[405:1] Article on History by Mr. Macaulay. _Edinburgh Review_, xlvii.
p. 359.
[407:1] Printed in the Appendix of Voltaire et Rousseau, par Henry Lord
Brougham, p. 340.
[408:1] See the letters in Appendix. The French bibliographical works
of reference, which are in general very full, do not mention any
translation of the History of the Stuarts earlier than 1760, when
Querard and Brunet give the following:
Histoire de la Maison de Stuart sur le trône d'Angleterre,
jusqu'au détrônement de Jacques II. traduite de l'Anglois de
David Hume, (par L'Abbé Prévost.) Londres (Paris) 1760. 3
vols. in 4to.
The edition about to appear in Holland, which threw Le Blanc into
despair, seems to have been overlooked. This Prévost, or Prévôt, is the
well-known author of the "Histoire du Chevalier des Grieux et de Manon
Lescaut," which still holds its place in French popular literature,
though it bears but a small proportion to the bulk of his other
voluminous works which are forgotten. The authors of the Dictionnaire
Historique, say they find in his translation of Hume, "un air étranger,
un style souvent embarrassé, sémé d'Anglicismes, d'expressions peu
Françoises, de tours durs, de phrases louches et mal construites." This
abbé led an irregular life, being a sort of disgraced ecclesiastic, and
his death was singularly tragical. He had fallen by the side of a wood
in a fit of apoplexy. Being found insensible, he was removed as a dead
body to the residence of a magistrate, where a surgeon was to open the
body to discover the cause of death. At the first insertion of the
knife, a scream from the victim terrified all present: but it was too
late; the instrument had entered a vital part.
[408:2] Colonel Abercrombie.
[409:1] From the original at Kilravock.
[410:1] MS. R.S.E.
[411:1] "I presume this was 'Douglas;' and the expression, 'he now
discovers a great genius for the theatre,' I suppose was meant to imply
Mr. D. Hume's opinion of its being better fitted for the stage than
_Agis_."--_Mackenzie._
[411:2] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 102. The original in the MS.
R.S.E.
[413:1] "Lives of the Lindsays, or a Memoir of the Houses of Crawford
and Balcarres, by Lord Lindsay." Hume's correspondent was James, the
fifth earl. He had had the misfortune to be "out in the fifteen," and
though a zealous and hardy soldier, he in vain attempted to rise in the
army; and at last retiring in disgust, he betook himself to learned
leisure. In the pleasing work above referred to, he is thus
picturesquely described: "Though his aspect was noble, and his air and
deportment showed him at once a man of rank, yet there was no denying
that a degree of singularity attended his appearance. To his large
brigadier wig, which hung down with three tails, he generally added a
few curls of his own application, which I suspect would not have been
considered quite orthodox by the trade. His shoe, which resembled
nothing so much as a little boat with a cabin at the end of it, was
slashed with his pen-knife, for the benefit of giving ease to his honest
toes; here--there--he slashed it where he chose to slash, without an
idea that the world or its fashions had the smallest right to smile at
his shoe; had they smiled, he would have smiled too, and probably said,
'Odsfish! I believe it is not like other people's; but as to that, look,
d' ye see? what matters it whether so old a fellow as myself wears a
shoe or a slipper.'"
[414:1] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 175.
[416:1] He does not, however, mention it in any of the subsequent
editions of his History.
[417:1] Scott of Scotstarvet's Staggering State of Scots Statesmen.--A
collection of contemporary characters, drawn by a shrewd but bitter and
unscrupulous observer.
[417:2] MS. R.S.E.
[417:3] Evidently the Philosophical Society. It was instituted in 1731,
chiefly as a medical society; but, in 1739, its plan was so far
enlarged, as to admit of the above comprehensive denomination.
[418:1] Sic in MS.
[418:2] _Lit. Gazette_, 1822, p. 745. The original is in the MSS. R.S.E.
[419:1] This name changed to _Randolph_, after the first
representation.--_Mackenzie._
[420:1] Changed to _Norval_, before the tragedy was brought on the
stage.--_Mackenzie._
[420:2] Mackenzie's Account of Home, p. 100.
The following paper made its first appearance in _The Edinburgh Weekly
Chronicle_, a few years ago, when it was edited by Mr. Hislop, a
gentleman said to be well acquainted with theatrical matters. It is here
repeated, not as being believed, but because having excited some
attention when it first appeared, it found its way into some books
connected with Scottish literature.
"It may not be generally known, that the first rehearsal took place in
the lodgings in the Canongate, occupied by Mrs. Sarah Warde, one of
Digges's company; and that it was rehearsed by, and in presence of the
most distinguished literary characters Scotland ever could boast of. The
following was the cast of the piece on the occasion:--
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
Lord Randolph, Dr. Robertson, Principal, Edinburgh.
Glenalvon, David Hume, Historian.
Old Norval, Dr. Carlyle, Minister of Musselburgh.
Douglas, John Home, the Author.
Lady Randolph, Dr. Ferguson, Professor.
Anna, (the Maid,) Dr. Blair, Minister, High Church.
"The audience that day, besides Mr. Digges, and Mrs. Warde, were, the
Right Honourable Patrick Lord Elibank, Lord Milton, Lord Kames, Lord
Monboddo, (the two last were then only lawyers,) the Rev. John Steele
and William Home, ministers. The company, all but Mrs. Warde, dined
afterwards in the Erskine Club, in the Abbey."
The reader must take this statement at its own value, which he will
probably not consider high. The "cast," has no pretensions to be a
transcript of any contemporary document; for Dr. Robertson was not then
Principal of the University, but minister of the country parish of
Gladsmuir; and Ferguson was not a Professor, but an army chaplain, with
leave of absence, spending his time chiefly in Perthshire. Lord Kames,
spoken of as "only" a lawyer, had been raised to the bench in 1752.
[421:1] This last appears to have been suppressed. The publication of
the others is mentioned further on.
[422:1] MS. R.S.E.
[423:1] Account of John Home, p. 24.
[424:1] There is an amusing traditional anecdote, with which this
periodical has some connexion. Dr. Walter Anderson, minister of
Chirnside, having caught the fire of literary ambition, made the remark
to Hume, one afternoon when they had been enjoying the hospitalities of
Ninewells: "Mr. David, I daresay other people might write books too; but
you clever fellows have taken up all the good subjects. When I look
about me, I cannot find one unoccupied."--"What would you think, Mr.
Anderson," said Hume, in reply, "of a History of Croesus, king of Lydia?
This has never yet been written." Dr. Anderson was a man who understood
no jesting, and held no words as uttered in vain; so away he goes, pulls
down his Herodotus, and translates all the passages in the first book
relating to Croesus, with all the consultations of the oracles, and all
the dreams; only interweaving with them, from his own particular genius,
some very sage and lengthy remarks on the extent to which there was real
truth in the prophetic revelations of the Pythoness. This book, which is
now a great rarity, was reviewed with much gravity and kindness in _The
Edinburgh Review_. It was more severely treated in _The Critical
Review_, edited by Smollett, where it is said, "There is still a race of
soothsayers in the Highlands, derived, if we may believe some curious
antiquaries, from the Druids and Bards that were set apart for the
worship of Apollo. The author of the History before us may, for aught we
know, be one of these venerable seers, though we rather take him to be a
Presbyterian teacher, who has been used to expound apothegms that need
no explanation."
[427:1] Page 342. MS. R.S.E.
[427:2] The case of Sir John Leslie, see above, p. 89.
[428:1] Attributed to Dr. Blair by Tytler, (Life of Kames, i. 142,) as
well as by Mackenzie; as on the preceding page.
[429:1] Besides those mentioned above, the occasion seems to have called
forth some blasts of the trumpet, still better suited to split the ears
of the groundlings--such as "The Deist stretched on a Death-bed, or a
lively Portraiture of a Dying Infidel." The contemporary _Edinburgh
Review_, which carried on a guerilla warfare on the side of the
threatened philosophers, thus commences a notice of this production.
"This is a most extraordinary performance. The hero of it is an infidel,
'a humorous youth,' as the author describes him, 'a youth whose life was
one successive scene of pleasantry and humour: who laughed at
revelation, and called religion _priestcraft_ and _grimace_: a gay and
sprightly free-thinker. But yesterday,' says he 'this gay and sprightly
free-thinker _revelled_ his usual _round_ of gallantry and applause,
till, satiated at length, he staggered to bed devoid of sense and
reason.' We suppose, (continues the reviewer,) the author's meaning is,
that he went to bed very drunk.'"
[430:1] _Scots Magazine_, 1756, pp. 248, 280, where those who are
partial to such reading, will find a pretty clear abstract of the
debate. The General Assembly had its hands at that time pretty full. A
deadly dispute had arisen between the partisans of the old and new
church music, which is thus described in Ritchie's Life of Hume, p. 57:
"At this time the Scottish church was thrown into a general ferment by
an attempt to introduce the reformed music. In accomplishing this, the
most indecent scenes were exhibited. It was not uncommon for a
congregation to divide themselves into two parties, one of which, in
chaunting the psalms, followed the old, and the other the new mode of
musical execution; while the infidel, who was not in the habit of
frequenting the temple, now resorted to it, not for the laudable purpose
of repentance and edification, but from the ungodly motive of being a
spectator of the contest. . . . .
"During the present dispute, it was customary for the partisans of the
different kinds of music to convene apart, in numerous bodies, for the
purpose of practising, and to muster their whole strength on the
Sabbath. The moment the psalm was read from the pulpit, each side, in
general chorus, commenced their operations; and as the pastor and clerk,
or precentor, often differed in their sentiments, the church was
immediately in an uproar. Blows and bruises were interchanged by the
impassioned songsters, and, in many parts of the country, the most
serious disturbances took place."
They had, at the same time, to conduct the war against the tragedy of
Douglas, and the frequenters of the theatre. Home himself, as is well
known, escaped the odium of ecclesiastical punishment, by resigning his
ministerial charge. Order was then taken with those clergy who could not
resist being present on so memorable an occasion as the performance of a
great national tragedy, written by a member of their own body. Among
these the Rev. Mr. White of Libberton was subjected to the modified
punishment of a month's suspension from office, because 'he had attended
the representation only once, when he endeavoured to conceal himself in
a corner, to avoid giving offence.' _Scots Mag._ for 1757, p. 47.
[432:1] Ritchie says, (p. 79,) that he was in his eightieth year. One is
tempted to say with Lady Macbeth, "Who would have thought the old man
had so much blood in him." Besides these conflicts in Scotland, he was
conducting a war in England against Mallet, for the publication of
Bolingbroke's works.
[433:1] Word illegible.
[434:1] That such flowers were not confined to Aberdeen, may be seen in
the following passage of the "Carpentariana."
"Si l'on vouloit traduire les noms Grecs et Romains en François, on les
rendroit souvent ridicules. J'ai vu une traduction des épitres de
Cicéron à Atticus, imprimée chez Thiboust, en 1666, pag. 217, où
l'auteur est tombé dans cette faute ridicule, en traduisant cet endroit:
_Pridie autem apud me Crassipes fuerat_, Le jour précédent Gros-pied fut
chez moi. Véritablement _Crassipes_, veut dire Gros-pied, mais il est
ridicule de la traduire ainsi: et il ne faut jamais toucher aux noms
propres, soit qu'ils fassent un bon ou mauvais effet, rendus dans notre
langue. Un autre traducteur des épitres de Cicéron, lui fait dire,
Mademoiselle votre fille, Madame votre femme; et je me souviens d'un
auteur qui appelloit Brutus et Collatinus, les Bourgmestres de la ville
de Rome."
[435:1] Satis.
[435:2] Words obliterated.
[436:1] See above p. 393.
[436:2] Words obliterated by decay of the MS.
