The family of Longman can trace a publishing pedigree back to a date
anterior to that of any other house still represented amongst us--the
Rivingtons only excepted. As in the previous chapter, we shall select
one member--necessarily that one to whom most public interest is
attached--as the typical representative of the firm, touching lightly,
however, upon all. And, in accordance with the scheme of the present
volume, our remarks will primarily be devoted to a narrative of their
business connections with that branch of literature--classical and
educational works--with which the name of Longman is more immediately
associated.
For the whole of the seventeenth century the Longman family occupied
the position of thriving citizens in the busy seaport town of Bristol,
then the Liverpool of the day, and acquired some considerable wealth
in the manufacture of soap and sugar, achieving in many instances the
highest honours in civic authority. Ezekiel Longman, who is described
as “of Bristol, gentleman,” died in the year 1708, leaving, by a second
marriage, a little boy only nine years of age, who, as Thomas Longman,
is afterwards to be the founder of the great Paternoster Row firm.
By a provision of his father’s will, Thomas was to be “well and
handsomely bred and educated according to his fortune;” this, we
presume, was duly accomplished, and in June, 1716, we find that he was
bound apprentice for seven years to Mr. John Osborn, bookseller, of
Lombard Street, London--a man in a good, substantial way of business,
but not to be confused with the other Osbornes of the time. Unlike
Jacob, Longman served his seven years, and reaped a due reward in the
person of his master’s daughter; and, as at the expiry of his time, the
house of William Taylor (known to fame as the publisher of _Robinson
Crusoe_) had lost its chief, Osborn being appointed executor for the
family, we find that in August, 1824 “all the household goods and books
bound in sheets” according to valuation were purchased by Longman for
£2,282 9_s._ 6_d._--a very considerable sum in those days, and, towards
the end of the month, £230 18_s._ was further paid for part shares in
several profitable copyrights.
In acquiring this business Longman took possession of two houses, both
ancient in the trade, the _Black Swan_ and the _Ship_, which, through
the profitable returns of _Robinson Crusoe_, Taylor had amalgamated
into one; and here on the self-same freehold ground, the immense
publishing establishment of the modern Longmans is still standing.
The first trade mention we find of his name occurs in a prospectus
dated Oct., 1724, of a proposal to publish, by subscription, _The Works
of the Honourable Robert Boyle, Esq._ (the father of chemistry, and
brother of the Earl of Cork), “to be printed for W. and J. Innes, at
the West End of St. Paul’s Churchyard, J. Osborn, at the _Oxford Arms_,
in Lombard Street, and T. Longman, at the _Ship_ and _Black Swan_,
in Paternoster Row.” In a few months after this Osborn followed his
daughter to the Row, and, adding his capital to that of his son-in-law,
remained in partnership with him until the end of his days.
In 1726, we find their names conjointly prefixed to the first edition
of Sherlock’s _Voyages_, and between that date and 1730 to a great
variety of school books.
All the works of importance, many even of the minor books, were, at
that time, published not only by subscription in the first instance,
but the remaining risk, and the trouble of a pretty certain venture,
were divided amongst a number of booksellers: and the share system was
so general that in the books of the Stationers’ Company there is a
column ruled off, before the entries of the titles of works and marked
“Shares,” and subdivided into halves, eight-twelfths, sixteenths,
twenty-fourths, and even sixty-fourths. Much of the speculative portion
of a bookseller’s business in those days consisted, therefore, not in
the original publication of books, but in the purchase and sale of
their shares, and to this business we find that Thomas Longman was
especially addicted. As early as November, 1724, he bought one-third of
the _Delphin Virgil_ from Jacob Tonson, junior; in 1728 a twentieth of
Ainsworth’s _Latin Dictionary_, one of the most profitable books of the
last century, for forty pounds, and, much later on, one-fourth part of
the _Arabian Nights’ Entertainment_ for the small sum of twelve pounds.
The chief interest of the career of the house at this period lies in
their connection with the _Cyclopædia_ of Ephraim Chambers, which was
not only the parent of all our English encyclopædias, but also the
direct cause of the famous _Encyclopédie_ of the French philosophers.
Longman’s share in this work, first published in 1728, cost but fifty
pounds, and consisted, probably, only of one sixty-fourth portion; as,
however, the proprietors died off, Longman steadily purchased all the
shares that were thrown on the book-market, until, in the year 1740,
the Stationers’ book assigns him eleven out of the sixty-four--a larger
number than was ever held by any other proprietor.
