Carlyle on Lockhart's Life of Scott

Thomas Carlyle wrote a letter to his mother, Margaret on December 7^th, 1837, in which he discusses working on an article concerning Sir Walter Scott.  The letter reveals something of Carlyle’s approach to his subjects.

‘…Directly after or very soon after my last Letter to you went off, I did begin to [write] that Article on Walter Scott, which there was talk of then. I felt disgusted with the task, but in some measure bound to do it. Accordingly it is done, last night, thank Heaven! A long, occasionally rather stupid Article; for which however I shall likely get a matter of £50, always useful here. There will I think be some uncertainty about the time of its coming out; perhaps not till April next;6 that is no matter. Here the thing lies, fairly sealed up and finished, and will be out of my hands in an hour; you shall see it, as I hope, when it comes out; I will take care to have it forwarded in some way. I have been obliged to say several rather crabbed things about Sir Walter, and to take down the pegs greatly in respect of the admiration many have of him: but there is nothing malicious or unjust; nay I end, as one should do with all men, in sincere love and pity for him…’

Carlyle’s article was published in January 1838, in London and Westminster Review; a review of John Gibson Lockhart’s “Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott”.  A link to Carlyle’s essay (housed at Fordham University) is found in Edinburgh University’s Walter Scott archive: http://www.walterscott.lib.ed.ac.uk/links/criticism.html.

Saint Nicholas

"Where is the Miller?" was his first question.

"On the road towards Rotherham."

"With how many?" demanded the leader, for such he seemed to be.

"With six men, and good hope of booty, if it please St Nicholas."

Christmas is coming, and St. Nicholas Day is here.  Nikolaos, Bishop of Myra, died on December 6^th, 343. The text above is from Walter Scott's "Ivanhoe".

Mackenzie on Dreams

‘December 5 [1825]—…Dined at the Royal Society Club, where, as usual, was a pleasant meeting of from twenty to twenty-five. It is a very good institution; we pay two guineas only for six dinners in the year, present or absent. Dine at five, or rather half-past five, at the Royal Hotel, where we have an excellent dinner, with soups, fish, etc., and all in good order; port and sherry till half-past seven, then coffee, and we go to the Society. This has great influence in keeping up the attendance, it being found that this preface of a good dinner, to be paid for whether you partake or not, brings out many a philosopher who might not otherwise have attended the Society. Harry Mackenzie, now in his eighty-second or third year, read part of an Essay on Dreams…’

Pulling from Scott’s journal today (December 5^th), Walter Scott said of Author Henry MacKenzie’s “The Man of the World, that it was "constantly obedient to his moral sense".  One gets a sense of Mackenzie’s moral thinking in a letter he wrote to The Mirror on the topic of dreams:

‘N74- Saturday, January 22. 1780.

To the Author of the Mirror. 

 
Sir,

IN my last, I hinted that dreams may be useful as physical admonitions. What if I should go a step further, and say, that they may be serviceable as means of our moral improvement? I will not affirm, however, as some have done, that, by them, we may make a more accurate discovery of our temper and ruling passions, than by observing what passes in our minds when awake: For, in sleep, we are very incompetent judges of ourselves, and of every thing else; and one will dream of committing crimes with little remorse, which, if awake, one could not think of without horror. But, as many of our passions are inflamed ;or allayed by the temperature of the body, this, I think, may be said with truth, that, by attending to what passes in sleep, we may sometimes discern what passions are predominant, and, consequently, receive some useful cautions for the regulation of them. A man dreams, for example, that he is in a violent anger, and that he strikes a blow, which knocks a person down, and kills him. He awakes in horror at the thought of what he has done, and of the punishment he thinks he has reason to apprehend; and while, after a moment's recollection, he rejoices to find that it is but a. dream, he will also be inclinable to form resolutions against violent anger, lest it should one time or other hurry him on to a real perpetration of a like nature. If we ever derive this advantage from a dream, we cannot pronounce it useless. And this, or a similar advantage, may sometimes be derived from dreaming. For why may we not in this way reap improvement from a fiction of our own fancy, as well as from a novel, or a fable of Æsop?...’

James I Released

‘The terms on which the treaty for the freedom of James I. was at last fixed were, on the whole, liberal rather than otherwise. The English demanded, and the Scots agreed to pay, forty thousand pounds sterling—not as ransom, as the use of that obnoxious phrase could not apply to the case of an innocent boy taken without defence in time of truce, but to defray what was delicately termed the expenses of Prince James's support and education. Six years were allowed for the discharge of the sum by half-yearly payments. It was a part of the contract that the Scottish king should marry an English lady of rank; and his choice fell upon Joanna, niece of Richard II. by the mother's side, and by her father, John, duke of Somerset, the granddaughter of the Duke of Lancaster, called John of Gaunt. To this young lady, so nearly connected with the English royal family, the Scottish captive had been attached for some time, and had celebrated her charms in poetry of no mean order, although defaced by the rudeness of the obsolete language. They were married in London; and a discharge for ten thousand pounds, the fourth part of the stipulated ransom, was presented to the Scottish king, as the dowry or portion of his bride. The royal pair were then sent down to Scotland with all respect and dignity, and Murdach, the late regent, had the honor to induct his royal cousin into the throne of his forefathers.’