[437:1] Original at Kilravock.
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX A.
FRAGMENTS OF A PAPER IN HUME'S HANDWRITING, DESCRIBING THE DESCENT ON
THE COAST OF BRITTANY, IN 1746, AND THE CAUSES OF ITS FAILURE.[441:1]
The forces under Lieutenant General St. Clair consisted of
five battalions, viz. the first battalion of the 1st Royal,
the 5th Highlanders, 3d Brag's, 4th Richbell's, 2d Harrison's,
together with part of Frampton's, and some companies of
Marines, making in all about 4500 men. The fleet consisted of
__________. Though this army and fleet had been at first
fitted out for entering upon action in summer 1746, and making
conquest of Canada, it was found, after several vain efforts
to get out of the Channel, first under Commodore Cotes, then
under Admiral Listock, that so much time had been unavoidably
lost, from contrary winds and contrary orders, as to render it
dangerous for so large a body of ships to proceed thither. The
middle of May was the last day of rendezvous appointed at
Spithead; and in the latter end of August, the fleet had yet
got no farther than St. Helen's, about a league below it. It
is an observation, that in the latter end of autumn, or
beginning of winter, the north-west winds blow so furiously on
the coast of North America, as to render it always difficult,
and often impossible, for ships that set out late to reach any
harbour in those parts. Instances have been found of vessels
that have been obliged to take shelter from these storms, even
in the Leeward Islands. It was therefore become necessary to
abandon all thoughts of proceeding to America that season; and
as the transports were fitted out and fleet equipped at great
expense, an attempt was hastily made to turn them to some
account in Europe, during the small remainder of the summer.
The distress of the allies in Flanders demanded the more
immediate attention of the English nation and ministry, and
required, if possible, some speedy remedy. 'Twas too late to
think of sending the six battalions under General St. Clair,
to reinforce Prince Charles of Lorraine, who commanded the
armies of the allies; and their number was, besides, too
inconsiderable to hope for any great advantages from that
expedient. 'Twas more to be expected, that falling on the
parts of France, supposed to be defenceless and disarmed, they
might make a diversion, and occasion the sending a
considerable detachment from the enemy's army in Flanders. But
as time pressed, and allowed not leisure to concert and
prepare this measure, the Duke of Newcastle, Secretary of
State, hoped to find that General St. Clair had already
planned and projected some enterprise of this nature. He
formed this presumption on a hint which had been started very
casually, and which had been immediately dropped by the
General.
In the spring, when the obstructions and delays thrown in the
way of the American enterprise were partly felt and partly
foreseen, the Secretary, lamenting the great and, he feared,
useless expense to which the nation had been put by that
undertaking, gave occasion to the General to throw out a
thought, which would naturally occur in such a situation. He
said, "Why may you not send the squadron and troops to some
part of the coast of France, and at least frighten and alarm
them as they have done us; and, as all their troops are on the
Flanders and German frontiers, 'tis most probable that such an
alarm may make them recall some of them?" The subject was then
no farther prosecuted; but the King, being informed of this
casual hint of the General's, asked him if he had formed any
plan or project by which the service above-mentioned might be
effectuated. He assured his majesty that he had never so much
as thought of it; but that, if it was his pleasure, he would
confer with Sir John Ligonier, and endeavour to find other
people in London who could let him into some knowledge of the
coast of France. To this the King replied, "No, no; you need
not give yourself any trouble about it." And accordingly the
General never more thought of it, farther than to inform the
Duke of Newcastle of this conference with his majesty.
However, the Duke being willing that the person who was to
execute the undertaking should also be the projector of it, by
which means both greater success might be hoped from it, and
every body else be screened from reflection in case of its
miscarriage, desired, in his letter of the 22d of August, that
both the Admiral and General should give their opinion of such
an invasion; and particularly the General, who, having, he
said, formed some time ago a project of this nature, might be
the better prepared to give his thoughts with regard to it.
They both jointly replied, that their utter ignorance made
them incapable of delivering their sentiments on so delicate a
subject; and the General, in a separate letter, recalled to
the Duke's memory the circumstances of the story, as above
related.
Though they declined proposing a project, they both cheerfully
offered, that if his majesty would honour them with any plan
of operation for a descent, they would do their best to carry
it into execution. They hoped that the Secretary of State,
who, by his office, is led to turn his eyes every where, and
who lives at London, the centre of commerce and intelligence,
could better form and digest such a plan, than they who were
cooped up in their ships, in a remote sea-port town, without
any former acquaintance with the coast of France, and without
any possibility of acquiring new knowledge. They at least
hoped, that so difficult a task would not be required of them
as either to give their sentiments without any materials
afforded them to judge upon, or to collect materials, while
the most inviolable secrecy was strictly enjoined on them. It
is remarkable, that the Duke of Newcastle, among other
advantages proposed by this expedition, mentions the giving
assistance to such Protestants as are already in arms, or may
be disposed to rise on the appearance of the English, as if we
were living in the time of the League, or during the confusion
of Francis the Second's minority.
Full of these reflections, they sailed from St. Helens on the
23d of August, and arrived at Plymouth on the 29th, in
obedience to their orders, which required them to put into
that harbour for farther instructions. They there found
positive orders to sail immediately, with the first fair wind,
to the coast of France, and make an attempt on L'Orient, or
Rochefort, or Rochelle, or sail up the river of Bourdeaux; or,
if they judged any of these enterprises impracticable, to sail
to whatever other place on the western coast they should think
proper. Such unbounded discretionary powers could not but be
agreeable to commanders, had it been accompanied with better,
or indeed with any intelligence. As the wind was then
contrary, they had leisure to reply in their letters of the
29th and 30th. They jointly represented the difficulties, or
rather impossibilities, of any attempt on L'Orient, Rochefort,
and Rochelle, by reason of the real strength of these places,
so far as their imperfect information could reach; or, if that
were erroneous, by reason of their own absolute want of
intelligence, guides, and pilots, which are the soul of all
military operations.
The General, in a separate letter, enforced the same topics,
and added many other reflections of moment. He said, that of
all the places mentioned in his orders, Bourdeaux, if
accessible, appeared to him the properest to be attempted;
both as it is one of the towns of greatest commerce and riches
in France, and as it is the farthest situated from their
Flanders' army, and on these accounts an attack on it would
most probably produce the wished-for alarm and diversion. He
added, that he himself knew the town to be of no strength, and
that the only place there capable of making any defence, is
Chateau Trompette, which serves it as a citadel, and was
intended, as almost all citadels are, more as a curb, than a
defence, on the inhabitants. But though these circumstances
promised some success, he observed that there were many other
difficulties to struggle with, which threw a mighty damp on
these promising expectations. In the first place, he much
questioned if there was in the fleet any one person who had
been ashore on the western coast of France, except himself,
who was once at Bourdeaux; and he, too, was a stranger to all
the country betwixt the town and the sea. He had no single map
of any part of France on board with him; and what intelligence
he may be able to force from the people of the country can be
but little to be depended on, as it must be their interest to
mislead him. And if money prove necessary, either for
obtaining intelligence, carrying on of works, or even
subsisting the officers, he must raise it in the country; for,
except a few chests of Mexican dollars, consigned to other
uses, he carried no money with him. If he advanced any where
into the country, he must be at a very great loss for want of
horses to draw the artillery; as the inhabitants will
undoubtedly carry off as many of them as they could, and he
had neither hussars nor dragoons to force them back again. And
as to the preserving any conquests he might make, (of which
the Duke had dropped some hints,) he observed that every place
which was not impregnable to him, with such small force, must
be untenable by him. On the whole, he engaged for nothing but
obedience; he promised no success; he professed absolute
ignorance with regard to every circumstance of the
undertaking; he even could not fix on any particular
undertaking; and yet he lay under positive orders to sail with
the first fair wind, to approach the unknown coast, march
through the unknown country, and attack the unknown cities of
the most potent nation of the universe.
Meanwhile, Admiral Anson, who had put into Plymouth, and had
been detained there by the same contrary winds, which still
prevailed, had a conversation with the General and Admiral on
the subject of their enterprise. He told them, that he
remembered to have once casually heard from Mr. Hume, member
for Southwark, that he had been at L'Orient, and that, though
it be very strong by sea, it is not so by land. Though Mr.
Hume, the gentleman mentioned, be bred to a mercantile
profession, not to war, and though the intelligence received
from him was only casual, imperfect, and by second-hand, yet
it gave pleasure to the Admiral and General, as it afforded
them a faint glimmering ray in their present obscurity and
ignorance; and they accordingly resolved to follow it. They
wrote to the Duke of Newcastle, September the 3d, that 'twas
to L'Orient they intended to bend their course, as soon as the
wind offered. To remedy the ignorance of the coast and want of
pilots, as far as possible, Commodore Cotes in the Ruby,
together with Captain Stewart in the Hastings, and a sloop and
tender, was immediately despatched by the Admiral to view Port
L'Orient and all the places near it, so far as might regard
the safe approach and anchorage of the ships. The ignorance of
the country, and want of guides, was a desperate evil, for
which the General could provide no remedy. But as the wind
still continued contrary to the fleet and transports, though
single ships of war might work their way against it, the
General had occasion to see farther alterations made by the
ministry in their project of an invasion.
The Duke of Newcastle, who had before informed the General
that, if he could establish himself on any part of the coast
of France, two battalions of the Guards, and General Huske's
regiment, should be despatched after him, now says, (Sept. 3,)
that these three battalions have got immediate orders to
follow him. He farther adds, that if the General finds it
impracticable to make any descent on the coast of Brittany, or
higher up in the Bay of Biscay, he would probably find, on his
return, some intelligence sent him, by the reinforcement, with
regard to the coast of Normandy. Next day the Duke changes his
mind, and sends immediately this intelligence with regard to
the coast of Normandy, and a plan for annoying the French on
that quarter, proposed by Major Macdonald; and to this plan he
seems entirely to give the preference to the other, of making
an attempt on the western coast of France, to which he had
before confined the Admiral and General. They considered the
plan, and conversed with Major Macdonald, who came down to
Plymouth a few days after. They found that this plan had been
given in some years before, and was not in the least
calculated for the present expedition, but required a body of
cavalry as an essential point towards its execution; an
advantage of which the General was entirely destitute. They
found that Major Macdonald had had so few opportunities of
improving himself in the art of war, that it would be
dangerous, without farther information, to follow his plan in
any military operations. They found that he pretended only to
know the strength of the town, and nature of the country, in
that province, but had never acquainted himself with the
sea-coast, or pitched upon any proper place for
disembarkation. They considered that a very considerable step
had been already taken towards the execution of the other
project on the coast of Brittany, viz. the sending Commodore
Cotes to inspect and sound the coast; and that the same step
must now be taken anew, in so late a season, with regard to
the coast of Normandy. They thought that, if their whole
operations were to begin, an attempt on the western coast was
preferable, chiefly because of its remoteness from the
Flanders' army, which must increase and spread the alarm, if
the country were really so defenceless as was believed. They
represented all those reasons to the Secretary; but at the
same time expressed their intentions of remaining at Plymouth
till they should receive his majesty's positive orders with
regard to the enterprise on which they were to engage.
