The anonymous voucher for this extraordinary charge which appears in the preface, was an after-thought of our historical scribe at the late hour of publication, when it must have occurred to him that the world would require the most positive testimony of such a foul forgery. It is remarkable that Oldmixon had already, in the body of his work, broadly embroidered the narrative. We may form some notion of the mode in which this impetuous writer composed history, blending his passions with his facts, by observing what he did in the present matter. In the text of his history we discover the tale solemnly worked up into a tragic scene of penitential remorse on a death-bed; and, still farther to appropriate and confirm the exciting narrative of this forgery, he had artfully bolstered it up by an accompanying anecdote. When Smith the poet had foisted in the description of Cataline, (or Cinna, as it is erroneously written in Clarendon,) one of the doctors slapped him on the back, exclaiming with an asseveration, “It will do!” And our historian proceeds: “The remorse he expressed for being concerned in this imposture were his last words.” He then declares that in the highly-finished portraits of Clarendon, “all likeness is lost in a barren superfluity of words, and the workings of a prejudiced imagination, where one may suppose the drawing was his own. But that there has been much daubing in some places, and more dirt in others, put in by his editors, is now incontestable. In those clumsy painters into whose hands his work fell, there is something so very false and base, that such coin could only come from a college mint.” Thus, inconsiderately, but not the less maliciously, Oldmixon filled his rapid page, and betrays his eagerness to snatch at any floating rumour or loose conversation, which he gives the world with the confidence, though he could not with the dignity, of historical truth. And it is this reckless abandonment of his pen in his post-haste and partial works of history, which must ever weaken our trust in those more interesting portions for whose authority he refers to unknown manuscripts; and the more so, when we often detect his maimed and warped, and even interpolated quotations; and farther, recollect that Oldmixon stands himself a convicted criminal at the bar of history, having been detected in interpolating the historian Daniel when employed as editor by Kennet, which sunk the value of the first edition of that historical collection.
How was this positive and particularising charge to be refuted? Years had elapsed, and Smith had never whispered such an important secret to any friend. The original manuscript had not yet appeared to confront the detractor, and to prove the fidelity of the editors. There are difficulties which truth cannot always surmount. It is not only easier to raise a falsehood than to prove a truth, but it is possible that there may be accidents which may wholly prevent the discovery of truth. Of an accusation made years after the event, and the persons no longer in existence, we may never be enabled to remove the objections which it has succeeded in raising.
From this calamity the History of Clarendon had a narrow escape. All the parties concerned were no longer in life, save one, who seemed as much lost to the world—Atterbury, forgotten in exile. The authenticity of the History of Clarendon was, however, the concern of literary Europe. Foreign journalists conveyed the astounding tale, assuring the literary exile that if he remained silent, the accusation must be considered as proved. The reply did not linger, for a simple fact demolished this inartificial fabric. Atterbury solemnly declared that he had never seen any manuscript of Lord Clarendon’s History; that he believed he had never exchanged a word in his life with Smith, whose habitual conduct was too loose to tolerate; and if that were true which Ducket had affirmed, that “Smith had died with a lie in his mouth.” Atterbury added some new information respecting the real editors, who were Dean Aldrich and Bishop Sprat, and the late Earl of Rochester, the son of Lord Clarendon.
This unexpected confutation from the sole survivor of the accused parties revived the dismayed Clarendonians. The cards had changed; and these in their turn called for a sight of that copy of Clarendon said to have been scored by Smith. Oldmixon, baffled and mortified, appealed to his communicator; the most idle prevarications were alleged; and Colonel Ducket even cavilled at the wording of the letter which Oldmixon had published. Both parties were anxious to fling the odium on the other, but neither had the honesty to retract the slander. We may believe that they were both convinced that the manuscript of Clarendon had been tampered with, but that neither could ascertain either the matter or the manner. Ducket died during their embarrassment, and to his last day persisted in confirming his account, and even furnishing fresh particulars, as Oldmixon assures us.
In this extraordinary history of the fate of a disputed manuscript, which all had inquired after, and none had found, an incident occurred which put to rout Oldmixon and the numerous objectors to its authenticity. Seven books of the Clarendon manuscripts at length were discovered lodged in the custody of a lawyer in Bartlett’s Buildings, Holborn, who was one of the executors of the second Earl of Clarendon; and, to the utter dismay of Oldmixon, the often-controverted passage of Hampden was to be seen in the original writing of the noble author. Several distinguished personages were admitted to consult the autograph; but when others applied, who came formally armed with an autograph letter of Lord Clarendon, to compare the writing with the manuscript, the lawyer was alarmed at the hostile investigation, and cautiously evaded an inspection by these eager inquirers, perhaps judging that whatever might be the consequence, the trouble was certain.
Oldmixon, in his last distress, persisted in declaring that he was not bound to trust in the genuineness of a manuscript of which he was refused the examination. It must be acknowledged, that any partial view of the Clarendon manuscript, seen by a few, was not sufficient to establish its authority with the public; and certainly till the recent edition by Dr. Bandinel appeared, admirably collated, the aspersions and surmises of the objectors to its genuineness had by no means been removed, and, we may add, were not wholly unfounded.
This history of the great work of Lord Clarendon would be imperfect did we not develope the real causes which so long continued to obscure the inquiry, and involve its mysterious publication in the most perplexing intricacy.
Lord Clarendon himself not only doubted the propriety of the publication, but had even consented to its suppression till a “fit season, which was not likely to be in the present age.” His elevated genius looked far onward to posterity. In his remarkable will, he recommended his sons to consult Archbishop Sancroft and Bishop Morley; and it was only his second son, the Earl of Rochester, who took an active part. The position of editors was as delicate as it was perilous, and it has been aptly described by the last editor, who at length has furnished us with a complete Clarendon. “The immediate descendants of the principal actors were alive; many were high in favour; others were connected by the closer links of friendship or alliance.” The change of a virulent epithet might be charitable, and spare the ulcerated memories of a family; and time, which blunts the keen edge of political animosities, might plead for the omission of “the unfavourable part of a character,” which happened to be rather of a domestic than of a public nature.
All these were important causes which perplexed the editorship of the History of Lord Clarendon; and there were also minor ones which operated on the publication. Difficulties occurred in the arrangement of the parts. The Earl hardly lived to revise his work; portions of the “Life” had been marked by him to be transferred to the “History.” The first transcript by Shaw, the secretary of the author, was discovered to be very incorrect. It was necessary that a fairer copy should repair the negligence of the secretary’s. Dean Aldrich read the proofs, and transmitted them to the Earl of Rochester, accompanied by the manuscript copy which the earl preserved. The corrections on the proofs were by his hand. Sprat, Bishop of Rochester, who then had the reputation of being the most skilful critic in our vernacular idiom, it appears, suggested some verbal alterations. But it was affirmed, that the Earl of Rochester had been so scrupulous in altering the style of his father, and so cautious not to allow of any variations from the original, that the strictures of Sprat had not been complied with, which however was not true; for though the Earl of Rochester would allow no hand but his own to correct the proofs, there were omissions and verbal alterations, and occasionally may be found what went far beyond the mere change of words or phrases.
The manuscript which Calamy saw at the press shows that the transcript, however fair, had required corrections, and probably some confusion had sometimes occurred in transferring passages from the “Life” into the “History.” This only can account for the reasonable suspicions of “The Curious Impertinent,” which part had been so gratuitously acted by the learned Doctor on this occasion, and evidently spread the first rumours of a corrupted or an altered text.