The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, No. 571 by Various
V >>
Various >> The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction, No. 571
EMBARRASSMENTS.
Thus stood the "pure contents" of Abbotsford, when, in January, 1826,
the failure of Messrs. Constable threw a gloom over Sir Walter's
affairs. The eminent publisher had been one of his earliest friends.
"Archie Constable," he once said, "was a good friend to me long ago,
and I will never see him at a loss." The sums given by Mr. Constable
for the copyright of Sir Walter's novels were nominally immense; but
they were chiefly paid in bills, which were renewed as the necessities
of the publisher increased, till, on his failure, Sir Walter found
himself responsible for various debts, amounting to 102,000_l_. About
this time Lady Scott died, and her loss was an additional affliction
to him. Various modes of settlement were proposed to Sir Walter for
the liquidation of these heavy debts; but, "like the elder
Osbaldistone of his own immortal pages, considering commercial honour
as dear as any other honour," he would only consent to payment _in
full_; and, in the short space of six years, he paid off 60,000_l._
"by his genius alone; but he crushed his spirit in the gigantic
struggle, or, in plain words, sacrificed himself in the attempt to
repair his broken fortunes." He sold his house and furniture in
Edinburgh, and, says Chambers, "retreated into a humble lodging in a
second-rate street (St. David-street, where David Hume had formerly
lived.)" He reduced his establishment at Abbotsford, and retired, as
far as his official duties would permit, from public life, accompanied
only by his younger daughter. In this domestic retreat, at fifty-five
years of age, he commenced
THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE
--visiting France, in 1826, for some information requisite to the
work. In the following summer the _Life_ appeared in nine volumes, an
extent much beyond the original project. As might be expected, from
the aristocratical turn of Sir Walter's political tenets, the opinions
on this work were more various than on any other of his productions:
it is, to say the best, the most faulty and unequal of them all; and,
considering how clearly this has been shown, it is somewhat surprising
to hear so clever a critic as Mr. Cunningham pronounce _The Life of
Napoleon_ as "one of the noblest monuments of Scott's genius." We pass
from these considerations to the excellence of the purpose to which
the proceeds (12,000_l._) of this work were applied--namely, to the
payment of 6_s._ 8_d._ in the pound, as the first dividend of the
debts of the author.
In parting with the _Napoleon_, we might notice the conflicting
opinions of the French critics on its merits; but, as that task would
occupy too much space we content ourselves with the following passage
from a journal published a few days subsequent to the melancholy
intelligence of the death of Sir Walter Scott being received in Paris.
The criticism is in every sense plain-spoken:--
"If Sir Walter Scott's politics did not square with the natural state
of things--if upon this subject he still remained the victim of early
prejudices, and, perhaps, of the predilections of a poetical mind, yet
he was fortunate enough to promote, by his writings, the real
improvement of the people. France has reason to reproach him severely
for the unaccountable statements in his "Paul's Letters to his
Kinsfolk," and in the "History of Bonaparte." But those errors were
imputable to carelessness much more than to malice. A prose writer, a
poet, a novelist--he yielded, during his long and laborious career, to
the impulse of a fancy, rich, copious, and entirely independent of
present circumstances, aloof from the agitations of the day,
delighting in the memory of the past, and drawing from the surviving
relics of ancient times the traditionary tale, to revive and embellish
it. He was one of those geniuses in romance who may be said to have
been impartial and disinterested, for he gave a picture of ordinary
life exactly as it was. He painted man in all the varieties produced
in his nature by passion and the force of circumstances, and avoided
mixing up with these portraits what was merely ideal. Persons gifted
with this power of forgetting themselves, as it were, and of assuming
in succession an infinite series of varied characters, who live,
speak, and act before us in a thousand ways that affect or delight us,
such men are often susceptible of feelings the most ardent on their
own account, although they may not directly express as much. It is
difficult to believe that Shakspeare and Moliere, the noblest types of
this class of exalted minds, did not contemplate life with feelings of
deep and, perhaps, melancholy emotion. It was not so, however, with
Scott, who certainly belonged not to their kindred, possessing neither
the vigour of combination, nor the style which distinguished those
men. Of great natural benevolence, gentle and kind, ardent in the
pursuit of various knowledge, accommodating himself to the manners and
sentiments of his day, good-humoured, and favoured by happy
conjunctures of circumstances, Scott came forth under the most
brilliant auspices, accomplishing his best and most durable works
almost without an effort, and without impressing on these productions
any sort of character which would connect them with the personal
character of the author. If he be represented, indeed, in any part of
his writings, it is in such characters as that of Morton (one of the
Puritans), a sort of ambiguous, undetermined, unoffending, good sort
of person."
