Showing posts with label June 15. Show all posts
Showing posts with label June 15. Show all posts

Friday, June 15, 2012

Magna Carta


‘…The wise and attentive precautions adopted for his safety touched
Richard's feelings, and removed any slight grudge which he might retain
on account of the deception the Outlaw Captain had practised upon him.
He once more extended his hand to Robin Hood, assured him of his full
pardon and future favour, as well as his firm resolution to restrain the
tyrannical exercise of the forest rights and other oppressive laws, by
which so many English yeomen were driven into a state of rebellion. But
Richard's good intentions towards the bold Outlaw were frustrated by the
King's untimely death; and the Charter of the Forest was extorted
from the unwilling hands of King John when he succeeded to his heroic
brother…’

King John, or John Lackland, takes part in Walter Scott’s “Ivanhoe”, from which the passage above is taken.  John is remembered for putting his seal to the Magna Carta, on June 15, 1215.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

William Julius Mickle

'On Monday, June 14, and Tuesday, 15, Dr. Johnson and I dined, on one of them, I forget which, with Mr. Mickle, translator of the Lusiad, at Wheatley, a very pretty country place a few miles from Oxford; and on the other with Dr. Wetherell, Master of University College. ....'

This entry from Boswell's "Life of Johnson" was took place in the year Johnson died; 1784.  “The Lusiad or The Discovery of India" was an epic poem written by Luis de Camoes.  Mickle dedicated his 1776 translation to a friend of Sir Walter Scott’s - Henry Scott, the 3rd Duke of Buccleuch.

My Lord,
The first idea of offering my Lusiad to some distinguished personage, inspired the earnest wish, that it might be accepted by the illustrious representative of that family under which my father, for many years, discharged the duties of a clergyman.

Both the late Duke of Buccleugh, and the Earl of Dalkeith, distinguished him by particular marks of their favour; and I must have forgotten him, if I could have wished to offer the first Dedication of my literary labours to any other than the Duke of Buccleugh.

I am, with the greatest respect,
My Lord,
Your Grace's most devoted
And most obedient humble servant,

WILLIAM JULIUS MICKLE


Sir Walter Scott mentions Mickle in his Introductory Remarks on Popular Poetry, in the 1830 publication of his “Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border”:

 ‘Of Ritson's own talents as an editor of ancient poetry, we shall have occasion to speak hereafter. The first collector who followed the example of Dr. Purr, was Mr. T. Evans, bookseller, father of the gentleman we have just quoted. His 'Old Ballads, historical narrative, with some of modern date, appeared in two volumes, in 1777, and were eminently successful. In 1T84, a. second edition appeared, extending the work to four volumes. In this collection many ballads found acceptance, which Bishop Percy had not considered as possessing sufficient merit to claim admittance into the Reliques The 8vo. Miscellany of 1723 yielded a great part of  the materials. The collection of Evans contained several modern pieces of great merit, which are not to be found elsewhere, and which are understood to be the productions of William Julius Mickle, translator of the Lusiad, though they were never claimed by him, nor received among his works. Amongst them is the elegiac poem of Cumnor Hall, which suggested the fictitious narrative entitled Kenilworth. The Red-Cross Knight, also by Mickle, which has furnished words for a beautiful glee, first occurred in the same collection. As Mickle, with a vein of great facility, united a power of verbal melody which might have been envied by bards of much greater renown, he must be considered as very successful in these efforts, if the ballads be regarded as avowedly modern. If they are to be judged of as accurate imitations of ancient poetry, they have less merit: the deception being only maintained by a huge store of double consonants, strewed at random into ordinary words, resembling the real fashion of antiquity as little as the niches, turrets, and tracery of plaster stuck upon a modern front.’

Scott dedicated this publication to the 5th Duke of Buccleuch, Walter Francis Montagu Douglas Scott:

TO HIS GRACE
WALTER FRANCIS MONTAGU DOUGLAS SCOTT,
DUKE OF BUCCLEUCH AND QUEENSBERRY,

&c. &c. &c. My Lord Duke,
In inscribing these volumes* to your Grace, I am fortunately emancipated from the necessity of intruding upon you the commonplace subjects of dedication. Most of these Poems have been long before the public, and were inscribed, at the time of their publication, to the various excellent persons nearly connected with your Grace, whose names they retain. I am, therefore, well aware, that these compositions, of little intrinsic value in themselves, will, like other memorials of dear friends, who have been removed from the world, claim some value in your Grace's estimation, from the names of their former patrons.