The Duke immediately despatched a messenger, with full powers
to them to go whithersoever they pleased. During this
interval, the General was obliged, to his great regret, to
remain in a manner wholly inactive. Plymouth was so remote a
place, that it was not to be expected he could there get any
proper intelligence. He was bound up by his orders to such
inviolable secrecy, that he could not make any inquiries for
it, or scarce receive it, if offered. The Secretary had sent
Major Macdonald, and one Cooke, captain of a privateer, who,
'twas found, could be of no manner of service in this
undertaking. These, he said, were the only persons he could
find in London that pretended to know any thing of the coast
of France, as if the question had been with regard to the
coast of Japan or of California. The General desired to have
maps of France, chiefly of Gascony and Brittany. He receives
only a map of Gascony, together with one of Normandy. No map
of Brittany; none of France; he is obliged to set out on so
important an enterprise without intelligence, without pilots,
without guides, without any map of the country to which he was
bound, except a common map, on a small scale, of the kingdom
of France, which his Aid-de-camp had been able to pick up in a
shop at Plymouth. He represented all these difficulties to the
ministry; he begged them not to flatter themselves with any
success from a General who had such obstacles to surmount, and
who must leave his conduct to the government of chance more
than prudence. He was answered, that nothing was expected of
him, but to land any where he pleased in France, to produce an
alarm, and to return safe, with the fleet and transports, to
the British dominions. Though he was sensible that more would
be expected by the people, yet he cheerfully despised their
rash judgments, while he acted in obedience to orders, and in
the prosecution of his duty. The fleet sailed from Plymouth on
the 15th of September, and, after a short voyage of three
days, arrived, in the evening of the 18th, off the island of
Groa, where they found Commodore Cotes and Captain Stuart, who
gave them an account of the success which they had met with in
the survey of the coast near L'Orient. The place they had
pitched on for landing, was ten miles from that town, at the
mouth of the river of Quimperlay. They represented it as a
flat open shore, with deep water: on these accounts a good
landing-place for the troops, but a dangerous place for the
ships to ride in, on account of the rocks with which it was
every where surrounded, and the high swell which was thrown
in, from the Bay of Biscay, by the west and south-west winds.
It was then about eight in the evening, a full moon and a
clear sky, with a gentle breeze blowing in shore. The question
was, whether to sail directly to the landing-place, or hold
off till morning. The two officers who had surveyed the coast
were divided in opinion: one recommended the former measure,
the other suggested some scruples, by representing the
dangerous rocks that lay on every side of them, and the
ignorance of all the pilots with regard to their number and
situation. The Admiral was determined, by these reasons, to
agree to this opinion. The question seemed little important,
as it regarded only a short delay; but really was of the
utmost consequence, and was, indeed, the spring whence all the
ill success in this expedition flowed.
The great age of Admiral Listock, as it increased his
experience, should make us cautious of censuring his opinion
in sea affairs, where he was allowed to have such consummate
knowledge. But at the same time, it may beget a suspicion,
that being now in the decline of life, he was thence naturally
inclined rather to the prudent counsels which suit a concerted
enterprise, than to the bold temerity which belongs to such
hasty and blind undertakings. The unhappy consequences of this
over-cautious measure immediately appeared. The Admiral had
laid his account, that by a delay, which procured a greater
safety to the fleet and transports, only four or five hours
would be lost; but the wind changing in the morning, and
blowing fresh off shore, all next day, and part of next night,
was spent before the ships could reach the landing-place. Some
of them were not able to reach it till two days after.
During this time, the fleet lay full in view of the coast,
and preparations were making in Port Louis, L'Orient, and
over the whole country, for the reception of an enemy, who
threatened them with so unexpected an invasion.
The force of France, either for offence or defence, consists
chiefly in three different bodies of men: first, in a numerous
veteran army, which was then entirely employed in Italy and on
their frontiers, except some shattered regiments, which were
dispersed about the country, for the advantage of recruiting,
and of which there were two regiments of dragoons at that time
in Brittany; secondly, in a regular and disciplined militia,
with which all the fortified cities along the sea-coast were
garrisoned, and many of the frontier towns, that seemed not to
be threatened with any immediate attack. Some bodies of this
militia had also been employed in the field with the regular
troops, and had acquired honour, which gave spirits and
courage to the rest: thirdly, in a numerous body of coast
militia, or gardes-du-cote, amounting to near 200,000, ill
armed and ill disciplined, formidable alone by their numbers;
and in Brittany, by the ferocity of the inhabitants, esteemed
of old and at present, the most warlike and least civilized of
all the French peasants. Regular signals were concerted for
the assembling of these forces, by alarm guns, flags, and
fires; and in the morning of the 20th of September, by break
of day, a considerable body of all these different kinds of
troops, but chiefly of the last, amounting to above 3000 men,
were seen upon the sea-shore to oppose the disembarkation of
the British forces. A disposition, therefore, of ships and
boats must be made for the regular landing of the army; and as
the weather was then very blustering, and the wind blew almost
off shore, this could not be effected till afternoon.
There appeared, in view of the fleet, three places which
seemed proper for a disembarkation, and which were separated
from each other either by a rising ground, or by a small arm
of the sea. The French militia had posted themselves in the
two places which lay nearest to L'Orient; and finding that
they were not numerous enough to cover the whole, they left
the third, which lay to the windward, almost wholly
defenceless. The General ordered the boats to rendezvous
opposite to this beach; and he saw the French troops march off
from the next contiguous landing-place, and take post opposite
to him. They placed themselves behind some sandbanks, in such
a manner as to be entirely sheltered from the cannon of those
English ships which covered the landing, while at the same
time they could rush in upon the troops, as soon as their
approach to the shore had obliged the ships to leave off
firing.
The General remarked their plan of defence, and was
determined to disappoint them. He observed, that the next
landing-place to the leeward was now empty; and that, though
the troops which had been posted on the more distant beach had
quitted their station, and were making a circuit round an arm
of the sea, in order to occupy the place deserted by the
others, they had not as yet reached it. He immediately seized
the opportunity. He ordered his boats to row directly forward,
as if he intended to land on the beach opposite to him; but
while the enemy were expecting him to advance, he ordered the
boats to turn, at a signal; and, making all the speed that
both oars and sails could give them, to steer directly to the
place deserted by the enemy. In order to render the
disembarkation more safe, he had previously ordered two
tenders to attack a battery, which had been placed on a mount
towards the right, and which was well situated for annoying
the boats on their approach. The tenders succeeded in chasing
the French from their guns; the boats reached the shore before
any of the French could be opposite to them. The soldiers
landed, to the number of about six hundred men, and formed in
an instant; immediately upon which the whole militia dispersed
and fled up into the country. The English followed them
regularly and in good order; prognosticating success to the
enterprise from such a fortunate beginning.
There was a creek, or arm of the sea, dry at low water, which
lay on the right hand of the landing-place, and through which
ran the nearest road to L'Orient, and the only one fit for the
march of troops, or the draught of cannon and heavy carriages.
As it was then high water, the French runaways were obliged,
by this creek, to make a circuit of some miles; and they
thereby misled the general, who, justly concluding they would
take shelter in that town, and having no other guides to
conduct him, thought that, by following their footsteps, he
would be led the readiest and shortest way to L'Orient. He
detached, therefore, in pursuit of the flying militia, about a
thousand men, under the command of Brigadier O'Farrel; who,
after being harassed by some firing from the hedges, (by which
Lieut.-Col. Erskine, Quarter-Master General, was dangerously
wounded,) arrived that evening at Guidel, a village about a
league distant from the landing-place. The general himself lay
near the sea-shore, to wait for the landing of the rest of the
forces. By break of day he led them up to join the brigadier
at Guidel. He there learned from some peasants, taken
prisoners, and who spoke the French language, (which few of
the common people in Brittany are able to do,) that the road
into which he had been led, by the reasons above specified,
was the longest by four or five miles. He was also informed,
what he had partly seen, that the road was very dangerous and
difficult, running through narrow lanes and defiles, betwixt
high hedges, faced with stone walls, and bordered in many
places with thick woods and brushes, where a very few
disciplined and brave troops might stop a whole army; and
where even a few, without discipline or bravery, might, by
firing suddenly upon the forces, throw them into confusion.
In order to acquire a more thorough knowledge of the country,
of which he and the whole army were utterly ignorant, he here
divided the troops into two equal bodies, and marched them up
to L'Orient, by two different roads, which were pointed out to
him. The one part, which he himself conducted, passed without
much molestation. The other, under Brigadier O'Farrel, was not
so fortunate. Two battalions of that detachment, Richbell's
and Frampton's, partly from their want of experience, and
partly from the terror naturally inspired into soldiers by
finding themselves in a difficult country unknown both to
themselves and leaders, and partly, perhaps, from accident, to
which the courage of men is extremely liable, fell into
confusion, before a handful of French peasants who fired at
them from behind the hedges. Notwithstanding all the
endeavours of the Brigadier, many of them threw down their
arms, and ran away; others fired in confusion, and wounded
each other; and if any regular forces had been present to take
advantage of this disorder, the most fatal consequences might
have ensued. And though they were at last led on, and joined
the general that evening before L'Orient, the panic still
remained in these two battalions afterwards, and communicated
itself to others; kept the whole army in anxiety, even when
they were not in danger, and threw a mighty damp on the
expectations of success, conceived from this undertaking.
L'Orient, lately a small village, now a considerable town, on
the coast of Brittany, lies in the extremity of a fine bay,
the mouth of which is very narrow, and guarded by the strong
citadel of Port Louis. This town has become the centre of the
French East India trade, the seat of the company established
for that commerce, and the magazine whence they distribute the
East India commodities. The great prizes made upon them by the
English, during the course of the war, had given a check to
this growing commerce; yet still the town was esteemed a
valuable acquisition, were it only on account of the wealth it
contained, and the store-houses of the company, a range of
stately buildings, erected at public charge, both for use and
ornament. The town itself is far from being strong. Two sides
of it, which are not protected with water, are defended only
with a plain wall, near thirty feet high, of no great
thickness, and without any fosse or parapet. But the water
which covers the other two sides, rendered it impossible to
be invested, and gave an opportunity for multitudes of people
to throw themselves into it from every corner of that populous
country. And though these, for want of discipline, could not
be trusted in the field against regular forces, yet became
they of great use in a defence behind walls, by throwing up
works, erecting batteries, and digging trenches, to secure
(what was sufficient) for a few days, a weak town against a
small and ill-provided army. The East India Company had
numbers of cannon in their magazines, and had there erected a
school of engineers, for the service of their ships and
settlements; the vessels in the harbour supplied them with
more cannon, and with seamen accustomed to their management
and use; and whatever was wanting, either in artillery or
warlike stores, could easily be brought by water from Port
Louis, with which the town of L'Orient kept always an open
communication.
But as these advantages, though great, require both a
sufficient presence of mind, and some time, to be employed
against an enemy, 'tis not improbable, that if the admiral had
been supplied with proper pilots, and the general with proper
guides, which could have led the English immediately upon the
coast, and to the town, the very terror of so unexpected an
invasion would have rendered the inhabitants incapable of
resistance, and made them surrender at discretion. The want of
these advantages had already lost two days; and more time must
yet be consumed, before they could so much as make the
appearance of an attack. Cannon was wanting, and the road by
which the army had marched, was absolutely unfit for the
conveyance of them. The general, therefore, having first
despatched an officer and a party to reconnoitre the country,
and find a nearer and better road, September 22d, went himself
next day to the sea-shore, for the same purpose, and also in
order to concert with the admiral the proper method of
bringing up cannon; as almost all the horses in the country,
which are extremely weak and of a diminutive size, had been
driven away by the peasants. Accordingly, a road was found,
much nearer, though still ten miles of length; and much
better, though easily rendered impassable by rainy weather, as
was afterwards experienced.
