Chapter XXXV
Failure of Lewis’s Tales—Scott’s Border Minstrelsy—Ballantyne’s Printing—His Conceit—Removal of Chief Baron from Queensberry House—His odd Benevolence—Anecdote of Charles Hope—The Schoolmasters Act.
The long-deferred Tales of Wonder at length appeared in 1801. For various reasons the book was a failure. A vigorous parody held up the author’s style and person to ridicule. On the whole, however, Scott’s share in the unlucky venture did him no harm. His contributions, he says, were dismissed without much censure, and in some cases received praise from the critics. ‘Like Lord Home at the battle of Flodden, I did so far well, that I was able to stand and save myself.’
The episode seems to have made him all the more eager to come forward on his own account with the Minstrelsy. Volumes I. and II. were published in January 1802 by Cadell and Davies, of the Strand. The edition was specially remarkable as being the first work printed by James Ballantyne from his press at Kelso. ‘When the book came out, the imprint, Kelso, was read with wonder by amateurs of typography, who had never heard of such a place, and were astonished at the example of handsome printing which so obscure a town had produced.’ (See ‘Essay on Imitations of the Ancient Ballad.’) We know from Lockhart that the editor’s most sanguine expectations were exceeded by its success. The edition was exhausted in the course of the year, and Scott received £78, 10s., being half the net profits of the venture. Longman, it seems, came in person to Edinburgh, to make ‘a very liberal offer’ for the copyright, including the third volume, which was accepted. There is a letter to Scott from James Ballantyne, who had been in London, ‘cultivating acquaintance with publishers,’ in which he says, ‘I shall ever think the printing the Scottish Minstrelsy one of the most fortunate circumstances of my life. I have gained, not lost by it, in a pecuniary light; and the prospects it has been the means of opening to me, may advantageously influence my future destiny. I can never be sufficiently grateful for the interest you unceasingly take in my welfare. One thing is clear—that Kelso cannot be my abiding place for aye.’
Soaring ambition of the ‘stickit solicitor,’ and melancholy blindness of the great man who took the conceited ‘cratur’ on his own valuation! But the ill-omened ‘Bulmer of Kelso’ had not yet descended on the Canongate, when an event happened which may be regarded as summing up and crowning the transformation of old Edinburgh. It was a sort of postscript to the change which the last generation had seen effected with such startling and tragic rapidity. This was the removal (in 1801) of the family of Lord Chief Baron Sir James Montgomery from their famous residence, Queensberry House in the Canongate. Queensberry House was acquired by the first Duke of Queensberry from Lord Halton, afterwards Earl of Lauderdale. The Duke is said to have practically rebuilt it and made it, both inside and out, one of the finest mansions in the country. To-day there is nothing suggestive of former grandeur about the building, except its size and the massive wall which fronts it. The name ‘Queensberry House’ is painted on the gate and is also on a brass plate at the bell-handle. The building looks like a modern barrack, the windows having been pointed and freshened up for the visit of King Edward: very proper treatment for a ‘House of Refuge,’ if not for Queensberry House. In this mansion, ‘Kitty, beautiful and young,’ the wife of Charles, third Duke, used to lead the aristocratic society of Edinburgh in the days of the first and second Georges. She was the friend of Prior, who celebrated her as ‘the Female Phaeton,’ and half a century later Horace Walpole added two lines to the poem:—
‘To many a Kitty Love his car will for a day engage,
But Prior’s Kitty, ever fair, obtained it for an age.’
Under ‘Old Q.’ the mansion in the Canongate was dismantled. Sir James Montgomery resided in it till 1801, when he resigned his seat as Chief Baron, and retired to the country. ‘I believe’ (says Cockburn) ‘he was the last gentleman who resided in that historical mansion, which, though now one of the asylums of destitution, was once the brilliant abode of rank and fashion and political intrigue. I wish the Canongate could be refreshed again by the habitual sight of the Lord Chief Baron’s family and company, and the gorgeous carriage, and the tall and well-dressed figure, in the old style, of his Lordship himself. He was much in our house, my father being one of his Puisnes. Though a remarkably kind landlord, he thought it his duty to proceed sometimes with apparent severity against poachers, smugglers, and other rural corrupters; but as it generally ended in his paying the fine himself, in order to save the family, his benevolence was supposed to do more harm than his justice did good. He died in 1803.’
On the occasion of Montgomery’s retirement Robert Dundas was appointed Lord Chief Baron, and Charles Hope became Lord Advocate. His short career was signalised by a somewhat rash and high-handed proceeding against Morison, a Banffshire farmer, who had dismissed a ploughman for absenting himself without leave in order to attend a volunteer drill. The matter led to a motion of censure in the House of Commons, which was not carried, but considerable odium was stirred. Hope in his defence had spoken of the Lord Advocate as vested with the whole powers of the state, both military and civil. An English newspaper reported Hope’s return to Scotland in this satirical paragraph:—‘Arrived at Edinburgh, the Lord High Chancellor of Scotland, the Lord Justice-General, the Lord Privy Seal, the Privy Council, and the Lord Advocate, all in one post-chaise, containing only a single person.’
Lord Cockburn has very properly defended the memory of Hope from all imputation of injustice. This act, he says, was entirely owing to a hot temperament not cooled by a sound head. ‘In spite of all his talent and all his worth, had he continued in the very delicate position of Lord Advocate, his infirmity might have again brought him into some similar trouble. It was fortunate therefore that the gods, envying mortals the longer possession of Eskgrove, took him to themselves; and Hope reigned in his stead. He was made Lord Justice-Clerk in December 1804.’
It was Hope that carried through the Schoolmasters Act of 1803, by which the heritors were compelled to build houses for the schoolmasters. The Act prescribed that the houses (!) need not contain more than two rooms including the kitchen. The provision was considered shabby even in those days, but it was all that could be got out of Parliament then. Hope told Lord Cockburn that he had considerable difficulty in getting even the two rooms, and that a great majority of the lairds and Scottish members were indignant at being obliged to ‘erect palaces for dominies.’