May your Grace live long to exercise the virtues of your predecessors, whose duties you inherit along with their rank and possessions. Such is the sincere wish of, My Lord Duke,
Your Grace's early Friend,
And much obliged humble Servant,
WALTER SCOTT. Abbotsford, April 3, 1830.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Thomas Campbell

Another of Scott's literary connections, the Glasgow poet Thomas Campbell died on June 15, 1844.  Campbell's first strongly popular work was "The Pleasures of Hope", which was published in 1799, six months after Coleridge and Wordsworth published Lyrical Ballads.  In 1803, Campbell married his cousin Matilda Sinclair, settling in London, which was to become and important location for the rest of his life. 

One of Campbell's projects was "Specimens of British Poets" which was published in 1819, but started many years early.  This project led him to communicate with Walter Scott, as on June 28, 1805 (from http://spenserians.cath.vt.edu/CommentRecord.php?&action=GET&cmmtid=4388):

Sydenham, June 28th, 1805.



DEAR SCOTT,


In the belief that we should be able to accommodate easily between ourselves, any difference of opinion we might have about the plan of the British Poets, I took the liberty of acting as your representative in submitting proposals to the trade. I proposed the work to be edited in volumes similar to Dr. Anderson's, (only) in size — the number of volumes about fifteen, plus or minus; Johnson's Poets, with their lives, to be the centre of the work: your ancient Poets, antecedent to Cowley, to be the right wing; and my department, the moderns since Johnson, with Ramsay, whom Johnson omitted, to be the left flank of the whole. I thought the Poets before Cowley could not be fewer than fifteen; nor do I think any rational Christian critic can diminish the number; and, to be responsible for giving a body of English Poetry since the period at which Johnson leaves off, I would not wish to be stinted to a much smaller calculation. It is true there is not the tenth part of Poets — real and spirit-proof-Poets, in the few years of this period that may be found in yours; but we are bound with the moderns, as with near relations, to take notice of smaller recommendations than would carry weight from remoter consanguinity. I must have Ramsay, who is one of my chief favourites — Burns, Cowper, Mason, Goldsmith, Darwin, Smollett, Falconer, Churchill, Armstrong, Logan, Green, T. Warton, Chatterton, and I suppose Michael Bruce, and surely Beattie. Besides, with what propriety, even if some of these worthies were unnicked, could I pretend to be the editor of Modern Poetry, and omit Langhorne, Wilkie, Mickle, Glover, Penrose, and Johnson himself? Penrose is author of one of the very finest poems in the English language — "The Field of Battle." How far below fifteen could you reduce the list? I submitted my proposal of a lumping thousand to the proprietors of the Johnson edition. Some of the more liberal booksellers stood the shock very well, but among the herd of the lower tribe, the proposal fell like a bombshell, and made them disperse in great alarm. I proposed to divide our labour and profits. Cadell and Davies were sorry for the vote being against me, and I believe would give the sum; but the general opinion was, that I should be exhorted to devise a plan with you, comprehending fewer poets and of less cost.

The time also alarmed them; for I demanded not to be bound to finish my part under eighteen months. Books, I think, are not to be promised by the calendar; so I am recommended to concert a new plan... . But how can I propose to you to stint your plan to the narrowed limits they require, after drawing off your attention from a great design of your own? How many below the mark of fifteen, is it possible or probable that you will reduce the number of poets in the prodigious space of time between Chaucer and Cowley? or how much, below the sum of £500 a-piece, is it fair for us to reduce remuneration? For my own part, I know the pestering trouble of picking up anecdotes about the moderns will occupy my time for a year.... It will certainly cost me journeys to Oxford, Scotland, and elsewhere. Now, I have a still higher idea of the importance of your taste. As a joint concern, your reputation is at stake....

I mean to be quite obstinate on this subject. I will not abate a farthing in my demand. I wish to have your sanction, in rejection of their proposal to put the great plan of our national poetry and poetical biography on a dirty little scale. The upshot will probably be breaking off on the difference of terms; and then your old arrangement with Constable will probably discourage competition. I shall in that case embark in a scheme on which I have for some time cogitated — a Collection of genuine Irish Music, and translations from the Irish, adapted as words, to which I can obtain access. Do you think it will do? I will transcribe a little song, which I mean to belong to the collection, though the subject is Gaelic.


Pray can you direct me where to find some good notes for Lochiel's Warning? I shall be much obliged to you to mention this when you write.

Believe me, with great sincerity, your affectionate friend,



T. CAMPBELL