Waverley laid aside—Rokeby—Excitement at Oxford—Ballantyne's Dinner—Scott's Idea of Byron as a Poet—Ballantyne's Mismanagement—Aid from Constable—Loan from the Duke—Scott decides to finish Waverley.
On his return from the Hebrides, while rummaging one morning for flies in an old desk, Scott came upon a manuscript, long since laid aside, containing the first two or three chapters of Waverley. It was now taken out, and shown to James Ballantyne. But he was only faintly confident of success, and the packet containing Cæsar's fortunes was again laid by.
The poem of Rokeby occupied Scott in 1812. In Edinburgh we see James Ballantyne again reading from the sheets to his select circle of critics. The effect is not quite satisfactory. The Lady of the Lake has spoiled Edinburgh. Enthusiasm is gone. But not so in England. Look at this picture of Lockhart's: 'I well remember, being in those days a young student at Oxford, how the booksellers' shops there were beleaguered for the earliest copies, and how he that had been so fortunate as to secure one was followed to his chambers by a tribe of friends, all as eager to hear it read as ever horse-jockeys were to see the conclusion of a race at Newmarket; and indeed not a few of those enthusiastic academics had bets depending on the issue of the struggle, which they considered the elder favourite as making to keep his own ground against the fiery rivalry of Childe Harold.'
All anxiety as to the sale of Rokeby was soon allayed. The three thousand quartos of the first edition were exhausted on the day of publication, the 13th of January 1813. Scott's letter to his friend Morritt, the proprietor of Rokeby, shows relief. He mentions Ballantyne's 'christening dinner,' and gaily wishes 'we could whistle you here to-day.' These dinners were great events, 'at which the Duke of Buccleuch and a great many of my friends are formally feasted. He has always the best singing that can be heard in Edinburgh, and we have usually a very pleasant party, at which your health as patron and proprietor of Rokeby will be faithfully and honourably remembered.' By Morritt at least Rokeby was considered a masterpiece.
The comparison of Scott and Byron, and the popular pitting of the one against the other, was inevitable. The first two cantos of Childe Harold, published in March 1812, had obtained a marvellous success. It was of this that Byron said, 'I awoke one morning, and found myself famous.' In such popularity Scott alone was his rival. But the two poets equally disapproved the talk of competition. Speaking of a debate of this kind between Murray and Ellis, Byron said, 'If they want to depose Scott, I only wish they would not set me up as a competitor. I like the man, and all such stuff can only vex him, and do me no good.' In this manly spirit he might have spoken for both.
No one appreciated more fully than did Scott the genius of the author of Childe Harold. He seems from the first sight of that poem to have been satisfied in his own mind of Byron's pre-eminent powers in poetry. He had no desire, as he says, 'to measure his force with so formidable an antagonist,' but he determined to go on with the work he had planned, and already it is evident that his thoughts were turning vaguely towards some other literary form, in which the youthful ardour which he thought was cooling might be less essential to success.
In this year of commercial panic, 1813, Scott began to experience the worries and discomforts which flow from a speculative commercial adventure shamelessly neglected by a reckless and incompetent 'manager.' The crisis was already bringing the less substantial publishing houses into danger, and the firm of John Ballantyne and Co. was soon reduced to extremity. Two features are mentioned by Lockhart which sufficiently show how well fitted John Ballantyne was to organise disaster: his blind recklessness in regard to bills—he never looked beyond the passing day—and his absolute neglect to keep the moneyed partner informed of his obligations and of the state of the firm's resources. In Lockhart's opinion the concern must have gone to pieces at this time but for the reconciliation with Constable. He relieved Ballantyne of part of his stock, on the understanding that the firm should, as soon as possible, be finally wound up. In these distressing affairs it is too sadly easy to understand the whole drama. From his beautiful and now unspeakably touching letters we can picture the good soft-hearted gentleman crediting the adventurer with all his own unselfishness and fine sensitiveness, pointing out with an apology errors of conduct which deserved immediate dismissal with disgrace, and lamenting possible consequences to him, to the needy ruined adventurer who had found a haven of refuge in a business to which he had actually brought no capital at all. To make a phrase out of Spencerian jargon, Scott was the dupe of automorphism. His sense of duty to the imaginary Ballantynes made him the victim of the actual ones. He ought at this time to have kicked both of them out, put the affairs of both concerns into the hands of professional accountants, and considered the situation. But there was the secrecy as well as the automorphic delusion. Then he went on, of course, buying land. He was making money, and he ought to have been able to spend. But if a genius can make one fortune, a reckless trifler can waste ten. It is dreadful even yet to think of Walter Scott, of all our great ones the best, slaving and dreaming innocent Alnaschar dreams, while a Ballantyne, without any toil at all, is piling up mountains of debt to overwhelm him. By the end of the year, John's calls upon Scott necessitated more help from Constable and a loan to Scott from the Duke of Buccleuch of £4000. The publishing business was to be given up at once, and the amateur publisher was to start as an auctioneer of books and curios. During this time of vexation and worry, Scott was constantly engaged in toilsome and taxing labour on an edition and life of Swift, and also made a beginning with the Lord of the Isles. Just then, too, the fragment of Waverley turned up once more. He read it, judged it this time for himself without advice, and decided to finish it.
CHAPTER XLVIII
Success of the Allies—Address to the King—Freedom of Edinburgh—Edition of Swift—Printing of Waverley—Mystery of Authorship—Edinburgh Guesses—Excellent Review by Jeffrey—Scott's 'gallant composure'—Success of the Novel.
'O, dread was the time, and more dreadful the omen,
When the brave on Marengo lay slaughtered in vain,
And beholding broad Europe bow'd down by her foemen,
Pitt closed in his anguish the map of her reign.'