The Waverley Novels. 331 When, however, his popularity as a poet began to decrease, and he was desirous of hitting upon a new vein wherewith to satisfy the capricious taste of the public, his thoughts reverted to the almost forgotten manuscript of "Waverley," and he determined to complete it. It was published anonymously in July 1814, the authorship being kept a strict secret lest the novel should prove a failure. Any such apprehension, however, was soon dispelled. With extraordinary rapidity it rose into an unprecedented degree of favour; everywhere it was talked. about, and everywhere eager discussions were carried on as to who the unknown author could be. Scott, however, jealously preserved his incognito, and the rapidly succeeding series of great fictions by him-"Guy Mannering," "The Antiquary," "Old Mortality," "Rob Roy," &c., &c.-bore on their title-pages simply "By the Author of 'Waverley."" Many supposed, on the appearance of the early volumes of the series, that Scott was the writer, and as time went on supposition gradually deepened into certainty; but he never publicly acknowledged his authorship till the state of his affairs compelled him to do it in 1827. It would be impossible to exaggerate the enthusiasm with which "Waverley" and its successors were welcomed. Carlyle, who lived through all the furore which they excited, shall describe it: "In the spring of 1814," he says, "appeared Waverley,' an event memorable in the annals of British literature, in the annals of British bookselling thrice and four times memorable. Byron sang, but Scott narrated; and when the song had sung itself out through all variations onwards to the 'Don Juan' one, Scott was still found narrating and carrying the whole world along with him. All bygone popularity of chivalry lays was swallowed up in a far greater. What 'series' followed out of 'Waverley,' and how and with what result, is known to all men-was witnessed and watched with a kind of rapt astonishment by all. Hardly any literary reputation ever rose so high in our island; no reputation at all ever spread so wide. Walter Scott became Sir Walter Scott, Baronet, of 1 Incorrect. See above. Abbotsford, on whom fortune seemed to pour her whole cornucopia of wealth, honour, and worldly good, the favourite of princes and of peasants and all intermediate men. His 'Waverley' series, swift following one on the other apparently without end, was the universal reading; looked for like an annual harvest, by all ranks, in all European countries." The vast sums Scott received for the novels which he produced with such extraordinary rapidity and with so little apparent exertion, naturally led him to regard his literary powers as a boundless mine of wealth, which it was scarcely possible for him to exhaust. Hence he went on "adding field to field," buying, often at extravagant prices, any tempting piece of land which he found in the market, and fitting up Abbotsford in a style of the most luxurious splendour. To the money thus spent must be added that expended in the exercise of a boundless hospitality. Scott and Abbotsford became sights which no Scottish tourist of any pretensions to rank or fame could omit; it was not unusual, we are told, for a dozen or more coach-loads to find their way into the grounds of the "Great Unknown" in the course of the day, most of whom found or forced an entrance into his mansion. There could be no better proof of Scott's thorough healthiness of character and freedom from all those petty vices which are commonly supposed to belong to the literary profession, than the manner in which he conducted himself while "lionised" above any one before or since. He took the praises copiously bestowed on him for what they were worth, pleased with them, no doubt, but nowise unduly elated; was gratified when among the crowd of his visitors he found any of talent and good sense with whom it was a pleasure to converse; and regarded the numerous specimens of folly and presumption whom he was compelled to put up with, not with indignation or bitterness, but with a humorous appreciation of their character which left little room for anger or contempt. For many of the honours bestowed on literature Scott cared little. He on several occasions declined the degree of D.C.L., offered him by the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge; and the higher distinction of a baronetcy, conferred on him in 1820, was chiefly gratifying to him, not because he cared for the title himself, but because it pleased his family pride to think that Abbotsford would henceforth be occupied by a race of baronets. One of the most striking features of Scott's character was the indomitable tenacity with which he went on with whatever literary task he had in hand. Few and far between were the occasions when, however busily engaged otherwise, his daily literary task was left uncompleted. As a rule, he rose betimes in the morning, and had his little parcel of "copy" ready before the other members of the house were astir. But as to time and place of composition he was nearly indifferent; and though, like many great authors, he preferred to write in the morning hours, it cost him no great effort to carry on the work in which he was engaged at almost any time or under almost any circumstances. "When once I set my pen to the paper," he