A council of war was held on board the Princessa, consisting
of the admiral and general, Brigadier O'Farrel and Commodore
Cotes. The engineers, Director-General Armstrong, and Captain
Watson, who had surveyed the town of L'Orient, being called
in, were asked their opinion with regard to the practicability
of an attempt on it, together with the time, and artillery,
and ammunition, requisite for that purpose. Their answer was,
that with two twelve pounders, and a ten inch mortar, planted
on the spot which they had pitched on for erecting a battery,
they engaged either to make a practicable breach in the walls,
or with cartridges, bombs, and red-hot balls, destroy the
town, by laying it in ashes in twenty-four hours. Captain
Chalmers, the captain of the artillery, who had not then seen
the town, was of the same opinion, from their description of
it, provided the battery was within the proper distance. Had
the king's orders been less positive for making an attempt on
some part of the coast of France, yet such flattering views
offered by men who promised what lay within the sphere of
their own profession, must have engaged the attention of the
admiral and general, and induced them to venture on a much
more hazardous and difficult undertaking. 'Twas accordingly
agreed that four twelve pounders, and a ten inch mortar,
together with three field-pieces, should be drawn up to the
camp by sailors, in order to make, with still greater
assurance, the attempt, whose success seemed so certain to the
engineers. These pieces of artillery, with the stores
demanded, notwithstanding all difficulties, were drawn to the
camp in two days, except two twelve pounders, which arrived
not till the day afterwards. A third part of the sailors of
the whole fleet, together with all the marines, were employed
in this drudgery; the admiral gave all assistance in his power
to the general; and the public, in one instance, saw that it
was not impossible for land and sea officers to live in
harmony together, and concur in promoting the success of an
enterprise.
The general, on his arrival in the camp, found the officer
returned whom he had sent to summon the town of L'Orient. By
his information, it appeared that the inhabitants were so much
alarmed by the suddenness of this incursion, and the terror of
a force, which their fears magnified, as to think of
surrendering, though upon conditions, which would have
rendered the conquest of no avail to their enemies. The
inhabitants insisted upon an absolute security to their houses
and goods; the East India Company to their magazines and
store-houses; and the garrison, consisting of about seven
hundred regular militia and troops, besides a great number of
irregulars, demanded a liberty of marching out with all the
honours of war. A weak town that opened its gates on such
conditions was not worth the entering; since it must
immediately be abandoned, leaving only to its conquerors the
shame of their own folly, and perhaps the reproach of
treachery. The general, therefore, partly trusting to the
promise of the engineers, and partly desirous of improving the
advantages gained by the present danger, when the deputies
arrived next day, September 23d, from the governor, from the
town, and from the East India Company, refused to receive any
articles but those from the governor, who commanded in the
name of his most Christian majesty. He even refused liberty to
the garrison to march out; well knowing that, as the town was
not invested, they could take that liberty whenever they
pleased.
Meanwhile, every accident concurred to render the enterprise
of the English abortive. Some deserters got into the town, who
informed the garrison of the true force of the English, which,
conjecturing from the greatness and number of the ships, they
had much magnified. Even this small body diminished daily,
from the fatigue of excessive duty, and from the great rains
that began to fall. Scarce three thousand were left to do
duty, which still augmented the fatigue to the few that
remained; especially when joined to the frequent alarms, that
the unaccountable panic they were struck with made but too
frequent. Rains had so spoilt the roads as to render it
impracticable to bring up any heavier cannon, or more of the
same calibre, so long a way, by the mere force of seamen. But
what, above all things, made the enterprise appear desperate,
was the discovery of the ignorance of the engineers, chiefly
of the director-general, who in the whole course of his
proceedings appeared neither to have skill in contrivance, nor
order and diligence in execution. His own want of capacity and
experience, made his projects of no use; his blind obstinacy
rendered him incapable of making use of the capacity of
others. Though the general offered to place and support the
battery wherever the engineer thought proper, he chose to set
it above six hundred yards from the wall, where such small
cannon could do no manner of execution. He planted it at so
oblique an angle to the wall that the ball thrown from the
largest cannon must have recoiled, without making any
impression. He trusted much to the red-hot balls, with which
he promised to lay the town in ashes in twenty-four hours;
yet, by his negligence, or that of others, the furnace with
which these balls were to be heated, was forgot. After the
furnace was brought, he found that the bellows, and other
implements necessary for the execution of that work, were also
left on board the store-ships. With great difficulty, and
infinite pains, ammunition and artillery stores were drawn up
from the sea-shore in tumbrels. He was totally ignorant, till
some days after, that he had along with him ammunition wagons,
which would have much facilitated this labour. His orders to
the officers of the train were so confused, or so ill obeyed,
that no ammunition came regularly up to the camp, to serve the
few cannon and the mortars that played upon the town. Not only
fascines, piquets, and every thing necessary for the battery,
were supplied him beyond his demand; but even workmen,
notwithstanding the great fatigue and small numbers of the
army. These workmen found no addition to their fatigue in
obeying his orders. He left them often unemployed, for want of
knowing in what business he should occupy them.
Meanwhile the French garrison, being so weakly attacked, had
leisure to prepare for a defence, and make proper use of their
great number of workmen, if not of soldiers, and the nearness
and plenty of their military stores. By throwing up earth in
the inside of the wall, they had planted a great many cannon,
some of a large calibre, and opened six batteries against one
that played upon them from the English. The distance alone of
the besiegers' battery, made these cannon of the enemy do less
execution; but that same distance rendered the attack
absolutely ineffectual. Were the battery brought nearer, to a
hundred paces for instance, 'twould be requisite to make it
communicate with the camp by trenches and a covered way, to
dig which was the work of some days for so small an army.
During this time, the besieged, foreseeing the place to which
the attack must be directed, could easily fortify it by
retrenchments in the inside of the wall; and planting ten
cannon to one, could silence the besiegers' feeble battery in
a few hours. They would not even have had leisure to make a
breach in the thin wall, which first discovered itself; and
that breach, if made, could not possibly serve to any purpose.
Above fifteen thousand men, completely armed by the East India
Company, and brave while protected by cannon and ramparts,
still stood in opposition to three thousand, discouraged with
fatigue, with sickness, and with despair of ever succeeding in
so unequal a contest.
* * * * *
A certain foreign writer, more anxious to tell his stories in
an entertaining manner than to assure himself of their
reality, has endeavoured to put this expedition in a
ridiculous light; but as there is not one circumstance of his
narration, which has truth in it, or even the least appearance
of truth, it would be needless to lose time in refuting it.
With regard to the prejudices of the public, a few questions
may suffice.
Was the attempt altogether impracticable from the beginning?
The general neither proposed it, nor planned it, nor approved
it, nor answered for its success. Did the disappointment
proceed from want of expedition? He had no pilots, guides, nor
intelligence, afforded him; and could not possibly provide
himself in any of these advantages, so necessary to all
military operations. Were the engineers blamable? This has
always been considered as a branch of military knowledge,
distinct from that of a commander, and which is altogether
intrusted to those to whose profession it peculiarly belongs.
By his vigour in combating the vain terrors spread amongst the
troops, and by his prudence in timely desisting from a
fruitless enterprise, the misfortune was confined merely to a
disappointment, without any loss or any dishonour to the
British arms. Commanders, from the situation of affairs, have
had opportunities of acquiring more honour; yet there is no
one whose conduct, in every circumstance, could be more free
from reproach. On the first of October, the fleet sailed out
of Quimperlay Road, from one of the most dangerous situations
that so large a fleet had ever lain in, at so late a season,
and in so stormy a sea as the Bay of Biscay. The reflection on
this danger had been no inconsiderable cause of hastening the
re-embarkation of the troops. And the more so, that the
secretary had given express orders to the admiral not to bring
the fleet into any hazard. The prudence of the hasty departure
appeared the more visibly the very day the fleet sailed, when
a violent storm arising from the south west, it was concluded,
that if the ships had been lying at anchor on the coast, many
of them must have necessarily been driven ashore, and wrecked
on the rocks that surrounded them. The fleet was dispersed,
and six transports being separated from the rest, went
immediately for England, carrying with them about eight
hundred of the forces. The rest put into Quiberon Bay, and the
general landed his small body on the peninsula of that name.
By erecting a battery of some guns on the narrow neck of land,
which joins the peninsula to the continent, he rendered his
situation almost impregnable, while he saw the fleet riding
secure in his neighbourhood, in one of the finest bays in the
world.
The industry and spirit of the general supported both himself
and the army against all these disadvantages, while there was
the smallest prospect of success. But his prudence determined
him to abandon it, when it appeared altogether desperate.
The engineers, seeing no manner of effect from their shells
and red-hot balls, and sensible that 'twas impossible either
to make a breach from a battery, erected at so great a
distance, or to place the battery nearer, under such a
superiority of French cannon, at last unanimously brought a
report to the general, that they had no longer any hope of
success; and that even all the ammunition, which, with
infinite labour, had been brought, was expended: no prospect
remained of being farther supplied, on account of the broken
roads, which lay between them and the fleet. The council of
war held in consequence of this report, balanced the reasons
for continuing or abandoning the enterprise, if men can be
said to balance where they find nothing on the one side but an
extreme desire to serve their king and country, and on the
other every maxim of war and prudence. They unanimously agreed
to abandon the attempt, and return on board the transports.
The whole troops were accordingly re-embarked by the 28th of
September, with the loss of near twenty men killed and
wounded, on the whole enterprise.
FOOTNOTES:
[441:1] See ante, p. 218.
APPENDIX B.
LETTERS REFERRED TO IN THE TEXT.[456:1]
I.--LETTERS FROM MONTESQUIEU TO HUME.[456:2]
(1.)
J'ai reçu Monsieur, comme une chose très précieuse, la belle
lettre que vous m'avez fait l'honneur de m'écrire au sujet de
mon ouvrage. Elle est remplie de réflexions si judicieuses et
si sensées, que je ne sçaurois vous dire à quel point j'en ai
été charmé. Ce que vous dites sur la forme dont les jurés
prononcent en Angleterre, ou en Ecosse, m'a surtout fait un
grand plaisir, et l'endroit de mon livre où j'ai traité cette
matière est peut-être celui qui m'a fait le plus de peine, et
où j'ai le plus souvent changé. Ce que j'avois fait, parce-que
je n'avois trouvé personne qui eut la-dessus des idées aussi
nettes, que vous avez. Mais c'est assez parler de mon livre
que j'ai l'honneur de vous présenter. J'aime mieux vous parler
d'une belle dissertation où vous donnez une beaucoup plus
grande influence aux causes morales qu'aux causes
physiques--et il m'a paru, autant que je suis capable d'en
juger, que ce sujet est traité à fond, quelque difficile qu'il
soit à traiter, et écrit de main de maître, et rempli d'idées
et de réflexions très neuves. Nous commençâmes aussi à
lire--M. Stuart et moi--un autre ouvrage de vous où vous
maltraitez un peu l'ordre ecclésiastique. Vous croyez bien que
Monsr. Stuart et moi n'avons pas pu entièrement vous
approuver--nous nous sommes contentés de vous admirer. Nous ne
crûmes pas que ces Messieurs furent tels, mais nous trouvâmes
fort bonnes les raisons que vous donnez pour qu'ils dussent
être tels. M. Stuart m'a fait un grand plaisir en me faisant
espérer que je trouverois à Paris une partie de ces beaux
ouvrages. J'ai l'honneur, Monsieur, de vous en remercier, et
d'être avec les sentimens de la plus parfaite estime, votre
très humble et très obéissant serviteur.
MONTESQUIEU.
_A Bordeaux, ce 19 May, 1749._
(2.)