"WAVERLEY NOVELS."
Up to this period, the secret of the authorship of the novels was not
generally known, though more extensively so than was at the time
imagined. The public had made up their minds to the fact; but the
identity was _not proven_. The adjustment of Messrs. Constable's
affairs, however, rendered it impossible longer to conceal the
authorship, which was revealed by Sir Walter, at the anniversary
dinner of the Edinburgh Theatrical Fund, in February, 1827. Thus he
acknowledged before three hundred gentlemen "a secret which,
considering that it was communicated to more than twenty people, had
been remarkably well kept." His avowal was as follows:--
"He had now to say, however, that the merits of these works, if they
had any, and their faults, were entirely imputable to himself." [Here
the audience broke into an absolute shout of surprise and delight.]
"He was afraid to think on what he had done. 'Look on't again I dare
not.' He had thus far unbosomed himself, and he knew that it would be
reported to the public. He meant, then, seriously to state, that when
he said he was the author, he was the total and undivided author. With
the exception of quotations, there was not a single word written that
was not derived from himself, or suggested in the course of his
reading. The wand was now broken, and the rod buried. His audience
would allow him further to say, with Prospero, 'Your breath has filled
my sails.'"
The copyright of the novels was soon afterwards sold for 8,400_l._,
and they have since been republished, with illustrations, and notes
and introductions by the author, in forty-one volumes, monthly; the
last volume appearing within a few days of the author's death.
FATAL ILLNESS.
Towards the close of 1830, Sir Walter retired from his office,
retaining a portion of his salary, but declining a pension which had
been offered to him by the present administration. He was now in his
60th year; his health broke apace; it was evident that the task of
writing to pay off debts, which were not of his own contracting, was
alike too severe for his mental and physical powers; and in the
succeeding winter they became gradually paralyzed. He somewhat rallied
in the spring, and, unfortunately for his health, embroiled himself in
the angry politics of the day, at a county meeting at Jedburgh, upon
the Reform question. He was then very feeble, but spoke with such
vehemence as to draw upon him the hisses of some of his auditors: this
ebullition of feeling is said to have much affected him; and he is
stated (we know not how truly) to have been observed on his way home
in tears.
In the autumn of last year Sir Walter, at the recommendation of his
physicians, resolved to winter in the more congenial climate of Italy;
though it required the most earnest entreaties of his friends to
induce him to consent to the change, so strong was his love of country
and apprehension of dying in a foreign land. He accordingly set sail
in H.M.S. the Barham for Malta, on the 27th of October; previous to
which he appended to the Fourth and Last Series of _Tales of my
Landlord_ the following affecting, and, as we lately observed, almost
prophetic, passage:
"The gentle reader is acquainted that these are, in all probability,
the last tales which it will be the lot of the author to submit to the
public. He is now on the eve of visiting foreign parts; a ship of war
is commissioned by its royal master, to carry the Author of Waverley
to climates in which he may readily obtain such a restoration of
health as may serve him to spin his thread to an end in his own
country. Had he continued to prosecute his usual literary labours, it
seems indeed probable that, at the term of years he has already
attained, the bowl, to use the pathetic language of Scripture, would
have been broken at the fountain; and little can one, who has enjoyed
on the whole, an uncommon share of the most inestimable of worldly
blessings, be entitled to complain, that life, advancing to its
period, should be attended with its usual proportion of shadows and
storms. They have affected him, at least, in no more painful manner,
than is inseparable from the discharge of this part of the debt of
humanity. Of those whose relations to him in the ranks of life, might
have insured their sympathy under indisposition, many are now no more;
and those who may yet follow in his wake, are entitled to expect, in
bearing inevitable evils, an example of firmness and patience, more
especially on the part of one who has enjoyed no small good fortune
during the course of his pilgrimage.
"The public have claims on his gratitude, for which the Author of
Waverley has no adequate means of expression; but he may be permitted
to hope that the powers of his mind, such as they are, may not have a
different date from his body; and that he may again meet his
patronizing friends, if not exactly in his old fashion of literature,
at least in some branch which may not call forth the remark, that--
"Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage."