wrote to his friend Morritt, "it will walk fast enough. I am sometimes tempted to leave it alone and see whether it will not write as well without the assistance of my hand as with it. A hopeful prospect for the reader." When a friend asked him how, amidst such a constant whirl of various occupations as occupied him, he managed to write so much, he replied, "Oh, I lie simmering over things for an hour or so before I get up, and there's the time I am dressing to overhaul my half-sleeping, half-waking projet de chapitre, and when I get the paper before me, it commonly runs off pretty easily. Besides, I often take a doze in the plantations, and, while Tom [Purdie, his faithful attendant] marks out a dyke or drain, one's fancy may be running its ain rigs in some other world." Well was it for Scott that in the days of his prosperity he accustomed himself to perform his daily task. cheerfully under difficulties which would have utterly discomfited a less strenuous worker. The time came too soon when his fair prospects of wealth and prosperity were to prove to be mere castles of cards, destined to tumble into the dust at the first stroke of adversity. The commercial whirlwind of 1825-26, which shook down so many apparently prosperous commercial fabrics, proved fatal to Scott's prosperity as to that of many thousands of lesser men. Unknown to his friends, he had become a partner in the printing firm established in Edinburgh by his old friends the Ballantynes. The great Scottish publisher Constable, who, both by the magnitude and boldness of his plans and the brilliance of his publishing exploits, deserved the title Scott laughingly applied to him of "the great Napoleon of the realms of print," was compelled, after a brief but brave struggle, to succumb to the tide of ruin which could not but overwhelm him. He became bankrupt, and the Ballantyne firm soon followed suit. In February 1826 he found himself bankrupt—a debtor to the extent of over £120,000.1 The catastrophe was heavy; to most men it would have been a crushing one. Nothing in his life better shows his courage and his honesty than his behaviour under this great calamity. He determined that if his creditors would but grant him time they should be paid to the very uttermost farthing. "I am always ready," he said, "to make any sacrifice to do justice to my engagements, and would rather sell anything or everything than be less than a true man of my word." The estate of Abbotsford had, shortly before the crash, been secured to his son on the occasion of his marriage, so it was beyond the creditors' reach; but Scott's house and furniture in Edinburgh were sold by auction, and his personal effects at Abbotsford,-books, pictures, &c., were delivered over to be held in trust for his creditors. Having bound himself to limit the cost of his living to his official income, and to employ what he earned by his pen in liquidating his debts, Scott took second-rate lodgings in Edinburgh and began his Herculean task. "For many years," he said to a friend, "I have been accustomed to hard work, because I found it a pleasure; now, with all due respect for Falstaff's 1 For a statement of the business relations between Sir Walter Scott and the Ballantynes, see a "Refutation of the Misstatements and Calumnies contained in Mr. Lockhart's Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart., respecting the Messrs. Ballantyne. By the Trustees and Son of the late Mr. James Ballantyne." London: Longman & Co., 1838. Scott's "Life of Napoleon." 335 principle, nothing on compulsion,' I certainly will not shrink from work because it has become necessary." Misfortunes, it is said, never come singly, and the death of his wife, which followed soon after the ruin of his fortunes, intensified Scott's woes. Still he did not yield to despair. Day after day, despite his mental and bodily troubles, he diligently toiled on. The following entry in his diary for June 8, 1826, may be taken as typical of the rest: "Bilious and headache this morning. A dog howled all night, and left me little sleep. Poor cur! I daresay he had his distresses, as I have mine. I was obliged to make Dalgleish shut the windows when he appeared at half-past six as usual, and did not rise till nine. I have often deserved a headache in my younger days without having one, and nature is, I suppose, paying off old scores. Ay! but then the want of the affectionate care that used to be ready, with lowered voice and stealthy pace, to smooth the pillow and offer assistance,-gone-gone-for ever—ever— ever. Well, there is another world, and we'll meet free from the mortal sorrows and frail ties which beset us here. Amen! so be it. Let me change this topic with hand and head, and the heart must follow. I finished four pages to-day, headache, laziness, and all." Scott's first published work after the catastrophe which overwhelmed his fortunes was "Woodstock" (1826), which realised for his creditors over £8000. Then in the following year came his long "Life of Napoleon," written with almost incredible speed, of which the first and second editions brought £18,000. It is inaccurate and one-sided, interesting as having been written by Scott, but not of great value otherwise : "When the harness galls sore and the spurs his side goad, In two years, by incessant industry, Scott paid off £40,000 |