One of the few direct allusions to Longman’s personal character relates
to his kindness to Ephraim Chambers. A contemporary writes in the
_Gentleman’s Magazine_:--“Mr. Longman used him with the liberality of
a prince, and the kindness of a father; even his natural absence of
mind was consulted, and during his illness jellies and other proper
refreshments were industriously left for him at those places where
it was least likely that he should avoid seeing them.” Chambers had
received £500 over and above the stipulated price for this great work,
and towards the latter end of his life was never absolutely in want of
money; yet from forgetfulness, perhaps from custom, he was parsimonious
in the extreme. A friend called one day at his chambers in Gray’s Inn,
and was pressed to stay dinner. “And what will you give me, Ephraim?”
asked the guest; “I dare engage you have nothing for dinner!” To which
Mr. Chambers calmly replied, “Yes, I have a fritter, and if you’ll stay
with me I’ll have two.”
After the death of his partner and father-in-law, who bequeathed him
all his books and property, Thomas Longman seems to have prospered
amazingly. In 1746 he took into partnership one Thomas Shenrell; but,
except for the fact that this name figures in conjunction with his
for the two following years, then to disappear for ever, little more
is known. In 1754, however, he took a nephew into partnership, after
which the title-pages of their works ran:--“Printed for T. and T.
Longman at the _Ship_ in Pater-Noster-Row.” Before this, however, he
is to be found acting in unison with Dodsley, Millar, and other great
publishers of the day, in the issue of such important works as Dr.
Samuel Johnson’s _Dictionary of the English Language_. On the 10th of
June, 1855, only _two_ months after the publication of the dictionary,
he died, and Johnson is obliged to put off his well-earned holiday-trip
to Oxford. “Since my promise two of our partners are dead (Paul
Knapton was the second) and I was solicited to suspend my excursion
till we could recover from our confusion. Thomas Longman the first had
no children, and left half the partnership stock to his nephew and
namesake, the rest of the property going to his widow.”
Thomas Longman, the nephew, was born in 1731, and, at the age of
fifteen, entered the publishing firm as an apprentice, and at the date
of his uncle’s death was only five-and-twenty.
Under his management the old traditions were kept up--more copyrights
of standard books were purchased, the country trade extended, and
more than this the business relations of the house were very vastly
increased in the American colonies. One of Osborn’s earliest books,
by-the-way, had been entered at Stationers’ Hall in 1712 as _Psalms,
Hymns, and Spiritual Songs of the Old and New Testament. For the
edification and comfort of the Saints in Public and Private, more
especially in New England_. The nephew probably followed up the
colonial trade of his uncle and master, for at the first commencement
of hostilities in that country he had a very large sum engaged in that
particular business, and, to the honour of the succeeding colonists,
several of his correspondents behaved very handsomely in liquidating
their debts in full, even subsequent to amicable arrangements and to
the peace of 1783.
As in the case of the founder of the house, the folio _Cyclopædia_,
still the only one in the field, occupied the chief attention of
the firm. Already in 1746 it had reached a fifth edition; “and
whilst,” adds Alexander Chalmers, “a sixth edition was in question
the proprietors thought that the work might admit of a supplement in
two additional folio volumes. This supplement, which was published
in the joint names of Mr. Scott and Dr. Hill, though containing a
number of valuable articles, was far from being uniformly conspicuous
for its exact judgment and due selection, a small part of it only
being executed by Mr. Scott, Dr. Hill’s task having been discharged
with his usual rapidity.” There the matter stood for some years,
when the proprietors determined to convert the whole into one work.
Several editions were tried and found wanting, and finally Dr. John
Calder, the friend of Dr. Percy, was engaged, but provisionally only,
for the duty. He drew up an elaborate programme, containing no less
than twenty-six propositions. The agreement, as it illustrates, in
some degree, the relative positions of authors and publishers, may
be quoted. Dr. Calder agreed to prepare a new edition of _Chambers’s
Cyclopædia_ to be completed in two years. He received £50 as a
retaining fee upon signing the agreement, and £50 a quarter until
the work was finally out of the printer’s hands. In spite of this
retaining fee the proprietors appear to have been smitten with fear,
perhaps dreading a repetition of Dr. Hill’s inaccuracies, and sent
round a specimen sheet to the eminent _literati_ of the day, asking
their opinions upon the matter and the style. All the verdicts were
unfavourable, one contemptuous critic complaining that the author had
twice referred favourably to the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, “a Scots
rival publication in little esteem.” Dr. Johnson cut away a large
portion of his sheet as worthless; but, at poor Calder’s request, who
began to be perplexedly alarmed by all these adverse reviews, explained
this superfluity as arising simply from _trôp de zèle_. “I consider
the residuum which I lopped away, not as the consequence of negligence
or inability, but as the result of superfluous business, naturally
exerted in the first article. He that does too much soon learns to do
less.” Then apologizing for Calder’s turbulence and impatience, the
kindly doctor prays “that he may stand where he stood before, and be
permitted to proceed with the work with which he is engaged. Do not
refuse this request, sir, to your most humble servant, Samuel Johnson.”
