Читать книгу Walter Scott - The Man Behind the Books - Walter Scott - Страница 57
April
ОглавлениеApril 2. — Mr. Henry Liddell, eldest son of Lord Ravensworth, arrived here. I like him and his brother Tom very much. They are what may be termed fine men. Young Mackenzie of Cromarty came with him, who is a fine lad and sings very beautifully. I knew his father and mother, and was very glad to see him. They had been at Mertoun fishing salmon, with little sport.
April 3. — A letter from the Lord Chief Commissioner, reporting Lord Palmerston and Sir Herbert Taylor’s letters in Charles’s favour. Wrote a grateful answer, and resolved, that as I have made my opinion public at every place where I could be called on or expected to appear, I will not throw myself forward when I have nothing to say. May the Lord have mercy upon us and incline our hearts to keep this vow!
April 4. — Mr. Liddell and Hay Mackenzie left us this morning. Liddell showed me yesterday a very good poem, worthy of Pope or Churchill, in old-fashioned hexameters, called the [illegible]. He has promised me a copy, for it is still being printed. There are some characters very well drawn. The force of it belies the character of a Dandie, too hastily ascribed to the author. He is accomplished as an artist and musician, and certainly has a fine taste for poetry, though he may never cultivate it. He promises to bring his lady — who is very clever, but pretty high, they say, in the temper — to spend a day or two with us after leaving Edinburgh.
April 5. — This fifth day of April is the March fair at Selkirk. Almost every one of the family goes there, Mr. Laidlaw among others. I have a hideous paralytic custom of stuttering with my pen, and cannot write without strange blunders; yet I cannot find any failure in my intellect. Being unable to write to purpose with my own hand, this forenoon was a sort of holiday to me. The third volume of Count Robert is fairly begun, but I fear I shall want stuff to fill it, for I would not willingly bombast it with things inappropriate. If I could fix my mind to the task to-day, my temper, notwithstanding my oath, sets strong towards politics, where I would be sure of making a figure, and feel I could carry with me a great part of the middle-class, who wait for a shot between wind and water — half comic, half serious, which is a better argument than most which are going. The regard of my health is what chiefly keeps me in check. The provoking odium I should mind much less; for there will always be as many for as against me, but it would be a foolish thing to take flight to the next world in a political gale of wind. If Cadell gave me the least encouragement I would give way to the temptation. Meantime I am tugging at the chain for very eagerness. I have done enough to incense people against me, without, perhaps, doing so much as I could, would, or should have done.
April 6. — I have written to Alva and Lord Elgin, explaining why I cannot, as they encourage me to do, take upon me the cause of the public, and bell-the-cat with the reformers. I think I have done enough for an individual.
I have more than half dictated the third volume to Mr. Laidlaw; but I feel the subject wants action, and that a little repose will be very necessary. Resolve tomorrow shall be a resting-day. I have not had one this long time. I had a letter from Croker, advising a literary adventure — the personal history of Charles Edward. I think it will do. Rode to Melrose and brought home the letters from the postoffice.
April 8, — I took leave of poor Major John Scott, who, being afflicted with a distressing asthma, has resolved upon selling his house in Ravenswood, which he had dressed up with much neatness, and going abroad to Jamaica. Without having been intimate friends, we were always affectionate relations, and now we part, probably never to meet in this world. He has a good deal of the character said to belong to the family. Our parting with mutual feeling may be easily supposed.
April 9. — This being Saturday, I expect the bibliopolist and typographer about two o’clock, I suppose, when I shall have much to journalise. Failures among the trade are alarming, yet not if we act with prudence. Nous verrons.
Mr. Cadell and J. Ballantyne, with the son of the latter. Their courage is much stouter than I apprehended. Cadell says he has lost £1000 by bad debts, which is less than he expected, by bad times coming on at this time. We have been obliged to publish the less popular part of the Waverley Novels. At present I incline to draw a period after 48 volumes, and so close the publication. About nine or ten volumes will then conclude our Magnum Opus, so called, and Mr. Cadell thinks we shall then begin the Poetical Works, in twelve volumes, with illustrations by Turner, which he expects to rise as far as 12,000. The size is to be that of the Waverley Novels.
April 10. — I had a letter from Mr. Cowan, Trustee for
Constable’s creditors, telling that the manuscripts of the Waverley Novels had been adjudged to him, and offering them to me, or rather asking my advice about the disposal of them. Answered that I considered myself as swindled out of my property, and therefore will give no consent to any sale of the pillage. Cadell says he is determined to get the MSS. from Cowan. I told him I would give him the rest of the MSS., which are in my own hand, for Mr. Cadell has been very friendly to me in not suffering me to want money in difficult times. We are not pushed by our creditors, so can take our own time; and as our plans prosper, we can pay off debt. About two o’clock enter two gentlemen in an open carriage, both from Makerstoun, and both Captains in the Navy. Captain Blair, a son of the member for Ayrshire, my old friend the Laird of Blair. Just as they retreat, Mr. Pontey is announced. I was glad to see this great forester. He is a little man, and gets along with an air of talent, something like Gifford, the famous editor of the Quarterly. As in his case mental acuteness gave animation to that species of countenance which attends personal deformity. The whole of his face was bizarre and odd, yet singularly impressive. We walked round, I with great pain, by the Hooded Corbies’ seat, and this great Lord of the woodland gave the plantation great approbation. He seems rather systematic in pruning, yet he is in a great measure right. He is tolerably obstinate in his opinions. He dined, leaving me flattered with his applause, and pleased with having seen him.