Monsieur j'ai reçu la lettre que vous m'avez fait l'honneur de
m'écrire du 16 de Juillet, et il ne m'a été possible de la
lire qu' aujourdhui, à cause d'une grande fluxion sur les yeux
et que n'ayant point actuellement de secrétaire Anglais je ne
pouvois me la faire lire. J'étois prêt à y faire réponse quand
Mr. Le Mosnier est entré chez moi, et m'a parlé de l'honneur
qu'on veut faire à mon livre en Ecosse de l'y imprimer, et m'a
dit ce que vous m'avez déjà appris par votre lettre. Je suis
très obligé à vous Monsieur et à Monsieur Alexandre, de la
peine que vous avez prise. Je suis convenu avec M. Le Mosnier
que je ferais faire une copie des corrections que j'ai
envoiées en Angleterre, et à Paris, de la première édition de
Genève, en 2 volumes in 4to qui est très fautive, et qu'il se
chargeroit de les envoyer. J'ai reçu Monsieur, les exemplaires
de vos beaux ouvrages que vous avez eu la bonté de m'envoyer,
et j'ai lu avec un très grand plaisir l'essay sur l'esprit
humain, qui ne peut partir que d'un esprit extrêmement
philosophique. Tout ceci est rempli de belles idées, et je
vous remercie du plaisir que la lecture m'en a fait; à l'égard
de la citation des Lettres Persanes il vaut autant que mon nom
y soit que celui d'un autre, et cela n'est d'aucune
conséquence.
La réputation de Monsieur le Docteur Midleton est certainement
venue jusqu'à nous. Notior ut jam sit canibus non Delia
nostris, et j'espère bien me procurer l'avantage de lire les
ouvrages dont vous me parlez. Je sçais que Mr. de Midleton est
un homme éminent. J'ai Monsieur l'honneur d'être, &c.
_A Paris ce 3 7bre, 1749._
Je vous prie Monsieur, de vouloir bien faire mes compliments
très humbles à Mons. Stewart: il fairoit bien de venir nous
revoir cet automne prochain.
(3.)
J'ai Monsieur reçu l'honneur de votre lettre avec la postille
qui y est jointe, et j'ai de plus reçu un exemplaire de vos
excellentes compositions par la voie de Milord Morton. Mr. de
Jouquart qui a formé le dessein de traduire l'ouvrage de
Mons{r.} Wallace, me dit hier qu'il traduiroit aussi le vôtre
sur le nombre des peuples chez les anciennes nations. Cela
dépendra du succès qu'aura sa traduction qui est la première
qu'il ait faite. Il est certain qu'il a tous les talents qu'il
faut pour s'en acquitter, et je ne doute pas que le public ne
l'encourage à continuer. Le public qui admirera les deux
ouvrages, n'admirera pas moins deux amis qui font céder d'une
manière si noble les petits intérêts de l'esprit aux intérêts
de l'amitié; et pour moi, je regarderai comme un très grand
bonheur, si je puis me flatter d'avoir quelque part dans cette
amitié. J'ai l'honneur d'être, &c.
_Paris, ce 13 Juillet, 1753._
II.--LETTERS FROM THE ABBÉ LE BLANC TO HUME.
_Referred to in_ vol. i. p. 366, _and_ p. 408.
(1.)
MONSIEUR,--La traduction de vos discours politiques, que j'ai
l'honneur de vous envoyer, est la preuve la plus éclatante que
je pouvois vous donner de l'estime que j'en fais; vous en
serez peut-être plus content si j'avois été à portée de
profiter de vos lumières. Je vous prie, et votre intérêt s'y
trouve comme le mien, de me faire la grâce de la lire avec
attention, et de m'avertir des endroits, ou malgré toute
l'attention que j'y ai apportée, j'aurois pu m'écarter de
votre sens. J'en profiterai à la première édition, ainsi que
des remarques, changements, ou additions, qu'il vous plaira me
communiquer, soit à l'occasion de vos discours, soit sur les
autres ouvrages Anglois dont je parle dans mes notes.
Je vous prie encore Monsieur que ce soit le plus tôt qu'il
vous sera possible, car il est bon de vous dire que cette
traduction, grâce à l'excellence de l'original, se débite ici
comme un Roman; c'est tout dire, notre goût pour les futilités
vous est connu; il vous étoit réservé de nous y faire
renoncer, pour nous occuper des matières les plus dignes
d'exercer les esprits raisonnables. Le Libraire m'avertit
qu'il sera bientôt tems de penser à la seconde édition.
J'attendrai votre réponse pour l'enrichir de vos remarques qui
feront que celle-ci sera reçue du public avec encore plus
d'applaudissements.
Je profite de cette occasion pour vous offrir une amitié qui
vous sera, peut-être, inutile, et vous demander la vôtre que
je serois très flatté d'obtenir. Il semble que l'auteur et le
traducteur sont faits pour être liés ensemble: il est à
présumer qui celui que traduit un ouvrage a d'avance ou du
moins épousé la façon de parler de celui qui l'a fait. J'ai
trouvé dans vos discours un politique Philosophe, et un
Philosophe citoyen. Je n'ai moi-même donné aucun ouvrage qui
ne porte ce double caractère, et je me flatte que vous le
trouverez dans les Lettres d'un François, si par hazard elles
vous sont connues.
J'ai l'honneur d'être, avec les sentiments d'estime dont je
viens de vous donner des témoignages publics, et cette sorte
de respect que je n'ai que pour quelques Philosophes tels que
vous. Monsieur, votre très humble et très obéissant serviteur,
L'ABBÉ LE BLANC, Historiographe des Bâtiments du Roy de France.
_De Paris, le 25th Août, 1754._
(2.)
MONSIEUR,--La traduction de vos discours politiques est la
première que j'ai donnée au public; et l'utilité que j'ai cru
que ma patrie en pouvoit retirer, est l'unique motif que m'ait
déterminé à l'entreprendre. Je n'ose me répondre que vous la
trouverez telle que vous l'espérez. C'est à moi à vous
demander votre indulgence pour les fautes que vous y
trouverez, et à vous prier de me communiquer vos remarques sur
des notes que j'ai cru y devoir adjouter. Je vous promets de
corriger avec soumission les erreurs que vos m'y ferez
apercevoir. A la fin du 2d vol. j'ai donné une notice des
meilleurs ouvrages Anglois que j'ai consultés, sur les
matières du commerce; j'ai hazardé de porter mon jugement sur
chacun de ceux dont j'ai parlé. Je le rectifierai sur vos
lumières, si vous voulez bien me les communiquer. Si j'en ai
omis quelqu'un d'important, je vous prie de me le faire
connoître, et de me dire vous-même, qui êtes un si excellent
juge, ce que l'on en doit penser. J'enricherai la 2 Edition de
tout ce dont vous voudrez bien me faire part.
A l'égard de votre histoire de la Grande Bretagne que vous
m'annoncez, ce ne sera plus simplement comme votre admirateur
mais comme votre ami Monsieur, que j'en entreprendrai la
traduction, et je ferai de mon mieux pour qu'elle perde le
moins qu'il est possible. J'aime votre façon de penser, et je
suis familiarisé avec votre stile; si la matière exige qu'il
soit plus élevé je tacherai d'y atteindre. Mais pour que je
puisse entreprendre cette traduction avec succès, il faut s'il
est possible, que vous retardiez à Londres au moins d'un mois
la publication de votre ouvrage, et que vous me l'envoyez tout
de suite par la poste, addressé sans autre enveloppe à Mr.
Jannes, Chevalier de l'ordre du Roi, Controlleur Général des
Postes à Paris. Nous avons ici une foule d'écrivains
médiocres, qui sans savoir ni l'Anglois ni le François même,
sont a l'affût de tout ce qui s'imprime chez vous, et qui à
l'aide d'un dictionnaire vous massacreront impitoyablement. On
nous a donné ainsi plusieurs bons ouvrages, et entre autres la
dissertation de M. Wallace dont il n'est pas possible de
supporter la lecture en François. Pour faire de pareille
besogne, il ne faut pas beaucoup de tems à ces Messieurs là.
Ils travaillent vîte, parce qu'ils travaillent _fami potius
quam famæ_. Si je n'ai pas du tems devant eux, je serai
prévenu, et si je le suis, je serai obligé d'abandonner
l'ouvrage. Je ne vous parle pas des traducteurs de Hollande
qui sont encore plus mauvais s'il est possible. Cette fois-ci
je veux faire un office d'amitié, je vous prie de me mettre à
portée de le bien faire. Vos discours Politiques vous ont,
comme je m'y attendois, donné ici la plus haute réputation,
dès que votre histoire paroîtra, un libraire la fera venir par
la poste, et mettra ses ouvriers après, à moins que vous ne
m'accordiez la grâce que je vous demande. Alors on saura que
je la traduis, et je suis sûr que ces messieurs me laisseront
faire.
J'ai encore à vous apprendre, monsieur, que le succès de vos
Discours Politiques ne fait qu'augmenter tous les jours, et
que tout retentit de vos Éloges. Nos ministres même n'en sont
pas moins satisfaits que le public. Mr. le Comte d'Argenson,
Mr. Le Maréchal de Noailles, en un mot tous ceux qui ont ici
part au gouvernement ont parlé de votre ouvrage, comme d'un
des meilleurs qui ayent jamais été faits sur ces matières.
J'ai été obligé de céder mon exemplaire à un d'entre eux;
ainsi je vous prie de m'en adresser un par la même voie que je
vous ai indiquée, la poste après que vous m'aurez envoyé le I.
vol. de votre histoire, d'autant plus que les additions et
corrections dont vous m'avez fait part se rapportent à la 3{e}
edition qui je crois se trouveroit difficilement a Paris.
(3.)
MONSIEUR,--Je vous avois promis, et je m'étois flatté de
pouvoir consacrer mes veilles à traduire aussi votre admirable
Histoire de l'infortunée Maison de Stewart. Les obstacles les
plus puissants, ceux-mêmes qui ôtent à l'esprit cette liberté
sans laquelle on ne fait rien de bien, voyages, affaires,
disgrâces, maladies--tout s'est opposé à l'exécution d'un
projet qui rioit si fort à mon imagination et dont l'exécution
ne pouroit que me faire honneur.
A ce défaut j'ai prêté à un de mes amis, homme d'esprit et
laborieux, le premier volume que vous avez eu la bonté de
m'envoyer. Il l'a traduit et le rendra public au commencement
de l'hiver prochain.
J'ai de même que tous ceux qui savent ici l'Anglois, le plus
grand empressement de lire votre second volume. J'en ferai le
même usage que du premier.
Je vous avois annoncé que vos discours Politiques feroient
parmi nous le même effet que _L'Esprit des Loix_. L'évènement
m'a justifié, non seulement ils jouissent parmi nous de cette
haute réputation qu'ils méritent, mais ils ont donné lieu à
un grand nombre d'autres ouvrages plus ou moins estimables et
qui la plus part n'ont d'original que la forme. Vous en
trouverez le catalogue à la suite d'une troisième édition de
ma traduction que je vais donner incessamment.
Il vient d'en paroître un qui fait ici un grand bruit, et que
je n'ai garde de confondre avec tous ceux dont je viens de
parler. Il est intitulé, L'AMI DES HOMMES OU TRAITÉ DE LA
POPULATION. L'Auteur est un génie hardi, original, qui comme
Montaigne se laisse aller à ses idées, les expose sans
orgueil, sans modestie; il ne suit ni ordre ni méthode; mais
son ouvrage, plein d'excellentes choses, respire le bien de
l'humanité et de la patrie. Il prêche l'agriculture, et
foudroye la finance. Il combat votre système sur le luxe, mais
avec les égards élevés à la superiorité de vos lumières. Il
m'a remis un exemplaire de son ouvrage, qu'il me prie de vous
présenter comme un tribut de son estime et de la
reconnoissance qu'il vous doit, pour l'utilité qu'il a tirée
de vos Discours Politiques. Il ne demande pas mieux que d'
être éclairé et par la noblesse des sentiments et la politesse
de la conduite. Je ne crains pas de le dire. L'adversaire est
digne de vous. C'est _Monsieur le Marquis de Mirabeau_, qui
est tel qu'il paroît dans son livre--c'est à dire un des plus
extraordinaires des hommes qu'il y ait en quelque pays que ce
soit. Je vous prie Monsieur de m'indiquer une voie sûre pour
vous faire parvenir son ouvrage.