Again and again the doctor interposed his influence, but in vain, and
Abraham Rees, a young professor in a dissenting college near town,
was engaged, and a new issue of the _Cyclopædia_ (still Chambers’s),
in weekly parts, was commenced in 1778, running on till 1786,
attaining a circulation of four or five thousand, then a large one,
for each number; and Longman, as chief proprietor, must have profited
exceedingly by the work.
In the books of the Stationers’ Company we find repeated entry of
Longman as publisher or shareholder in such miscellaneous works as
_Gil Blas_, _Humphrey Clinker_, and _Rasselas_; and, true to the old
traditions of the firm, educational works were by no means neglected.
Among others we note a record of _Cocker’s Arithmetic_, since
proverbially and bibliographically famous.
Cocker was an unruly master of St. Paul’s School, twice deposed for
his extreme opinions, but twice restored for his marvellous talents of
teaching. “He was the first to reduce arithmetic to a purely mechanical
art.” The first edition, however, was published only after his death
by his friend “John Hawkins, writing master”--a copy sold by Puttick
and Simpson, in 1851, realized £8 10_s._ The fifty-second edition was
published in 1748, and the last reprint, though at that time the work
was in Longman’s hands, bears “Glasgow, 1777,” on the title-page.
“Ingenious Cocker now to rest thou’rt gone,
No art can show thee fully, but thy own,
Thy rare arithmetic alone can show
The vast _sums_ of thanks we for thy labour owe.”
In those days the publishers clave together in a manner undreamt of
in these latter times of keener competition. Nichols, in speaking
of James Robson (a Bond-street bookseller), and a literary club of
booksellers, observes that Mr. Longman, with the late Alderman Cadell,
James Dodsley, Lockyer, Davies, Peter Elmsley, Honest Tom Payne of
the Mew’s Gate, and Thomas Evans of the Strand, were all members of
this society. They met first at the “Devil’s Tavern,” Temple-bar, then
moved to the “Grecian,” and finally from a weekly gathering, became a
monthly meeting at the “Shakspeare.” Here was originated the germ of
many a valuable production. Under their auspices Davies (in whose shop
Boswell first met Johnson) produced his only valuable work, the _Life
of Garrick_. Poor Davies had been an actor till Churchill’s satire
drove him off the stage--
“He mouths a sentence as curs mouth a bone.”
From this he fled to the refuge of a bookselling shop in
Russell-street, Covent-garden. He is described variously as “not a
bookseller, but a gentleman dealing in books,” and as “learned enough
for a clergyman.” Here he strived indifferently well till we come upon
his epitaph--
“Here lies the author, actor Thomas Davies,
Living he shone a very _rara avis_;
The scenes he played life’s audience must commend--
He honour’d Garrick, Johnson was his friend.”
At this club meeting, too, Johnson’s _Lives of the Poets_ were first
resolved on, and by the club clique the work was ultimately produced.
William West, a bookseller’s assistant, who died at a great age at the
Charter House, in 1855, has left in his _Fifty Years’ Reminiscences_,
and in the pages of the _Aldine Magazine_, a number of garrulous,
amusing, but sometimes incoherent stories of the old booksellers.
West says he knew all the members of the club, and bears witness
that “Longman was a man of the most exemplary character both in his
profession and in his private life, and as universally esteemed for his
benevolence as for his integrity.” He mentions in particular Longman’s
generosity in offering George Robinson any sum he wished on credit,
when his business was in a critical condition.
West adds, “I was in the habit of going to Mr. Longman’s almost daily
from the years 1785 to 1787 or 1788, for various books for country
orders, being what is termed in all wholesale booksellers’ shops ‘a
collector.’ Mr. Norton Longman had been caused by his father wisely
to go through this same wholesome routine of his profession; and I am
informed that the present Mr. L. (Thomas Norton Longman), although at
the very head of the book trade, has pursued a similar course with his
sons.”
Longman--and this brings us to the subject--had married a sister of
Harris, the patentee, and long the manager of Covent Garden Theatre.
By her he had three sons, and of these Thomas Norton Longman, born in
1771, about 1792 began to take his father’s place in the publishing
establishment; and about this time Thomas Brown entered the office as
an apprentice. In 1794, Mr. Owen Rees was admitted a member, and the
firm’s title was altered to “Longman and Co.;” and at this time, too,
the younger Evans, “rating,” we are told, “only as third wholesale
bookseller in England,” became bankrupt, and the whole of his picked
stock was transferred to 39, Paternoster Row. The stock was further
increased by a legacy from the elder Evans to Brown’s father in 1803.