Sir Walter resided at Malta for a short time; thence he proceeded to
Naples, where he was received with almost pageant honours. In the
spring he visited Rome; but "the world's chief ornament" had few
charms for one bereft of all hope of healthful recovery. His strength
was waning fast, and he set out to return with more than prudent speed
to his native country. He travelled seventeen hours for six successive
days, and, in descending the Rhine, had a second attack of paralysis
which would have carried him off but for the timely presence of mind
of his servant, who immediately bled him. The illustrious Goethe had
looked forward with great pleasure to the meeting with Sir Walter when
he returned through Germany, but the destroyer had fell also on him.
On his arrival in London, Sir Walter was conveyed to the St. James's
Hotel, Jermyn-street, and attended by Sir Henry Halford and Dr.
Holland, with Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart. He lay some weeks in a hopeless
condition, and when the flame of life was just flickering out, he
entreated to be conveyed to his own home. The journey was a hazardous
one, but, as the dying wish of the poet, was tried and effected: on
July 9th, he was conveyed to Edinburgh, whence he was removed to his
fondly-cherished home on the 11th.
DEATH.
Sir Walter's return to Abbotsford was an afflicting scene. On
approaching the mansion he could scarcely be kept from attempting to
raise himself in his carriage, such was his eagerness to catch a
glimpse of his home: he murmured, on his arrival, "that _now_ he knew
he was at Abbotsford." He lingered for two months, during which he
recognised and spoke kindly to friends, and was even pleased in
listening to passages read from the poems of Crabbe and Wordsworth:
till, on September 21st, 1832, he died, apparently free from pain, and
surrounded by his family.
FUNERAL.
His remains were placed in a coffin of lead, enclosed in another
coffin covered with black cloth, and gilt ornaments. The inscription
plate bore the words, "SIR WALTER SCOTT, of ABBOTSFORD, Bart. AN.
AETAT. 62." The funeral took place at Dryburgh, amidst the ruins of
the venerable abbey, at night-fall, on Sept. 25th; the body being
borne from the hearse to the grave by his domestics, and followed by
upwards of 300 mourners. A Correspondent has furnished us with the
subjoined note of the funeral.
It has been remarked that at the grave, the burial service of the
Episcopal Church was read by a clergyman of the Church of England (the
Rev. John Williams, of Baliol College, Oxford, Rector of the Edinburgh
Academy, and Vicar of Lampeter), although Sir Walter through life
adhered to the persuasion of the Presbyterian or Church of Scotland.
In Scotland no prayers are offered over the dead; when the mourners
assemble in the house of the deceased, refreshments are handed round,
previous to which a blessing is implored, (as at meals,) and _then_
only the minister alludes to the bereavement the family have suffered,
and strength and grace are implored to sustain them under it. This
gratuitous custom was adhered to, and previous to the funeral
_cortege_ setting out from Abbotsford, the Rev. Principal Baird,
offered up a prayer. But although a Presbyterian in practice, Sir
Walter in several parts of his works expressed his dissent from
several of the rigid canons of that Church, and an example occurs in
that graphic scene in _the Antiquary_, the funeral group of _Steenie
Mucklebacket_, where "the creak of the screw nails announced that the
lid of the last mansion of mortality was in the act of being secured
above its tenant. The last act which separates us for ever from the
mortal relicks of the person we assemble to mourn has usually its
effect upon the most indifferent, selfish, and hard-hearted:" and he
adds in condemnation, "With a spirit of contradiction which we may be
pardoned for esteeming narrow-minded, the fathers of the Scottish Kirk
rejected even on this most solemn occasion the form of an address to
the Divinity, lest they should be thought to give countenance to the
ritual of Rome or of England." And he seizes the opportunity to
applaud the liberal judgment of the present Scottish clergymen who
avail themselves of the advantage of offering a prayer, suitable to
make an impression on the living.
The scenery around his burial-place is fraught with melancholy
associations--enshrined as have been its beauties by him that now
sought a bourn amidst them. It had been the land of his poetical
pilgrimage: through its "bosomed vales" and alongside its "valley
streams" his genius had journeyed with untiring energy, then to spread
abroad its stores for the gratification of hundreds of thousands, who
may about his grave
Make dust their paper, and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
--Only let us glance at a few of the storied sites that are to be seen
around this hallowed spot: at Melrose, with antique pillar and ruins
grey--
Was ever scene so sad and fair.
Eildon Hill, where Sir Walter said he could stand and point out
forty-three places famous in war and verse;[14] and above all, the
tower of Smailholm Castle, where once "his careless childhood
strayed,"--the _Alpha_ of his poetic fame.
