle in his eyes, and now and then an audible smack of his lips, had resolution to work on like a well-trained clerk; whereas good Laidlaw entered with such keen zest into the interest of the story as it flowed from the author’s lips, that he could not suppress exclamations of surprise and delight—‘Gude keep us a’!—the like o’ that!—eh sirs!’ and so forth, which did not promote despatch.”[23]
In several long articles which appeared inTait’s Magazinein 1843, entitled “Random Recollections of Scott and the Ettrick Shepherd,” by Mr. John Morrison, a land-surveyor, there are several notices of James and John Ballantyne. The following is one of those relating to John: “On a day appointed,” says Mr. Morrison, “we all set out on a hare-hunting expedition. Miss Scott rode Queen Mab, a little pony; John Ballantyne was mounted on Old Mortality, an old gauntwhite horse. He was dressed in a green coat, the buttons of mother-of-pearl, silver and gold—with, if I remember well, a precious stone in the centre, and altogether a most harlequin and piebald figure. Sir Walter appeared to laugh and amuse himself with his grotesque appearance. I admired the buttons. ‘And well you may,’ said Sir Walter. ‘These buttons, sir, belonged to the Great Montrose, and were cut, by our friend John, from an old coat belonging to the Marquis, which he purchased from an unworthy descendant of the family, Graham of Gartmore, with many other nick-nackets too tedious to enumerate.’ On the same day,” Mr. Morrison continues, “at and after dinner, although he looked very kindly on Johnny Ballantyne, Scott made himself merry at his expense, and Ballantyne seemed awed in his presence; although, when addressed, he turned a bold front to any one else. I ventured to joke him a little on the quality of his coat, and said it was the best at table. ‘Yes,’ said John, ‘and it belonged to a better man.’ You will find some difficulty in convincing Mr. Morrison of that,’ said Sir Walter”—the latter wellknowing that Morrison’s sentiments regarding the character of Montrose were at variance with his own.
After some years of failing health, John Ballantyne retired to a villa which he had built near Kelso, and here he was frequently visited by Sir Walter. On one of these occasions, the latter revived a long-forgotten project of their early connection in business, and offered his gratuitous services as editor of a Novelists’ Library, to be printed and published for the benefit of his friend. The offer was eagerly embraced, and the first volume of “Ballantyne’s Novelists’ Library” appeared in February 1821, though the collection, notwithstanding the Biographies and Introductions which Scott wrote for it,[24]did not prove a fortunate speculation.
On the 16th of June 1821, John Ballantyne died at Edinburgh. Until a week or two before, Sir Walter had not entertained anythought that his end was so near. “I (Lockhart) accompanied Sir Walter when one of their last interviews took place, and John’s deathbed was a thing not to be forgotten. We sat by him for perhaps an hour, and I think half that space was occupied with his predictions of a speedy end, and details of his last will, which he had just been executing, and which lay on his coverlid; the other half being given, five minutes or so at a time, to questions and remarks, which intimated that the hope of life was still flickering before him—nay, that his interest in all its concerns remained eager. The proof-sheets of a volume of his Novelists’ Library lay also by his pillow; and he passed from them to his will, and then back to them, as by jerks and starts the unwonted veil of gloom closed upon his imagination, or was withdrawn again.... Scott was visibly and profoundly shaken by this scene and sequel. As we stood together a few days afterwards, while they were smoothing the turf over John’s remains in the Canongate Churchyard, the heavens, which had been dark and slaty, cleared up suddenly, and the midsummer sun shoneforth in his strength. Scott, ever awake to the skyey influences, cast his eye along the overhanging line of the Calton Hill, with its gleaming walls and towers, and then turning to the grave again, ‘I feel,’ he whispered in my ear, ‘I feel as if there would be less sunshine for me from this day forth.’
“As we walked homewards, Scott told me, among other favourable traits of his friend, one little story which I must not omit. He remarked one day to a poor student of divinity attending his auction, that he looked as if he were in bad health. The young man assented with a sigh. ‘Come,’ said Ballantyne, ‘I think I ken the secret of a sort of draft that would relieve you—particularly,’—he added, handing him a cheque for £5 or £10—‘particularly, my dear, if taken upon an empty stomach.’”[25]
In the “Noctes Ambrosianæ” (vol. iii. pp. 93-95), there is the following tribute to the memory of John Ballantyne:—
Shepherd.Johnny Ballantyne!
North.Methinks I see him—his slight,slender figure, restless with a spirit that knew no rest—his face so suddenly changeful in its expression from what a stranger might have thought habitual gravity, into what his friends knew to be native there—glee irrepressible and irresistible—the very madness of mirth, James, in which the fine ether of animal spirits seemed to respire the breath of genius, and to shed through the room, or the open air, a contagion of cheerfulness, against which no heart was proof, however sullen, and no features could stand, however grim; but still all the company, Canters and Covenanters inclusive, relaxed and thawed into murmurs of merriment, even as the strong spring sunshine sends a-singing the bleak frozen moor-streams till all the wilderness is alive with music.
Shepherd.He was indeed a canty cratur—a delichtfu’ companion.
North.I hear his voice this moment within my imagination, as distinct as if it were speaking. ’Twas exceedingly pleasant....
Shepherd.What’n a lauch!
North.Soul-and-heart-felt!
Shepherd.Mony a strange story fell downstane-dead when his tongue grew mute. Thousands o’ curious, na, unaccountable anecdotes, ceased to be the day his een were closed, for he telt them, sir, as ye ken, wi’ his een mair than his lips; and his verra hauns spak, when he snapped his forefinger and his thoom, or wi’ the haill five spread out—and he had what I ca’ an elegant haun o’ fine fingers, as maist wutty men hae—manually illustrated his subjeck, till the words gaed aff, murmuring like bees frae the tips; and then Johnny was quate again for a minute or sae, till some ither freak o’ a fancy came athwart his genie, and instantly loupt intil look, lauch, or speech—or rather a’ the three thegither in ane, while Sir Walter himsel keckled on his chair, and leanin’ wi’ thae extraordinar chowks o’ his, that aften seem to me amaist as expressive as his pile o’ forehead, hoo would he fix the grey illumination o’ his een on his freen Johnny, and ca’ him by that familiar name; and by the sympathy o’ that maist capawcious o’ a’ souls, set him clean mad—richt-doun wudd a’thegither—till really, sir, he got untholeably divertin’; and folk compleened o’ pains in their sides, and satwi’ the tears rinnin’ doun their cheeks, praying him for gudeness to haud his tongue, for that gin he didna, somebody or ither would be fa’in doun in a fit, and be carried out dead.
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.PAINTED BY SIR HENRY RAEBURN, R.A.
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.PAINTED BY SIR HENRY RAEBURN, R.A.
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.
PAINTED BY SIR HENRY RAEBURN, R.A.