(4.)
_Dresde, le 25 Dec. 1754._
J'ai vu ici la traduction de vos Discours Politiques imprimée
en Hollande; elle ne se peut pas lire; vous souffririez vous,
Monsieur, de vous voir ainsi défiguré. Le Traducteur quel
qu'il soit ne sait constamment ni l'Anglois ni le François.
C'est probablement un de ces auteurs qui travaillent à la
foire pour les libraires de Hollande, et dont les ouvrages
bons ou mauvais se débitent aux foires de Leipsig et de
Francfort. Les bibliothèques de ce pays ci sont remplies de
livres François qui n'ont jamais été et ne seront jamais
connus en France. Cette traduction passe ici pour être d'un
Mr. Mauvillon de Leipsic dont le métier est de faire des
livres François pour L'Allemagne, et d'enseigner ce qu'il ne
sait--c'est à dire, votre langue et la nôtre. Ce qu'il y a de
Saxons lettrés qui les possèdent l'une ou l'autre, et qui
s'intéressent au bien de leur pays, connoissent l'excellence
de votre ouvrage, me pressent de faire imprimer à Dresde même
la seconde édition de ma traduction, et je pourrois bien me
rendre à leur avis. Je n'attends plus que votre réponse pour
me décider. Quelque part qu'elle se fasse, je tâcherai de
faire en sorte qu'elle soit belle et correcte.
(5.)
MONSIEUR,--Il y a à peu près un an que notre commerce
épistolaire a commencé, et j'ai grand regret que par des
contretems de tout espèce il ait été sitôt interrompu. Vous
m'avez donné trop de preuves de votre politesse pour que je ne
sois pas à présent convaincu que vous n'avez reçu aucune des
lettres que je vous ai écrites de Dresde, et que j'avois
essayé de vous faire passer par la voie de votre ambassadeur à
cette cour. Prêt a quitter la Saxe, je vous écrivis encor de
Leïpzic, pour vous rendre compte de mon séjour en ce pays, et
vous dire que la dissipation où j'y avois vécu forcément, ne
m'avoit pas permis d'avancer beaucoup dans la traduction de
votre histoire de la malheureuse famille des Stuarts. J'ai
depuis été en Hollande, et, comme je l'avois prévu j'ai appris
qu'un de ces auteurs, qui travaillent à la fois aux gages des
libraires qui les employent, en avoit fait une de son coté,
qui étoit toute prête à paroître. Vous pouvez aisément juger
du découragement où une pareille nouvelle m'a jetté. La
manufacture des livres de Hollande fait réellement grand tort
à notre littérature Françoise. On y employe à traduire un
excellent ouvrage des gens qui ne seroient bons qu'à
travailler à la fabrique du papier.
FOOTNOTES:
[456:1] From the MSS. R.S.E.
[456:2] See _antea_, p. 304.
APPENDIX C.
DOCUMENTS RELATING TO THE POEMS OF OSSIAN.
I.--CORRESPONDENCE.
(1.)
HUME _to_ ----.
_Edinburgh, August 16, 1760._
SIR,--I am not surprised to find by your letter, that Mr. Gray
should have entertained suspicions with regard to the
authenticity of these fragments of our Highland poetry. The
first time I was shown the copies of some of them in
manuscript, by our friend John Home, I was inclined to be a
little incredulous on that head; but Mr. Home removed my
scruples, by informing me of the manner in which he procured
them from Mr. Macpherson, the translator.
These two gentlemen were drinking the waters together at
Moffat last autumn, when their conversation fell upon Highland
poetry, which Mr. Macpherson extolled very highly. Our friend,
who knew him to be a good scholar, and a man of taste, found
his curiosity excited, and asked whether he had ever
translated any of them. Mr. Macpherson replied, that he never
had attempted any such thing; and doubted whether it was
possible to transfuse such beauties into our language; but,
for Mr. Home's satisfaction, and in order to give him a
general notion of the strain of that wild poetry, he would
endeavour to turn one of them into English. He accordingly
brought him one next day, which our friend was so much pleased
with, that he never ceased soliciting Mr. Macpherson, till he
insensibly produced that small volume which has been
published.
After this volume was in every body's hands, and universally
admired, we heard every day new reasons, which put the
authenticity, not the great antiquity which the translator
ascribes to them, beyond all question; for their antiquity is
a point, which must be ascertained by reasoning; though the
arguments he employs seem very probable and convincing. But
certain it is, that these poems are in every body's mouth in
the Highlands, have been handed down from father to son, and
are of an age beyond all memory and tradition.
In the family of every Highland chieftain, there was anciently
retained a bard, whose office was the same with that of the
Greek rhapsodists; and the general subject of the poems which
they recited was the wars of Fingal; an epoch no less
remarkable among them, than the wars of Troy among the Greek
poets. This custom is not even yet altogether abolished: the
bard and piper are esteemed the most honourable offices in a
chieftain's family, and these two characters are frequently
united in the same person. Adam Smith, the celebrated
Professor in Glasgow, told me that the piper of the
Argyleshire militia repeated to him all those poems which Mr.
Macpherson has translated, and many more of equal beauty.
Major Mackay, Lord Reay's brother, also told me that he
remembers them perfectly; as likewise did the Laird of
Macfarlane, the greatest antiquarian whom we have in this
country, and who insists so strongly on the historical truth,
as well as on the poetical beauty of these productions. I
could add the Laird and Lady Macleod to these authorities,
with many more, if these were not sufficient, as they live in
different parts of the Highlands, very remote from each other,
and they could only be acquainted with poems that had become
in a manner national works, and had gradually spread
themselves into every mouth, and imprinted themselves on every
memory.
Every body in Edinburgh is so convinced of this truth, that we
have endeavoured to put Mr. Macpherson on a way of procuring
us more of these wild flowers. He is a modest, sensible, young
man, not settled in any living, but employed as a private
tutor in Mr. Grahame of Balgowan's family, a way of life which
he is not fond of. We have, therefore, set about a
subscription of a guinea or two guineas a-piece, in order to
enable him to quit that family, and undertake a mission into
the Highlands, where he hopes to recover more of these
fragments. There is, in particular, a country surgeon
somewhere in Lochaber, who, he says, can recite a great number
of them, but never committed them to writing; as indeed the
orthography of the Highland language is not fixed, and the
natives have always employed more the sword than the pen. This
surgeon has by heart the Epic poem mentioned by Mr. Macpherson
in his Preface; and as he is somewhat old, and is the only
person living that has it entire, we are in the more haste to
recover a monument, which will certainly be regarded as a
curiosity in the republic of letters.
I own that my first and chief objection to the authenticity of
these fragments, was not on account of the noble and even
tender strokes which they contain; for these are the offspring
of genius and passion in all countries; I was only surprised
at the regular plan which appears in some of these pieces, and
which seems to be the work of a more cultivated age. None of
the specimens of barbarous poetry known to us, the Hebrew,
Arabian, or any other, contain this species of beauty; and if
a regular epic poem, or even any thing of that kind, nearly
regular, should also come from that rough climate or
uncivilized people, it would appear to me a phenomenon
altogether unaccountable.
I remember Mr. Macpherson told me, that the heroes of this
Highland epic were not only, like Homer's heroes, their own
butchers, bakers, and cooks, but also their own shoemakers,
carpenters, and smiths. He mentioned an incident which put
this matter in a remarkable light. A warrior had the head of
his spear struck off in battle; upon which he immediately
retires behind the army, where a large forge was erected,
makes a new one, hurries back to the action, pierces his
enemy, while the iron, which was yet red-hot, hisses in the
wound. This imagery you will allow to be singular, and so well
imagined, that it would have been adopted by Homer, had the
manners of the Greeks allowed him to have employed it.
I forgot to mention, as another proof of the authenticity of
these poems, and even of the reality of the adventures
contained in them, that the names of the heroes, Fingal,
Oscar, Osur, Oscan, Dermid, are still given in the Highlands
to large mastiffs, in the same manner as we affix to them the
names of Cæsar, Pompey, Hector, or the French that of
Marlborough.
It gives me pleasure to find, that a person of so fine a taste
as Mr. Gray approves of these fragments; as it may convince
us, that our fondness of them is not altogether founded on
national prepossessions, which, however, you know to be a
little strong. The translation is elegant; but I made an
objection to the author, which I wish you would communicate to
Mr. Gray, that we may judge of the justness of it. There
appeared to me many verses in his prose, and all of them in
the same measure with Mr. Shenstone's famous ballad:
"Ye shepherds so cheerful and gay,
Whose flocks never carelessly roam, &c."
Pray, ask Mr. Gray, whether he made the same remark, &c. and
whether he thinks it a blemish. Yours most sincerely,
&c.[465:1]
(2.)
HUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.
_Lisle St. Leicester Fields, 19th Sept. 1763._
DEAR SIR,--I live in a place where I have the pleasure of
frequently hearing justice done to your Dissertation; but
never heard it mentioned in a company where some one person or
other did not express his doubts with regard to the
authenticity of the poems which are its subject; and I often
hear them totally rejected with disdain and indignation, as a
palpable and most impudent forgery. This opinion has, indeed,
become very prevalent among the men of letters in London; and
I can foresee, that in a few years the poems, if they continue
to stand on their present footing, will be thrown aside, and
will fall into final oblivion. It is in vain to say that their
beauty will support them, independent of their authenticity.
No; that beauty is not so much to the general taste as to
ensure you of this event; and if people be once disgusted with
the idea of a forgery, they are thence apt to entertain a more
disadvantageous notion of the excellency of the production
itself. The absurd pride and caprice of Macpherson himself,
who scorns, as he pretends, to satisfy any body that doubts
his veracity, has tended much to confirm this general
scepticism; and I must own, for my own part, that, though I
have had many particular reasons to believe these poems
genuine, more than it is possible for any Englishman of
letters to have, yet I am not entirely without my scruples on
that head. You think that the internal proofs in favour of the
poems are very convincing; so they are: but there are also
internal reasons against them, particularly from the manners,
notwithstanding all the art with which you have endeavoured to
throw a varnish on that circumstance; and the preservation of
such long and such connected poems by oral tradition alone,
during a course of fourteen centuries, is so much out of the
ordinary course of human affairs, that it requires the
strongest reasons to make us believe it.
My present purpose, therefore, is to apply to you, in the name
of all the men of letters of this, and I may say of all other
countries, to establish this capital point, and to give us
proof that these poems are, I do not say so ancient as the age
of Severus, but that they were not forged within these five
years by James Macpherson. These proofs must not be arguments,
but testimonies. People's ears are fortified against the
former: the latter may yet find their way before the poems are
consigned to total oblivion. Now the testimonies may, in my
opinion, be of two kinds. Macpherson pretends that there is an
ancient manuscript of part of Fingal, in the family, I think,
of Clanronald. Get that fact ascertained by more than one
person of credit; let these persons be acquainted with the
Gaelic; let them compare the original and the translation; and
let them testify the fidelity of the latter. But the chief
point in which it will be necessary for you to exert yourself,
will be to get positive testimony from many different hands,
that such poems are vulgarly recited in the Highlands, and
have there long been the entertainment of the people. This
testimony must be as particular as it is positive. It will not
be sufficient that a Highland gentleman or clergyman say or
write to you, that he has heard such poems; nobody questions
that there are traditional poems in that part of the country,
where the names of Ossian and Fingal, and Oscar, and Gaul, are
mentioned in every stanza. The only doubt is, whether these
poems have any farther resemblance to the poems published by
Macpherson. I was told by Bourke, a very ingenious Irish
gentleman, the author of a tract on the Sublime and Beautiful,
that on the first publication of Macpherson's book, all the
Irish cried out, We know all these poems, we have always heard
them from our infancy. But when he asked more particular
questions, he could never learn that any one had ever heard,
or could repeat the original of any one paragraph of the
pretended translation. This generality, then, must be
carefully guarded against, as being of no authority.