This elder Evans, as the publisher of the _Morning Chronicle_, had
incurred the displeasure of Goldsmith, who, mindful of Johnson’s former
valour, “went to the shop,” says Nichols, “cane in hand, and fell upon
him in a most unmerciful manner. This Mr. Evans resented in a truly
pugilistic method, and in a few moments the author of the _Vicar of
Wakefield_ was disarmed and stretched on the floor, to the no small
diversion of the bystanders.”
[Illustration: Thomas Longman.
1771-1842.]
Seven years, however, before this, Thomas Longman the second died, on
the 5th February, 1797. Of the position to which he had attained it is
sufficient to mention that when the Government were about to impose
an additional duty on paper, subsequent to that of 1794, the firm of
Longman urged such strong and unanswerable arguments against it and its
impolicy that the idea was relinquished; and at this time the house had
nearly £100,000 embarked in various publications.
Longman left his business to his eldest son, and to his second son,
George, he bequeathed a handsome fortune, which enabled him to become a
very extensive paper manufacturer at Maidstone, in Kent, and for some
years he represented that borough in Parliament. As a further honour,
he was drawn for Sheriff of London, but did not serve the office.
Edward Longman, the third son, was drowned at an early age in a voyage
to India, whither he was proceeding to a naval station in the East
India Company’s service.
At the time of Thomas Norton Longman’s accession to the chiefdom of
the Paternoster Row firm, the literary world was undergoing a seething
revolution. Genius was again let loose upon the earth to charm all men
by her beauty, and to scare them for a while by her utter contempt for
precedent. The torpor in which England had been wrapped during the
whole of the foregone Hanoverian dynasty was changing into an eager
feeling of unrest, and, later on, to a burning desire to do something,
no matter what, and to do it thoroughly in one’s own best manner, and
at one’s own truest promptings. No man saw the coming change more
clearly than Longman; and anxious to profit by the first-fruits of
the future, yet careful not to cast away in his hurry that ponderous
ballast of dictionary and compilation, he soon gathered all the young
writers of the day within the precincts of his publishing fold.
Down at Bristol, the ancestral town of both Longman and Rees, Joseph
Cottle had been doing honest service--without, we fear, much profit--in
issuing the earliest works of young men who were to take the highest
rank among their fellows. Cottle had published Southey’s _Joan of
Arc_ in 1796, and in 1798 had issued the _Lyrical Ballads_, the joint
composition of Coleridge and Wordsworth. When, in 1800, Longman
purchased the entire copyrights of the Bristol firm, at a fair and
individual valuation, the _Lyrical Ballads_ were set down in the bill
at exactly nothing, and Cottle obtained leave to present the copyright
to the authors. In connection with Cottle and Longman, we must here
mention a story that does infinite credit to both. At the very close
of the eighteenth century, Southey and Cottle in conjunction prepared
an edition of Chatterton’s works, to be published by subscription for
the benefit of his sister, whose sight was now beginning to fail her.
Hitherto, though much money had been made from the works of the “boy
poet,” they had been printed only for the emolument of speculators.
The edition unfortunately proved a failure, but Longman and Rees
entered into a friendly arrangement with Southey, and he was able to
report in 1804 that Mrs. Newton lived to receive £184 15_s._ from the
profits, when, as she expressed it, she would otherwise have wanted
bread. Ultimately, Mary Ann Newton, the poet’s niece, received about
£600, the fruits of the generous exertion of a brother poet, and of
the good feeling of a kind-hearted publisher.
The first edition of the _Lyrical Ballads_ did eventually sell out, and
then Wordsworth, detaching his own poems from the others, and adding
several new ones thereto, obtained £100 from Longman for the use of two
editions, but the sale was so very slow that the bargain was probably
unprofitable.
In this same year 1800 the house of Longman also published Coleridge’s
translation of Schiller’s _Wallenstein_, written in the short space of
six weeks. Very few copies were sold, but after remaining on hand for
sixteen years, the remainder was sold off rapidly at a double price.
Southey (a Bristol man himself) met, too, with much kindness from the
firm, but after his first poem with but little, as a poet, from the
public. We have seen before that “the profits” on _Madoc_ “amounted
to exactly three pounds seventeen shillings and a penny.” No wonder
that he writes to a friend, “Books are now so dear that they are
becoming articles of fashionable furniture more than anything else;
they who do buy them do not read, and they who read them do not buy
them. I have seen a Wiltshire clothier who gives his bookseller no
other instructions than the dimensions of his shelves; and have just
heard of a Liverpool merchant who is fitting up a library, and has
told his bibliopole to send him Shakespeare, Milton, and Pope, and
if any of those fellows should publish anything new to let him have
it immediately. If _Madoc_ obtains any celebrity, its size and cost
will recommend it to those gentry _libros consumere nati_, born to
buy octavos and help the revenue.” Southey’s prose, however, proved
infinitely more profitable, and for some years he was the chief
contributor to Longman’s _Annual Review_ started in 1802, the same
year as the _Edinburgh Review_. About this time Longman first went to
Scotland, paid a visit to Walter Scott, and purchased the copyright
of the _Minstrelsy_ then publishing; and in the following year Rees
crossed the borders, and returned with an arrangement to publish the
_Lay of the Last Minstrel_ on the half-profit system, Constable having,
however, a very small share in it. Scott’s moiety of profits was £169
6_s._, and success being then ensured, Longman offered £500 for the
copyright, which was at once accepted. They afterwards added £100,
“handsomely given to supply the loss of a fine horse which broke down
suddenly while the author was riding with one of the worthy publishers”
(Owen Rees).