[14] Cunningham.
FAMILY.
Sir Walter Scott had two sons and two daughters. The elder daughter,
Sophia Charlotte, was married, April 28, 1820, to Mr. John Gibson
Lockhart, advocate, editor of the _Quarterly Review_. The eldest son,
Walter, who has succeeded to the baronetcy, is now in his
thirty-second year, and Major of the 15th or King's Hussars. In 1825,
he married Jane, daughter and sole heiress of John Jobson, Esq., an
opulent Scottish merchant, with which lady, report affirmed at the
time, Major Scott received a fortune of 60,000_l_. The estate of
Abbotsford was also settled by Sir Walter upon the young pair; but, as
the owner is stated not to have been at this time in a state of
solvency, though he thought himself so, and his estate now proves to
be encumbered with heavy debts, the deed of entail, of course, becomes
invalid, and the paternal property must be sold by the creditors of
the estate. There is, however, ample reason to hope that such a step
will be averted, by the gratitude of the public, and that Abbotsford
will be preserved for the family. The younger son, Charles, who is, we
believe, a junior clerk in the Foreign Office, is unmarried; as is the
younger daughter, Anne. The death of Lady Scott occurred May 15, 1826.
Mrs. Lockhart's children are as yet the only descendants of Sir Walter
in the second generation.
PORTRAITS.
The reader may be somewhat familiar with the personal appearance of
Sir Walter Scott, through the several portraits which have from time
to time been painted and engraved of the illustrious Baronet. His
height is stated at upwards of six feet; and his frame was strongly
knit, and compactly built. His right leg was shrunk from his boyhood,
and required support by a staff. Mr. Cunningham describes the personal
habits of Sir Walter with his usual characteristic force: "his arms
were strong and sinewy; his looks stately and commanding; and his
face, as he related a heroic story, flushed up as a crystal cup when
one fills it with wine. His eyes were deep seated under his somewhat
shaggy brow;[15] their colour was a bluish grey--they laughed more
than his lips did at a humorous story. His tower-like head and thin,
white hair marked him out among a thousand, while any one might swear
to his voice again who heard it once, for it had a touch of the lisp
and the burr; yet, as the minstrel said, of Douglas, 'it became him
wonder well,' and gave great softness to a sorrowful story: indeed, I
imagined that he kept the burr part of the tone for matters of a
facetious or humorous kind, and brought out the lisp part in those of
tenderness or woe. When I add, that in a meeting of a hundred men, his
hat was sure to be the least, and would fit no one's head but his own,
I have said all that I have to say about his appearance."[16]
[15] Mr. Chambers describes Sir Walter's eyebrows as so shaggy
and prominent, that, when he was reading or writing at a
table, they _completely_ shrouded the eyes beneath; and
the Ettrick Shepherd speaks of Sir Walter's shaggy
eyebrows dipping deep over his eyes.
[16] One of the amusements of Sir Walter's retirement was to
walk out frequently among his plantations at Abbotsford,
with a small hatchet and hand-saw, with which he lopped
off superfluous boughs, or removed an entire tree when it
was marring the growth of others. The author of
_Anastasius_ delighted in a similar pursuit; he would
stroll for hours through the winding walks of the
Deepdene plantation, and with a small hatchet or shears
lop off the luxuriant twigs or branches that might spoil
the trim neatness of the path.
Among the accredited portraits of Sir Walter Scott is that painted by
the late Sir Henry Raeburn, which has been engraved in a handsome
style; another portrait, by Mr. Leslie, was engraved in the
_Souvenir_, a year or two since, and was styled in the Noctes of
_Blackwood's Magazine_, "the vera man himsel;" but the latest, and
perhaps the best, was painted not many month's since, by Mr. Watson
Gordon, and admirably engraved by Horsburgh, of Edinburgh, for the
revised edition of the Novels. A whole-length portrait of the Poet in
his Study, at Abbotsford, was painted a few years since, in masterly
style, by Allan, and engraved by Goodall for the _Anniversary_, edited
by Mr. Cunningham, who informs us that "a painting is in progress from
the same hand, showing Sir Walter as he lately appeared--lying on a
couch in his principal room: all the windows are closed save one,
admitting a strong central light, and showing all that the room
contains--in deep shadow, or in strong sunshine." A splendid portrait
of the Poet was painted by Sir Thomas Lawrence for the late King, and
exhibited at the Royal Academy a few years since; an engraving of
which has been announced by Messrs. Moon, Boys, and Graves, his
present Majesty having graciously granted the loan of the picture for
this purpose.[17]
[17] A portrait of Sir Walter was painted by Knight for the
late Mr. Terry, in the year 1825: it is described in the
_Literary Gazette_ as, "particularly excellent," and was
unfortunately destroyed a short time since by a fire at
the house of Mr. Harding, Finchley, in whose possession
it was. This portrait, it is feared, has not been
engraved.--See _Literary Gazette_, No. 819.
