Walter Scott - The Man Behind the Books. Walter Scott
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o’clock went to a Mr. Mackenzie in my old house at Castle Street, to have some touches given to Walker’s print. Afterwards, having young Hogg with me as an amanuensis, I took to the oar till near ten o’clock.
May 31. — Being a Court day I was engaged very late. Then I called at the printing-house, but got no exact calculation how we come on. Met Mr. Cadell, who bids, as the author’s copy [money] 1s. profit on each book of Hugh Littlejohn. I thought this too little. My general calculation is on such profits, that, supposing the book to sell to the public for 7s. 6d., the price ought to go in three shares — one to the trade, one to the expense of print and paper, and one to the author and publisher between them, which of course would be 1s. 3d., not 1s. to the author. But in stating this rule I omitted to observe that books for young persons are half bound before they go out into the trade. This comes to about 9d. for two volumes. The allowance to the trade is also heavy, so that 1s. a book is very well on great numbers. There may besides be a third volume.
Dined at James Ballantyne’s, and heard his brother Sandy sing and play on the violin, beautifully as usual. James himself sang the Reel of Tullochgorum, with hearty cheer and uplifted voice. When I came home I learned that we had beat the Coal Gas Company, which is a sort of triumph.
June
June 1. — Settled my household-book. Sophia does not set out till the middle of the week, which is unlucky, our antiquarian skirmish beginning in Fife just about the time she is to arrive. Letter from John touching public affairs; don’t half like them, and am afraid we shall have the Whig alliance turn out like the calling in of the Saxons. I told this to Jeffrey, who said they would convert us, as the Saxons did the British. I shall die in my Paganism for one. I don’t like a bone of them as a party. Ugly reports of the King’s health; God pity this poor country should that be so, but I think it a thing devised by the enemy. Anne arrived from Abbotsford. I dined at Sir Robert Dundas’s, with Mrs. Dundas, Arniston, and other friends. Worked a little, not much.
June 2. — Do. Do. Dined at Baron Hume’s. These dinners are cruelly in the way, but que faut-il faire? the business of the Court must be done, and it is impossible absolutely to break off all habits of visiting. Besides, the correcting of proof-sheets in itself is now become burdensome. Three or four a day is hard work.
June 3. — Wrought hard. I think I have but a trifle more to do, but new things cast up; we get beyond the life, however, for I have killed him to-day. The newspapers are very saucy; The Sun says I have got £4000 for suffering a Frenchman to look over my manuscript. Here is a proper fellow for you! I wonder what he thinks Frenchmen are made of — walking moneybags, doubtless. Now as Sir Fretful Plagiary says, another man would be mad at this, but I care not one brass farthing.
June 4. — The birthday of our good old king. It was wrong not to keep up the thing as it was of yore with dinners, and claret, and squibs, and crackers, and saturnalia. The thoughts of the subjects require sometimes to be turned to the sovereign, were it but only that they may remember there is such a person.
The Bannatyne edition of Melville’s Memoirs is out, and beats all print. Gad, it is a fine institution that; a rare one, by Jove! beats the Roxburghe. Wrought very bobbishly to-day, but went off at dinner-time to Thomas Thomson, where we had good cheer and good fun. By the way, we have lost our Coal Gas Bill. Sorry for it, but I can’t cry.
June 5. — Proofs. Parliament House till two. Commenced the character of Bonaparte. Tomorrow being a Teind-day I will hope to get it finished. Meantime I go out tonight to see Frankenstein at the theatre.
June 6. — Frankenstein is entertaining for once — considerable art in the man that plays the Monster, to whom he gave great effect. Cooper is his name; played excellently in the farce too, as a sailor — a more natural one, I think, than my old friend Jack Bannister, though he has not quite Jack’s richness of humour. I had seven proof-sheets to correct this morning, by Goles. So I did not get to composition till nine; work on with little interruption (save that Mr. Verplanck, an American, breakfasted with us) until seven, and then walked, for fear of the black dog or devil that worries me when I work too hard.
June 7. — This morning finished Boney. And now, as Dame Fortune says, in Quevedo’s Visions, Go, wheel, and the devil drive thee. It was high time I brought up some reinforcements, for my pound was come to half-crowns, and I had nothing to keep house when the Lockharts come. Credit enough to be sure, but I have been taught by experience to make short reckonings. Some great authors now will think it a degradation to write a child’s book; I cannot say I feel it such. It is to be inscribed to my grandson, and I will write it not only without a sense of its being infra dig. but with a grandfather’s pleasure.
I arranged with Mr. Cadell for the property of Tales of a Grandfather, 10,000 copies for £787, 10s.
June 8. — A Mr. Maywood, much protected by poor Alister Dhu, brought me a letter from the late Colonel Huxley. His connection and approach to me is through the grave, but I will not be the less disposed to assist him if an opportunity offers. I made a long round to-day, going to David Laing’s about forwarding the books of the Bannatyne Club to Sir George Rose and Duke of Buckingham. Then I came round by the printing-office, where the presses are groaning upon Napoleon, and so home through the gardens. I have done little to-day save writing a letter or two, for I was fatigued and sleepy when I got home, and nodded, I think, over Sir James Melville’s Memoirs. I will do something, though, when I have dined. By the way, I corrected the proofs for Gillies; they read better than I looked for.
June 9. — Corrected proofs in the morning. When I came home from Court I found that John Lockhart and Sophia were arrived by the steamboat at Portobello, where they have a small lodging. I went down with a bottle of Champagne, and a flask of Maraschino, and made buirdly cheer with them for the rest of the day. Had the great pleasure to find them all in high health. Poor Johnny is decidedly improved in his general health, and the injury on the spine is got no worse. Walter is a very fine child.
June 10. — Rose with the odd consciousness of being free of my daily task. I have heard that the fishwomen go to church of a Sunday with their creels new washed, and a few stones in them for ballast, just because they cannot walk steadily without their usual load. I feel somewhat like this, and rather inclined to pick up some light task, than to be altogether idle. I have my proof-sheets, to be sure; but what are these to a whole day? Fortunately my thoughts are agreeable; cash difficulties, etc., all provided for, as far as I can see, so that we go on hooly and fairly. Betwixt and August 1st I should receive £750, and I cannot think I have more than the half of it to pay away. Cash, to be sure, seems to burn in my pocket. “He wasna gien to great misguiding, but coin his pouches wouldna bide in.” By goles, this shall be corrected, though! Lockhart gives a sad account of Gillies’s imprudences. Lockhart dined with us. Day idle.
June 11. — The attendance on the Committee, and afterwards the general meeting of the Oil Gas Company took up my morning, and the rest dribbled away in correcting proofs and trifling; reading, among the rest, an odd volume of Vivian Grey; clever, but not so much so as to make me, in this sultry weather, go upstairs to the drawingroom to seek the other volumes. Ah! villain, but you smoked when you read. — Well, Madam, perhaps I think the better of the book for that reason. Made a blunder, — went to Ravelston on the wrong day. This Anne’s fault, but I did not reproach her, knowing it might as well have been my own.
June 12. — At Court, a long hearing. Got home only about three. Corrected proofs, etc. Dined with Baron Clerk, and met several old friends; Will Clerk in particular.
June 13. — Another long seat at Court. Almost overcome by the heat in walking home, and rendered useless for the day. Let me be thankful, however; my lameness is much better, and the nerves of my unfortunate ankle are so much strengthened that I walk with comparatively little pain. Dined at John Swinton’s; a