Already in the first few years of the century we find the house
connected with Wordsworth, Southey, Coleridge, and Scott, but it was
by no means entirely to poetry that Longman and Rees trusted. In 1799
they purchased the copyright of Lindley Murray’s _English Grammar_, one
of the most profitable school books ever issued from the press--for
many years the annual sale of the _Abridgment_ in England alone was
from 48,000 to 50,000 copies. Chambers’ _Cyclopædia_ was entirely
re-written, re-cast, and re-christened, and again, under the management
of Abraham Rees, after whom it was named, came out in quarto form in
parts, but at a total cost of £85. The ablest scientific and technical
writers of the day were retained, and among them we find the names
of Humphry Davy, John Abernethy, Sharon Turner, John Flaxman, and
Henry Brougham. For the first twenty years of this century Rees’ _New
Cyclopædia_ filled the place that the _Encyclopædia Britannica_--“a
Scots rival in little esteem”--was afterwards to occupy.
In 1803, we find the trade catalogue has extended so much in bulk and
character that it is divided into no less than twenty-two classes.
Among their books we note Paley’s _Natural Theology_ (ten editions
published in seven years), Sharon Turner’s _Anglo-Saxon History_,
Pinkerton’s _Geography_, Cowper’s _Homer_, and Gifford’s _Juvenal_.
About this time too, they engaged very extensively in the old book
trade, a branch of the business discarded about the year 1840. In
a catalogue of the year 1811 we find some very curious books. Here
are the celebrated _Roxburgh Ballads_, now in the British Museum; a
Pennant’s _London_, marked £300; a Granger’s _Biographical Dictionary_,
£750; Pilkington’s _Dictionary of Painters_, £420; two volumes of
_Cromwelliana_, £250; an extraordinary assemblage of Caxtons, Wynkyn de
Wordes, and other early printed books, one supposed to date from 1446;
a unique assemblage of _Garrickiana_, and many other articles of a
matchless character.[9]
Longman was himself indefatigable in business, for fifty years
unremittingly he came from and returned to Hampstead on horseback; but
as the rious branches of the trade clearly prove, the superintendence
of so vast a business was altogether beyond the power of any single
man; and perhaps nothing tended more to raise the firm to the eminent
position it soon attained than the plan of introducing fresh blood
from time to time;--the new members being often chosen on account of
the zeal and talent they had displayed as servants of the house. In
1804 Thomas Hurst, with the whole of his trade and connection, and
Cosmo Orme (the founder of the hospital for decayed booksellers) were
admitted. In 1811, Thomas Brown, whom we have already noticed as an
apprentice, became a member of the firm, and until his retirement
in 1859, took the sole management of the cash department, with so
regular and just a system that an author could always learn what was
coming to him, and when he was to receive it--a plan _not_ invariably
adopted in a publisher’s counting-house. The firm was in 1824 further
strengthened by the admission of Bevis Green, who had been apprenticed
to Hurst in 1807. The title of the firm at this, its best known, period
was, therefore, “Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, Brown, and Green.” When,
however, Thomas Roberts entered, the title was changed to “Longman,
Green, Longman, Roberts, and Green;” but we are anticipating, for
Roberts died as recently as 1865, having acquired some distinction in
private life as a Numismatist. For the sake of convenience, and for the
sequence of the story, it will, perhaps, be as well to consider the
firm as represented, as in fact from his leading position it was by
Thomas Norton Longman, touching only upon the others individually when
some directly personal interest arises. Before all these partnerships,
however, were accomplished facts Longman had taken a much more
precious, and even more zealous partner in the person of Miss Mary
Slater of Horsham, Sussex, whom he had married as far back as the 2nd
July, 1799.