[Illustration: (_Sir Walter Scott.--Sketched by Mr. W.H. Brooke, from
the engraving by Horsburgh._)]
UNPUBLISHED WORKS.
Report states that there are in the library of Abbotsford, unfinished
manuscripts and letters, which will compose ten volumes of
correspondence of Sir Walter with nearly all the distinguished
literary characters of his time. These will, of course, be given to
his creditors, as directed by his will. His son-in-law, Mr. Lockhart,
has likewise a great number of letters from Sir Walter; and Mrs. Terry
possesses the baronet's correspondence with the late Mr. Terry, who
was one of Sir Walter's intimate friends. This lady has likewise in
her possession a tragedy written by Sir Walter for her eldest son,
Walter Scott Terry, and intended by the author as a legacy for
Walter's first appearance on the stage.
With such materials, and the poet's autobiographical sketches prefixed
to his works, a competent biographer will, doubtless, be found among
Sir Walter's personal acquaintance. Mr. Allan Cunningham's "Account"
is, perhaps, the most characteristic that has yet appeared: it is full
of truth, nature, kindly feeling, and tinged throughout with a
delightfully poetic enthusiasm. Mr. Ballantyne, the intelligent
printer of nearly the whole of Sir Walter's works, and whom the Poet
much respected for his taste and good sense, has promised a memoir of
the deceased. Public expectation, however, points more decidedly to
Mr. Lockhart; although the Ettrick Shepherd will, doubtless, pay his
announced tribute to the talents and virtues of his illustrious
contemporary. In his Reminiscences of Former Days, prefixed to the
first volume of the _Altrive Tales_, published a few months since, is
the following striking passage:--"There are not above five people in
the world who, I think, know Sir Walter better, or understand his
character better than I do; and if I outlive him, which is likely, as
I am five months and ten days younger, I shall draw a mental portrait
of him, the likeness of which to the original shall not be
disputed."[18]
[18] Hogg is indebted to Sir Walter for many valuable
suggestions of subjects for his ballads, &c. There is
touching gratitude in the following lines by the
Shepherd, in his dedication of the _Mountain Bard_ to
Scott:
Bless'd be his generous heart for aye;
He told me where the relic lay;
Pointed my way with ready will,
Afar on Ettrick's wildest hill;
Watch'd my first notes with curious eye,
And wonder'd at my minstrelsy:
He little ween'd a parent's tongue
Such strains had o'er my cradle sung.
MEDAL.
A handsome Medal, in bronze, of the lamented Baronet, has been
published from the establishment of Mr. Parker, (medallist, and the
originator of some ingenious improvements in the construction of
lamps), in Argyle-place. The obverse is from Chantrey's celebrated
Bust of Sir Walter, and the reverse a graceful female figure, with the
inscription, "to great men;"--designed by R. Stothard, Esq., the
venerable Academician, and engraved by his son, A.J. Stothard, Esq.
The profile of the obverse is encircled with a motto chosen by Sir
Walter, as will be seen by the following letter; the date of which
shows that the medal was submitted to his approbation some months
since, together with a medal of his present Majesty. The letter is
likewise treasurable,[19] as well for the writer's opinion of the
Monarch, as of the productions of his own pen:--
[19] First printed in the _Literary Gazette,_ No. 819.
"Sir,--I would long ere now have answered your very obliging letter
with the medals. That representing our Sovereign seems most
beautifully executed, and is a striking resemblance. I have very
little turn for imagining mottos, it being long since I read the
classics, which are the great storehouse of such things. I think that
a figure or head of Neptune upon the reverse, with the motto round the
exergue, _Tridens Neptuni sceptrum mundi_. I think this better than
any motto more personally addressed to the King himself than to his
high kingly office. I cannot, of course, be a judge of the other
medal; but such of my family as are with me think it very like. If
there is any motto to be added, I should like the line