Your connexions among your brethren of the clergy, may here
be of great use to you. You may easily learn the names of all
ministers of that country, who understand the language of it;
you may write to them, expressing the doubts that have arisen,
and desiring them to send for such of the bards as remain, and
make them rehearse their ancient poems. Let the clergymen,
then, have the translation in their hands, and let them write
back to you, and inform you that they heard such a one,
(naming him,) living in such a place, rehearse the original of
such a passage, from such a page to such a page of the English
translation, which appeared exact and faithful. If you give to
the public a sufficient number of such testimonies, you may
prevail. But I venture to foretel to you that nothing less
will serve the purpose; nothing less will so much as command
the attention of the public. Becket tells me that he is to
give us a new edition of your Dissertation, accompanied with
some remarks on Temora; here is a favourable opportunity for
you to execute this purpose. You have a just and laudable zeal
for the credit of these poems; they are, if genuine, one of
the greatest curiosities, in all respects, that ever was
discovered in the commonwealth of letters; and the child is,
in a manner, become yours by adoption, as Macpherson has
totally abandoned all care of it. These motives call upon you
to exert yourself; and I think it were suitable to your
candour, and most satisfactory also to the reader, to publish
all the answers to all the letters you write, even though some
of these letters should make somewhat against your own opinion
in this affair. We shall always be the more assured that no
arguments are strained beyond their proper force, and no
contrary arguments suppressed, where such an entire
communication is made to us. Becket joins me heartily in this
application, and he owns to me, that the believers in the
authenticity of the poems diminish every day among the men of
sense and reflection. Nothing less than what I propose, can
throw the balance on the other side. I depart from hence in
about three weeks, and should be glad to hear your resolution
before that time.
This journey to Paris is likely to contribute much to my
entertainment, and will certainly tend much to improve my
fortune; so that I have no reason to repent that I have
allowed myself to be dragged from my retreat. I shall
henceforth converse with authors, but shall not probably for
some time have much leisure to peruse them; which is not
perhaps the way of knowing them most to their advantage. I
carried only four books along with me, a Virgil, a Horace, a
Tasso, and a Tacitus. I could have wished also to carry my
Homer, but I found him too bulky. I own that, in common
decency, I ought to have left my Horace behind me, and that I
ought to be ashamed to look him in the face. For I am sensible
that, at my years, no temptation would have seduced him from
his retreat; nor would he ever have been induced to enter so
late into the path of ambition.[468:1] But I deny that I enter
into the path of ambition; I only walk into the green fields
of amusement; and I affirm, that external amusement becomes
more and more necessary as one advances in years, and can find
less supplies from his own passions or imagination. I am,
&c.[468:2]
(3.)
DR. BLAIR _to_ HUME.
_Edinburgh, 29th September, 1763._
DEAR SIR,--I am much obliged to you for the information you
have communicated to me, and for the concern you show that
justice should be done to our Highland Poems. From what I saw
myself when at London, I could easily believe that the
disposition of men of letters was rather averse to their
reception as genuine; but I trusted that the internal
characters of their authenticity, together with the occasional
testimonies given to them by Highland gentlemen who are every
where scattered, would gradually surmount these prejudices.
For my own part, it is impossible for me to entertain the
smallest doubt of their being real productions, and ancient
ones, too, of the Highlands. Neither Macpherson's parts,
though good, nor his industry, were equal to such a forgery.
The whole publication, you know, was in its first rise
accidental. Macpherson was entreated and dragged into it. Some
of the MSS. sent to him passed through my hands. Severals of
them he translated, in a manner, under my eye. He gave me
these native and genuine accounts of them, which bore plain
characters of truth. What he said was often confirmed to me by
others. I had testimonies from several Highlanders concerning
their authenticity, in words strong and explicit. And, setting
all this aside, is it a thing which any man of sense can
suppose, that Macpherson would venture to forge such a body of
poetry, and give it to the public as ancient poems and songs,
well known at this day through all the Highlands of Scotland,
when he could have been refuted and exposed by every one of
his own countrymen? Is it credible that he could bring so many
thousand people into a conspiracy with him to keep his secret?
or that some would not be found who, attached to their own
ancient songs, would not cry out, "These are not the poems we
deal in. You have forged characters and sentiments we know
nothing about; you have modernized and dressed us up: we have
much better songs and poems of our own." Who but John Bull
could entertain the belief of an imposture so incredible as
this? The utmost I should think any rational scepticism could
suppose is this, that Macpherson might have sometimes
interpolated, or endeavoured to improve, by some corrections
of his own. Of this I am verily persuaded there was very
little, if any at all. Had it prevailed, we would have been
able to trace more marks of inconsistency, and a different
hand and style; whereas, these poems are more remarkable for
nothing than an entire, and supported, and uniform consistency
of character and manner through the whole.
However, seeing we have to do with such incredulous people, I
think it were a pity not to do justice to such valuable
monuments of genius. I have already, therefore, entered upon
the task you prescribe me, though I foresee it may give me
some trouble. I have writ by last post to Sir James Macdonald,
who is fortunately at this time in the Isle of Skye. I have
also, through the Laird of Macleod, writ to Clanronald, and
likewise to two clergymen in the Isle of Skye, men of letters
and character; one of them, Macpherson minister of Sleat, the
author of a very learned work about to be published concerning
the Antiquities of Scotland. Several others in Argyleshire,
the Islands, and other poetical regions, worthy clergymen, who
are well versed in the Gaelic, I intend also without delay to
make application to.
My requisition to them all is for such positive and express
testimonies as you desire; MSS. if they have any, compared
before witnesses with the printed book, and recitations of
bards compared in the same manner. I have given them express
directions in what manner to proceed, so as to avoid that
loose generality which, as you observe, can signify nothing.
What use it may be proper to put these testimonies to, I can
only judge after having got all my materials. I apprehend
there may be some difficulty in obtaining the consent of those
concerned to publish their letters, nor might it be proper.
But concerning this, I may afterwards advise with you and my
other friends.
In the meantime, you may please acquaint Mr. Becket, that this
must retard for some time the publication of his new edition
with my Dissertation; as the least I can allow for the return
of letters from such distant parts, where the communication by
post is irregular and slow, together with the time necessary
for their executing what is desired, will be three months,
perhaps some more; and, assuredly, any new evidence we can
give the world, must accompany my Dissertation.
I am in some difficulty with Macpherson himself in this
affair. Capricious as he is, I would not willingly hurt or
disoblige him; and yet I apprehend that such an inquiry as
this, which is like tracing him out, and supposing his
veracity called in question, will not please him. I must write
him by next post, and endeavour to put the affair in such a
light as to soften him; which you, if you see him, may do
likewise, and show him the necessity of something of this kind
being done; and with more propriety, perhaps, by another than
himself.[470:1]
(4.)
HUME _to_ DR. BLAIR.
_6th October, 1763._
MY DEAR SIR,--I am very glad you have undertaken the task which I used
the freedom to recommend to you. Nothing less than what you propose will
serve the purpose. You need expect no assistance from Macpherson, who
flew into a passion when I told him of the letter I had wrote to you.
But you must not mind so strange and heteroclite a mortal, than whom I
have scarce ever known a man more perverse and unamiable. He will
probably depart for Florida with governor Johnstone, and I would advise
him to travel among the Chickisaws or Cherokees, in order to tame him
and civilize him.
I should be much pleased to hear of the success of your
labours. Your method of directing to me is under cover to the
Earl of Hertford, Northumberland House; any letters that come
to me under that direction, will be sent over to me at Paris.
I beg my compliments to Robertson and Jardine. I am very sorry
to hear of the state of Ferguson's health. John Hume went to
the country yesterday with Lord Bute. I was introduced the
other day to that noble lord, at his desire. I believe him a
very good man, a better man than a politician.
Since writing the above, I have been in company with Mrs.
Montague, a lady of great distinction in this place, and a
zealous partisan of Ossian. I told her of your intention, and
even used the freedom to read your letter to her. She was
extremely pleased with your project; and the rather as the Duc
de Nivernois, she said, had talked to her much on that subject
last winter, and desired, if possible, to get collected some
proofs of the authenticity of these poems, which he proposed
to lay before the Académie des Belles Lettres at Paris. You
see, then, that you are upon a great stage in this inquiry,
and that many people have their eyes upon you. This is a new
motive for rendering your proofs as complete as possible. I
cannot conceive any objection, which a man, even of the
gravest character, could have to your publication of his
letters, which will only attest a plain fact known to him.
Such scruples, if they occur, you must endeavour to remove.
For on this trial of yours will the judgment of the public
finally depend.
Lord Bath, who was in the company, agreed with me, that such
documents of authenticity are entirely necessary and
indispensable.
Please to write to me as soon as you make any advances, that I
may have something to say on the subject to the literati of
Paris. I beg my compliments to all those who bear that
character at Edinburgh. I cannot but look upon all of them as
my friends. I am, &c.[471:1]
II.
ESSAY ON THE GENUINENESS OF THE POEMS.[471:2]
I think the fate of this production the most curious effect of
prejudice, where superstition had no share, that ever was in
the world. A tiresome, insipid performance; which, if it had
been presented in its real form, as the work of a
contemporary, an obscure Highlander, no man could ever have
had the patience to have once perused, has, by passing for the
poetry of a royal bard, who flourished fifteen centuries ago,
been universally read, has been pretty generally admired, and
has been translated, in prose and verse, into several
languages of Europe. Even the style of the supposed English
translation has been admired, though harsh and absurd in the
highest degree; jumping perpetually from verse to prose, and
from prose to verse; and running, most of it, in the light
cadence and measure of Molly Mog. Such is the Erse epic, which
has been puffed with a zeal and enthusiasm that has drawn a
ridicule on my countrymen.
But, to cut off at once the whole source of its reputation, I
shall collect a few very obvious arguments against the notion
of its great antiquity, with which so many people have been
intoxicated, and which alone made it worthy of any attention.
(1.) The very manner in which it was presented to the public
forms a strong presumption against its authenticity. The
pretended translator goes on a mission to the Highlands to
recover and collect a work, which, he affirmed, was dispersed,
in fragments, among the natives. He returns, and gives a
quarto volume, and then another quarto, with the same
unsupported assurance as if it were a translation of the
Orlando Furioso, or Lousiade, or any poem the best known in
Europe. It might have been expected, at least, that he would
have told the public, and the subscribers to his mission, and
the purchasers of his book, _This part I got from such a
person, in such a place; that other part, from such another
person. I was enabled to correct my first copy of such a
passage by the recital of such another person; a fourth
supplied such a defect in my first copy_. By such a history of
his gradual discoveries he would have given some face of
probability to them. Any man of common sense, who was in
earnest, must, in this case, have seen the peculiar necessity
of that precaution, any man that had regard to his own
character, would have anxiously followed that obvious and easy
method. All the friends of the pretended translator exhorted
and entreated him to give them and the public that
satisfaction. No! those who could doubt his veracity were
fools, whom it was not worth while to satisfy. The most
incredible of all facts was to be taken on his word, whom
nobody knew; and an experiment was to be made, I suppose in
jest, how far the credulity of the public would give way to
assurance and dogmatical affirmation.