Wordsworth of course continued his connection with the firm, though his
profits were absolutely _nil_. Though a poetic philosopher he was not
quite proof against the indifference of the public. In the edition
of the _Lyrical Ballads_ published in 1805 we find the significant
epigraph, _Quam nihil ad genium, Papinique tuum_. In 1807, he published
two new volumes, in which appeared many of his choicest pieces, and
among them his first sonnets. Jeffrey, however, maintained that they
were miserably inferior, and his article put an absolute stop to
the sale. Wordsworth had, perhaps deprived himself of all right to
complain, for his harshest reviewer did him far more justice than
he was wont to deal out to his greatest contemporaries. In 1814, we
find Longman announcing, “Just published, the _Excursion_, being a
portion of the _Recluse_, by William Wordsworth, in 4to., price £2
2_s._, boards.” Jeffrey used the famous expression--“This will never
do;” and Hogg wrote to Southey that Jeffrey had _crushed_ the poem.
“What!” retorted Southey, “Jeffrey _crush_ the _Excursion_! Tell him he
might as easily crush Skiddaw!” Wordsworth, who had invariably a high
value of his own works, even of his weakest ones, writes also,--“I am
delighted to learn that the Edinburgh Aristarch has declared against
the _Excursion_, as he will have the mortification of seeing a book
enjoy a high reputation to which he has not contributed.” For a while,
however, Jeffrey’s curse was potent, and it took six years to exhaust
an edition of only 500 copies. We need scarcely follow Wordsworth’s
various publications (do their dates not lie on every table of every
drawing-room in the land?), but the whole returns from his literary
labours up to 1819 had not amounted to £140; and even in 1829 he
remarks that he had worked hard through a long life for less pecuniary
emolument than a public performer earns for two or three songs.
Longman had at one time an opportunity of becoming Byron’s publisher,
but declined the _English Bards and Scotch Reviewers_ on account of
the violent attacks it contained upon his own poets--those of the Lake
school. With Scott we have seen that he had had dealings, and in these,
at all events, Sir Walter’s joke, that _Longmanum est errare_, did not
hold good. Before the collective edition of 1830, 44,000 copies of the
_Lay of the Last Minstrel_ were sold. Though Longman was inclined to
believe that Scott was not the author of _Waverley_, he was equally
anxious to secure the publication of some of that extraordinary series
of romances; and at a time when the Ballantynes were in trouble,
purchased _Guy Mannering_ by granting bills in advance for £1500, and
taking a portion of their stock, to the extent of about £600 more. The
_Monastery_ was also published by him in 1820, and he is said, though
the authority is more than dubious, to have paid Scott upwards of
£20,000 in about fifteen years.
What Scott was to Constable, and Byron to Murray, that was Moore
to Longman. “Anacreon Moore,” as he loved to be called, had gained
a naughty reputation from _Mr. Thomas Little’s Poems_, and, in
1811, we find him writing to Longman--“I am at last come to a
determination to bind myself to your service, if you hold the same
favourable disposition towards me as at our last conversation upon
business. To-morrow I shall be very glad to be allowed half-an-hour’s
conversation with you, and as I dare say I shall be _up all night
at Carlton House_, I do not think I could reach your house before
four o’clock. I told you before that I never could work without a
retainer. It will not, however, be of that exorbitant nature which
your liberality placed at my disposal the first time.” Soon after
this the Prince Regent threw over his old Whig friend, but Moore was
so successful in his political warfare that he more than gained as a
poet what he lost as a courtier, and his _Two-penny Post Bag_ went
through fourteen editions. He was, however, anxious to apply his genius
to the creation of some work more likely to raise his reputation than
the singing of lascivious songs, or the jerking off of political
squibs. Accordingly Perry, the editor of the _Morning Chronicle_, was
sent to discuss preliminary matters with Longman. “I am of opinion,”
said Perry, “that Mr. Moore ought to receive for his poem the largest
price that has been given in our day for such a work.” “That,” replied
Longman promptly, “was £3000.” “Exactly so,” rejoined the editor, “and
no smaller a sum ought he to receive.” Longman insisted upon a perusal
beforehand:--
“Longman has communicated his readiness to terms, on the basis of the
three thousand guineas, but requires a perusal beforehand; this I have
refused. I shall have no ifs.”
Again Moore writes, “To the honour and glory of romance, as well on
the publisher’s side as on the poet’s, this very generous view of the
transaction was without any difficulty acceded to;” and again, “There
has seldom occurred any transaction in which trade and poetry have
shone so satisfactorily in each other’s eyes.” So Moore left London
to find a quiet resting-place “in a lone cottage among the fields in
Derbyshire,” and there _Lalla Rookh_ was written; the snows of two
or three Derbyshire winters aiding, he avers, his imagination, by
contrast, to paint the everlasting summers and glowing scenery of the
East. The arrangement had hitherto been verbal, but on going up to
town, in the winter of 1814, he received the following agreement from
Longman.
“COPY OF TERMS WRITTEN TO MR. MOORE.