According to Rampant Scotland, the Treaty of London, releasing James I of Scotland from captivity in England, was signed on December 4, 1423.  The text above comes from Walter Scott’s “Scotland”.

Battle of Hohenlinden

‘…In the action of Haag, the Archduke John, whose credit in the army almost rivalled that of his brother Charles, obtained considerable advantages; and, encouraged by them, he ventured on the 3d of December 1800, two days afterwards, a great and decisive encounter with Moreau. This was the occasion on which that general gained over the Austrians the bloody and most important victory of Hohenlinden, an achievement which did much to keep his reputation for military talents abreast with that of the First Consul himself. Moreau pursued his victory, and obtained possession of Salzburg….’

From “The Life of Napoleon Buonaparte” comes Walter Scott’s treatment of Jean Moreau’s military success against Archduke John of Austria.  After Hohenlinden, it was less than two months until the Treaty of Luneville was signed between France and Austria.  The Battle of Hohenlinden took place on December 3^rd, 1800.

On the North Bridge

One of the New York City area news stories today involves a man who sawed through cell tower cables to disrupt transmission, and thereby express his dissatisfaction with a newly built cell tower in his neighborhood.  Others in this man's neighborhood complained that the cell tower had sprung up virtually overnight, with no public hearings concerning its construction.   Development issues are nothing new, and Lord Henry Cockburn records in his memoirs that on December 2^nd, 1817, a public hearing was held concerning the erection of the North Bridge Buildings in Edinburgh.  Per Cockburn’s history, public meetings were not common at that point.

‘The new street along the southern side of the Calton Hill disclosed some glorious prospects, or at least exhibited them from new points. One of these was the view westward, over the North Bridge. But we had only begun to perceive its importance, when its interception by what are now called the North Bridge Buildings raised our indignation; and we thought that the magistrates, who allowed them to be set agoing in silence, had betrayed ns. We were therefore very angry, and had recourse to another of these new things called public meetings, which we were beginning to feel the power of. It was held on the 2d of December 1817. Professor Playfair presided; this being, I suppose, the only time in his life on which that unobtrusive and gentle philosopher permitted himself to be placed in such a position. James Stuart of Dunearn explained the matter in a clear and sensible speech. Old Henry Mackenzie made his first appearance at such a meeting, saying that, though no speaker, it was impossible to submit in silence to the destruction of the town, and that “facit indignatio versum." Resolutions were passed, a subscription opened, and we went to law, where we got an ornate speech from Cranstoun, who recited " my own romantic town" to the Court. But this was all we got. For while the judges were looking rather favourable, our funds ebbed, and of course our ardour cooled. Then persons of taste began to hint that we were all wrong, and that the position of the buildings was beautiful; and at last another meeting was held in May 1818, when we struck our colours. So we lost about £1000; the magistrates got a fright; and the buildings stand. But much good was done by the clamour. Attention was called nearly for the first time, to the duty of maintaining the beauty of Edinburgh. A respectable and organized resistance of municipal power was new here, and the example was not lost, though the immediate object of the battle was.’

North Bridge was, of course, a familiar site to Walter Scott.  J.G. Lockhart mentions in his “Memoirs of the life of Sir Walter Scott” an instance of Scott mulling over poetry while on the bridge:

‘…Not long before this piece began to be handed about in Edinburgh, Thomas Campbell had made his appearance there, and at once seized a high place in the literary world by his 'Pleasures of Hope.' Among the most eager to welcome him had been Scott; and I find the brotherbard thus expressing himself concerning the MS. of Cadyow :—

'' The verses of Cadyow Castle are perpetually ringing in my imagination—

'Where mightiest of the beasts of chase

That roam in woody Caledon,
Crashing the forest in his race,
The mountain bull comes thundering on—'

and the arrival of Hamilton, when

'Reeking from the recent deed,

He dashed his carbine on the ground.'

I have repeated these lines so often on the North Bridge that the -whole fraternity of coachmen know me by tongue as I pass. To be sure, to a mind in sober, serious street-walking humour, it must bear an appearance of lunacy when one stamps with the hurried pace and fervent shake of the head, which strong, pithy poetry excites."

Anna Comnena

‘…In short, the Princess Anna Comnena, high in rank as she was, and born in the imperial purple, which she herself deemed the first of all attributes, felt herself, nevertheless, in preparing to resume the recitation of her history, more anxious to obtain the approbation of this rune soldier, than that of all the rest of the courteous audience…’

Anna Comnena (or Komnene) is an important character in Walter Scott’s “Count Robert of Paris” (text above).  Scott consulted her “Alexiad”, which was a history of her father Alexius I’s reign in Byzantium, in the writing of this novel. Princess Comnena was born on December 1, 1083.