(2.) But, to show the utter incredibility of the fact, let
these following considerations be weighed, or, rather, simply
reflected on; for it seems ridiculous to weigh them. Consider
the size of these poems. What is given us is asserted to be
only a part of a much greater collection; yet even these
pieces amount to two quartos. And they were composed, you say,
in the Highlands, about fifteen centuries ago; and have been
faithfully transmitted, ever since, by oral tradition, through
ages totally ignorant of letters, by the rudest, perhaps, of
all the European nations; the most necessitous, the most
turbulent, the most ferocious, and the most unsettled. Did
ever any event happen that approached within a hundred degrees
of this mighty wonder, even to the nations the most fortunate
in their climate and situation? Can a ballad be shown that has
passed, uncorrupted, by oral tradition, through three
generations, among the Greeks, or Italians, or Phoenicians,
or Egyptians, or even among the natives of such countries as
Otaheite or Molacca, who seem exempted by nature from all
attention but to amusement, to poetry, and music?
But the Celtic nations, it is said, had peculiar advantages
for preserving their traditional poetry. The Irish, the Welsh,
the Bretons, are all Celtic nations, much better entitled than
the Highlanders, from their soil, and climate, and situation,
to have leisure for these amusements. They, accordingly,
present us not with complete epic and historical poems, (for
they never had the assurance to go that length,) but with very
copious and circumstantial traditions, which are allowed, by
all men of sense, to be scandalous and ridiculous impostures.
(3.) The style and genius of these pretended poems are another
sufficient proof of the imposition. The Lapland and Runic
odes, conveyed to us, besides their small compass, have a
savage rudeness, and sometimes grandeur, suited to those ages.
But this Erse poetry has an insipid correctness, and
regularity, and uniformity, which betrays a man without
genius, that has been acquainted with the productions of
civilized nations, and had his imagination so limited to that
tract, that it was impossible for him even to mimic the
character which he pretended to assume.
The manners are still a more striking proof of their want of
authenticity. We see nothing but the affected generosity and
gallantry of chivalry, which are quite unknown, not only to
all savage people, but to every nation not trained in these
artificial modes of thinking. In Homer, for instance, and
Virgil, and Ariosto, the heroes are represented as making a
nocturnal incursion into the camp of the enemy. Homer and
Virgil, who certainly were educated in much more civilized
ages than those of Ossian, make no scruple of representing
their heroes as committing undistinguished slaughter on the
sleeping foe. But Orlando walks quietly through the camp of
the Saracens, and scorns to kill even an infidel who cannot
defend himself. Gaul and Oscar are knight-errants, still more
romantic: they make a noise in the midst of the enemy's camp,
that they may waken them, and thereby have a right to fight
with them and to kill them. Nay, Fingal carries his ideas of
chivalry still farther; much beyond what was ever dreamt of by
Amadis de Gaul or Lancelot de Lake. When his territory is
invaded, he scorns to repel the enemy with his whole force: he
sends only an equal number against them, under an inferior
captain: when these are repulsed, he sends a second
detachment; and it is not till after a double defeat, that he
deigns himself to descend from the hill, where he had
remained, all the while, an idle spectator, and to attack the
enemy. Fingal and Swaran combat each other all day, with the
greatest fury. When darkness suspends the fight, they feast
together with the greatest amity, and then renew the combat
with the return of light. Are these the manners of barbarous
nations, or even of people that have common sense? We may
remark, that all this narrative is supposed to be given us by
a contemporary poet. The facts, therefore, must be supposed
entirely, or nearly, conformable to truth. The gallantry and
extreme delicacy towards the women, which is found in these
productions, is, if possible, still more contrary to the
manners of barbarians. Among all rude nations, force and
courage are the predominant virtues; and the inferiority of
the females, in these particulars, renders them an object of
contempt, not of deference and regard.
(4.) But I derive a new argument against the antiquity of
these poems, from the general tenor of the narrative. Where
manners are represented in them, probability, or even
possibility, are totally disregarded: but in all other
respects, the events are within the course of nature; no
giants, no monsters, no magic, no incredible feats of strength
or activity. Every transaction is conformable to familiar
experience, and scarcely even deserves the name of wonderful.
Did this ever happen in ancient and barbarous poetry? Why is
this characteristic wanting, so essential to rude and ignorant
ages? Ossian, you say, was singing the exploits of his
contemporaries, and therefore could not falsify them in any
great degree. But if this had been a restraint, your pretended
Ossian had never sung the exploits of his contemporaries; he
had gone back a generation or two, which would have been
sufficient to throw an entire obscurity on the events; and he
would thereby have attained the marvellous, which is alone
striking to barbarians. I desire it may be observed, that
manners are the only circumstances which a rude people cannot
falsify; because they have no notion of any manners beside
their own: but it is easy for them to let loose their
imagination, and violate the course of nature, in every other
particular; and indeed they take no pleasure in any other kind
of narrative. In Ossian, nature is violated, where alone she
ought to have been preserved; is preserved where alone she
ought to have been violated.
(5.) But there is another species of the marvellous, wanting
in Ossian, which is inseparable from all nations, civilized as
well as barbarous, but still more, if possible, from the
barbarous, and that is religion; no religious sentiment in
this Erse poetry. All those Celtic heroes are more complete
atheists than ever were bred in the school of Epicurus. To
account for this singularity, we are told that a few
generations before Ossian, the people quarrelled with their
Druidical priests, and having expelled them, never afterwards
adopted any other species of religion. It is not quite
unnatural, I own, for the people to quarrel with their
priests,--as we did with ours at the Reformation; but we
attached ourselves with fresh zeal to our new preachers and
new system; and this passion increased in proportion to our
hatred of the old. But I suppose the reason of this strange
absurdity in our new Erse poetry, is, that the author, finding
by the assumed age of his heroes, that he must have given them
the Druidical religion, and not trusting to his literature,
(which seems indeed to be very slender) for making the
representations consistent with antiquity, thought it safest
to give them no religion at all; a circumstance so wonderfully
unnatural, that it is sufficient alone, if men had eyes, to
detect the imposition.
(6.) The state of the arts, as represented in those poems, is
totally incompatible with the age assigned to them. We know,
that the houses even of the Southern Britons, till conquered
by the Romans, were nothing but huts erected in the woods; but
a stately stone building is mentioned by Ossian, of which the
walls remain, after it is consumed with fire. The melancholy
circumstance of a fox is described, who looks out at the
windows; an image, if I be not mistaken, borrowed from the
Scriptures. The Caledonians, as well as the Irish, had no
shipping but currachs, or wicker boats covered with hides: yet
are they represented as passing, in great military
expeditions, from the Hebrides to Denmark, Norway, and Sweden;
a most glaring absurdity. They live entirely by hunting, yet
muster armies, which make incursions to these countries as
well as to Ireland: though it is certain from the experience
of America, that the whole Highlands would scarce subsist a
hundred persons by hunting. They are totally unacquainted with
fishing; though that occupation first tempts all rude nations
to venture on the sea. Ossian alludes to a wind or water-mill,
a machine then unknown to the Greeks and Romans, according to
the opinion of the best antiquaries. His barbarians, though
ignorant of tillage, are well acquainted with the method of
working all kinds of metals. The harp is the musical
instrument of Ossian; but the bagpipe, from time immemorial,
has been the instrument of the Highlanders. If ever the harp
had been known among them, it never had given place to the
other barbarous discord.
Stridenti miserum stipula disperdere carmen.
(7.) All the historical facts of this poem are opposed by
traditions, which, if all these tales be not equally
contemptible, seem to merit much more attention. The Irish
Scoti are the undoubted ancestors of the present Highlanders,
who are but a small colony of that ancient people. But the
Irish traditions make Fingal, Ossian, Oscar, all Irishmen, and
place them some centuries distant from the Erse heroes. They
represent them as giants, and monsters, and enchanters, a sure
mark of a considerable antiquity of these traditions. I ask
the partisans of Erse poetry, since the names of these heroes
have crept over to Ireland, and have become quite familiar to
the natives of that country, how it happens, that not a line
of this poetry, in which they are all celebrated, which, it is
pretended, alone preserves their memory with our Highlanders,
and which is composed by one of these heroes themselves in the
Irish language, ever found its way thither? The songs and
traditions of the Senachies, the genuine poetry of the Irish,
carry in their rudeness and absurdity the inseparable
attendants of barbarism, a very different aspect from the
insipid correctness of Ossian; where the incidents, if you
will pardon the antithesis, are the most unnatural, merely
because they are natural. The same observation extends to the
Welsh, another Celtic nation.
(8.) The fiction of these poems is, if possible, still more
palpably detected, by the great numbers of other traditions,
which, the author pretends, are still fresh in the Highlands,
with regard to all the personages. The poems, composed in the
age of Truthil and Cormac, ancestors of Ossian, are, he says,
full of complaints against the roguery and tyranny of the
Druids. He talks as familiarly of the poetry of that period as
Lucian or Longinus would of the Greek poetry of the Socratic
age. I suppose here is a new rich mine of poetry ready to
break out upon us, if the author thinks it can turn to
account. For probably he does not mind the danger of
detection, which he has little reason to apprehend from his
experience of the public credulity. But I shall venture to
assert, without any reserve or further inquiry, that there is
no Highlander who is not, in some degree, a man of letters,
that ever so much as heard there was a Druid in the world. The
margin of every page almost of this wonderful production is
supported, as he pretends, by minute oral traditions with
regard to the personages. To the poem of Dar-thula, there is
prefixed a long account of the pedigree, marriages, and
adventures of three brothers, Nathos, Althos, and Ardan,
heroes that lived fifteen hundred years ago in Argyleshire,
and whose memory, it seems, is still celebrated there, and in
every part of the Highlands. How ridiculous to advance such a
pretension to the learned, who know that there is no tradition
of Alexander the great all over the East; that the Turks, who
have heard of him from their communication with the Greeks,
believe him to have been the captain of Solomon's guard; that
the Greek and Roman story, the moment it departs from the
historical ages, becomes a heap of fiction and absurdity; that
Cyrus himself, the conqueror of the East, became so much
unknown, even in little more than half a century, that
Herodotus himself, born and bred in Asia, within the limits of
the Persian empire, could tell nothing of him, more than of
Croesus, the contemporary of Cyrus, and who reigned in the
neighbourhood of the historian, but the most ridiculous
fables; and that the grandfather of Hengist and Horsa, the
first Saxon conquerors, was conceived to be a divinity. I
suppose it is sufficiently evident, that without the help of
books and history, the very name of Julius Cæsar would at
present be totally unknown in Europe. A gentleman, who
travelled into Italy, told me, that in visiting Frescati or
Tusculum, his cicerone showed him the foundation and ruins of
Cicero's country house. He asked the fellow who this Cicero
might be, "Un grandissimo gigante," said he.
(9.) I ask, since the memory of Fingal and his ancestors and
descendants is still so fresh in the Highlands, how it
happens, that none of the compilers of the Scotch fabulous
history ever laid hold of them, and inserted them in the list
of our ancient monarchs, but were obliged to have recourse to
direct fiction and lying to make out their genealogies? It is
to be remarked, that the Highlanders, who are now but an
inferior part of the nation, anciently composed the whole; so
that no tradition of theirs could be unknown to the court, the
nobility, and the whole kingdom. Where, then, have these
wonderful traditions skulked during so many centuries, that
they have never come to light till yesterday? And the very
names of our ancient kings are unknown; though it is
pretended, that a very particular narrative of their
transactions was still preserved, and universally diffused
among a numerous tribe, who are the original stem of the
nation. Father Innes, the only judicious writer that ever
touched our ancient history, finds in monastic records the
names, and little more than the names, of kings from Fergus,
whom we call Fergus the Second, who lived long after the
supposed Fingal: and he thence begins the true history of the
nation. He had too good sense to give any attention to
pretended traditions even of kings, much less would he have
believed that the memory and adventures of every leader of
banditti in every valley of the Highlands, could be
circumstantially preserved by oral tradition through more than
fifteen centuries.