“That upon your giving into our hands a poem of yours of the
length of _Rokeby_, you shall receive from us the sum of £3000.
We also agree to the stipulation that the few songs which you
may introduce into the work shall be considered as reserved for
your own setting.”
Soon Moore writes to say that about 4000 lines are perfectly finished,
but he is unwilling to show any portion of the work until the 6000 are
completed, for fear of disheartenment. He requests Longman, however,
“to tell our friends that they are done, a poetic licence to prevent
the teasing wonderment of the literary quidnuncs at my being so long
about it.” Longman replies that “we are certainly impatient for the
perusal of your poem, but solely for our gratification. Your sentiments
are always honourable.” At length, after very considerable delays on
the part of the author, the poem appeared, and its wonderful success
fully justified the publisher’s extraordinary liberality. Moore drew a
thousand pounds for the discharge of his debts, and left, temporarily
only, we fear, £2000 in Longman’s hands, the interest of which was to
be paid quarterly to his father.
This was Moore’s greatest effort; nor did he attempt to surpass it. One
substantial proof of admiration of the poet’s performance should not
be overlooked: “The young Bristol lady,” says Moore in his diary, Dec.
23rd, 1818, “who inclosed me three pounds after reading _Lalla Rookh_
had very laudable ideas on the subject; and if every reader of _Lalla
Rookh_ had done the same I need never have written again.”
As it was, however, he was soon obliged to set to work once more--this
time as a biographer. The lives of Sheridan, Fitzgerald, and many
others, bear testimony to his industry; but in spite, perhaps because,
of their pleasant gossiping tone, they are far from accurate. At one
time he had so many lives upon his hands together, that he suggested
the feasibility of publishing a work to be called the _Cat_, which
should contain nine of them. His _Life of Byron_ we have already
alluded to, but we must again call attention to Longman’s generosity in
allowing him to transfer the work to Murray. Longman was not less eager
in his kindness to his clients in private than in business relations.
His Saturday “Weekly Literary Meetings” were about the pleasantest and
most sociable in London. As early as 1804 we find Southey writing to
Coleridge: “I wish you had called on Longman; that man has a kind heart
of his own, and I wish you to think so; the letter he sent me was a
proof of it. Go to one of his Saturday evenings, you will see a coxcomb
or two, and a dull fellow or two; but you will, perhaps, meet Turner
and Duppa, and Duppa is worth knowing.” Throughout the day the new
publications were displayed in a separate department for the use of the
literary men, and house dinners were of frequent occurrence; the whole
of the “Lake School” were steady recipients of Longman’s hospitality
whenever they came to town.
As, perhaps, the strongest proof of a man’s kindliness of heart,
Longman is invariably represented as being “almost adored by his
domestics, from his uniform attention to the comforts of those who have
grown gray in his service.” He was a liberal patron of the “Association
for the Relief of Decayed Booksellers,” and was also one of the
“Court of Assistants of the Company of Stationers,” but, with the
characteristic modesty of his disposition, paid the customary fine to
be allowed to decline the offices of warden and master of the company.
For many years the “House” had been London agents and part proprietors
of the _Edinburgh Review_, and when the commercial crash of 1826
destroyed Constable’s huge establishment, the property was virtually
in their own hands, and the number for December, 1826, is printed
for “Longman, Rees, Orme, Browne, and Green, London, and Adam Black,
Edinburgh;” and if we “read between the lines” of the new designation
we learn that Hurst had been concerned in some bill transactions,
and had been this year compelled to retire (he died an inmate of the
Charter House, in 1847), and we may also gather something of the strong
connection that was to be formed with the house of Adam Black.
Jeffrey retired from the editorial chair in 1829, but Macney Napier,
the editor of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_ was appointed in his
stead, and the literary management of the journal was still continued
in Edinburgh. Sydney Smith ceased to write for the _Review_ in 1827;
but in 1825 an article was contributed on Milton, by a young man of
five-and-twenty; and Mr. Thomas Babington Macaulay, who, as Moore said,
could do any mortal thing but forget, was destined to be, not only the
most brilliant of the daring and talented band of Edinburgh Reviewers,
but eventually, one of the most powerful contributors to Longman’s
fortune and reputation.[10]
To return again to educational works, we find that in Mangnall’s
_Questions_ a property had been acquired that fully rivalled Murray’s
_Mrs. Markham_. A type now of a hideously painful and parrot-like
system of teaching (what negations of talent our sisters and mothers
owe to this encyclopædic volume we shudder to sum up!) it was imitated
and printed in every direction. Poor Miss Mangnall! who recollects
now-a-days that in 1806 she commenced her literary life with a volume
of poems? A very similar book, but on scientific questions, was _Mrs.