April 11. — This day I went, with Anne and Miss Jane Erskine, to see the laying of the stones of foundation of two bridges in my neighbourhood over Tweed and the Ettrick. There was a great many people assembled. The day was beautiful, the scene romantic, and the people in good spirits and good-humour. Mr. Paterson of Galashiels made a most excellent prayer; Mr. Smith gave a proper repast to the workmen, and we subscribed sovereigns apiece to provide for any casualty. I laid the foundation-stone of the bridge over Tweed, and Mr. C.B. Scott of Woll that of Ettrick. The general spirit of good-humour made the scene, though without parade, extremely interesting.
April 12. — We breakfasted with the Fergusons, after which Anne and Miss Erskine walked up the Rhymer’s Glen. I could as easily have made a pilgrimage to Rome with pease in my shoes unboiled. I drove home, and began to work about ten o’clock. At one o’clock I rode, and sent off what I had finished. Mr. Laidlaw dined with me. In the afternoon we wrote five or six pages more. I am, I fear, sinking a little, from having too much space to fill, and a want of the usual inspiration which makes me, like the chariot wheels of Pharaoh in the sands of the Red Sea, drive heavily. It is the less matter if this prove, as I suspect, the last of this fruitful family.
April 13. — Corrected a proof in the morning. At ten o’clock began where I had left off at my romance. Mr. Laidlaw agrees as to the portion of what we are presently busy with. Laidlaw begins to smite the rock for not giving forth the water in quantity sufficient. I remarked to him that this would not profit much. Doing, perhaps, twelve pages a day will easily finish us, and if it prove dull, why, dull it must be. I shall, perhaps, have half a dozen to make up this night. I have against me the disadvantage of being called the Just, and every one of course is willing to worry me. But they have been long at it, and even those works which have been worst received at their appearance now keep their ground fairly enough. So we’ll try our old luck another voyage.
It is a close, thick rain, and I cannot ride, and I am too dead lame to walk in the house. So, feeling really exhausted, I will try to sleep a little.
My nap was a very short one, and was agreeably replaced by Basil Hall’s Fragments of Voyages. Everything about the inside of a vessel is interesting, and my friend has the great sense to know this is the case. I remember when my eldest brother took the humour of going to sea, James Watson used to be invited to George Square to tell him such tales of hardships as might disgust him with the service. Such were my poor mother’s instructions. But Captain Watson could not render a sea life disgusting to the young midshipman or to his brother, who looked on and listened. The account of assistance given to the Spaniards at Cape Finisterre, and the absurd behaviour of the Junta, are highly interesting — a more inefficient, yet a more resolved class of men than the Spaniards were never conceived.
April 14. — Advised by Mr. Cadell that he has agreed with Mr. Turner, the first draughtsman of the period, to furnish to the poetical works two decorations to each of the proposed twelve volumes, to wit, a frontispiece and vignette to each, at the rate of £25 for each, which is cheap enough considering these are the finest specimens of art going. The difficulty is to make him come here to take drawings. I have written to the man of art, inviting him to my house, though, if I remember, he is not very agreeable, and offered to transport him to the places where he is to exercise his pencil. His method is to take various drawings of remarkable places and towns and stick them all together. He can therefore derive his subjects from good accurate drawings, so with Skene’s assistance we can equip him. We can put him at home on all the subjects. Lord Meadowbank and his son, Skene and his son, Colonel Russell and his sister, dined with us.
April 15. — Lord Meadowbank, etc., went to Newark with me, and returned to dine with the foregoing. Charming day.
April 16. — Lord Meadowbank went to the circuit and our party to their various homes. By the bye, John Pringle and his brother of Haining dined with us yesterday. Skene walks with me and undertakes readily to supply Turner with subjects. Weather enchanting. About 100 leaves will now complete Robert of Paris. Query, will it answer? Not knowing, can’t say. I think it will.
Sunday 16th April to Sunday 24th of the same month unpleasantly occupied by ill [health], and its consequences, a distinct shock of paralysis affecting both my nerves and spine, though beginning only on Monday with a very bad cold. Dr. [Abercrombie] was brought out by the friendly care of Cadell, but young Clarkson had already done the needful — that is, had bled and blistered severely, and placed me on a very restricted diet. Whether these precautions have been taken in time I cannot tell. I think they have, though severe in themselves, beat the disease. But I am alike prepared,
“Seu versare dolos, seu certæ occumbere morti.”
I only know that to live as I am just now is a gift little worth having. I think I will be in the Secret next week unless I recruit greatly.
April 27. — They have cut me off from animal food and fermented liquor of every kind, and would press upon me such trash as panada and the like, which affect my stomach.
This I will none of, but quietly wait till my ordinary diet is permitted, and thank God I can fast with any one. I walked out and found the day delightful; the woods are looking charming, just bursting forth to the tune of the birds. I have been whistling on my wits like so many chickens, and cannot miss any of them. I feel, on the whole, better than I have yet done. I believe I have fined and recovered, and so may be thankful.
April 28 and 29. — Walter made his appearance, well and stout, and completely recovered of his stomach complaints by abstinence. He has youth on his side, and I in age must submit to be a Lazarus. The medical men persist in recommending a seton. I am no friend to these risky remedies, and will be sure of the necessity before I yield consent. The dying like an Indian under torture is no joke, and, as Commodore Trunnion says, I feel heart-whole as a biscuit. My mind turns to politics. I feel better just now, and so I am. I will wait till Lockhart comes, but that may be too late.