Marcet’s Conversations_, which was not only profitable to Longman,
but American booksellers, up to the year 1853, had reaped an abundant
harvest from the sale of 160,000 copies.
The attempts already made by Constable and Murray to promote the
sale of cheap and yet excellent books, led Longman to establish his
_Cabinet Encyclopædia_. The management was given to Dr. Lardner,
then a professor at the London University, and all, or nearly all,
Longman’s literary connections were pressed into service on his staff
of contributors. In the prospectus we see the names of Scott, Moore,
Mackintosh, Coleridge, Miss Edgeworth, Herschell, Long, Brewster, De
Morgan, Thirlwall, and, of course, Southey. The _Times_ gave more
than a broad hint that some of the names were put forward as lures,
and nothing else. Southey was anxious that this “insinuation” should
be brought before a court of law, where the writer may be “taught
that not every kind of slander may be published with impunity.” The
proprietors, however, contented themselves with publishing books, most
indubitably written by the authors whose names they bore. The first
volume was published in 1829, and at the close of the series, in 1846,
one hundred and thirty-three volumes had been issued, the whole of
which were eminently successful, and some few of them, such as Sir John
Herschell’s _Astronomy_, in particular, have since been expanded into
recognised and standard works.
Another valuable work which has been a constant source of wealth to
the firm, somewhat similar in scope to the preceding, was McCulloch’s
_Commercial Dictionary_, first published in 1832; in which year the
present Mr. Thomas Longman was admitted a partner, being joined by his
brother, Mr. William Longman, in 1839. With young Mr. Thomas Longman,
Moore appears to have been particularly friendly, addressing him always
as “Dear Tom.” As far back as 1829, we see the poet requesting that
some one might be sent over to have “poor Barbara’s” grave made tidy,
for fear that his wife Bessy, who was about to make a loving pilgrimage
thither, might be shocked, and we read afterwards that “young Longman
kindly rode over twice to Hornsey for the purpose.” In Moore’s diary,
too, for 1837, we find many regrets for the loss of Rees--a man “who
may be classed among those solemn business-ties, the breaking of which
by death cannot but be felt solemnly, if not deeply.” And again, later
on, in 1840: “Indeed, I will venture to say that there are few tributes
from authors to publishers more honourable (or I will fairly say more
deserved) than those which will be found among my papers relative to
the transactions for many years between myself and my friends of the
‘Row.’”
Thomas Longman the third was now an old man, but still constantly
attentive to business. In his time he had seen many changes, but none
more striking than those that occupied his latter days. _Madoc_ was
still lying on his shelves, but Southey was poet-laureate. Scott and
Byron had in succession entranced the world. They had now withdrawn,
and no third king arose to demand recognition. It was in the calm that
followed that Wordsworth obtained a hearing. In 1839, the University
of Oxford conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Laws, amid the
enthusiastic applause of a crowded theatre. Younger men were coming
to the fore, and though his contemporaries were fast dying off, still
Longman was as eager for business as ever, and as ready, when it was
over, for his chief pleasure--the enjoyments of domestic life; for his
favourite pursuits--the love of music and the culture of fruits and
flowers. As far as health and activity went, though in his 72nd year,
he was still in the prime of life, when, on his usual ride to town, his
horse fell, near the Small-pox Hospital, St. Pancras, and he was thrown
over the animal’s head and struck the ground with such violence as to
fracture his skull and injure his spine; and in a few days afterwards
he died at his residence, Greenhill House, Hampstead, on 28th August,
1842--leaving a blank, not only in his own family circle, but in the
hearts of all who had known him as a master, or had reaped a benefit
from the uniform generosity of his business dealings.
Mr. McCulloch and many of his literary clients erected a monument, the
bust of which, by Mr. Moore, is said to be a good likeness, to his
memory--an affectionate tribute seldom paid by men-of-letters to a
publisher--now standing in Hampstead church.
His personalty was sworn under £200,000, and was principally left to
his widow and family. The former, however, did not long survive her
sorrow, but died some ten weeks after her husband.
Their second son, Mr. Charles Longman, of Two Waters, joined Mr.
Dickenson, in the trade of wholesale stationers and paper-makers,
in which they have since then attained a pre-eminence. Their eldest
daughter married Mr. Spottiswoode, the Queen’s printer, and the third
daughter is the wife of Reginald Bray, Esq., of Shere.
The succession of a Thomas Longman to the chiefdom of the house is,
Mr. Knight says somewhere, as certain as the accession of a George was
in the Hanoverian dynasty: and the present Mr. Longman, aided by his
brother William, took command of the gigantic firm in Paternoster Row.
The very year of their father’s death was a year to be long remembered
in the annals of the firm for an unusually successful “hit,” in the
production of the _Lays of Ancient Rome_. Not even in the palmy days
of Scott and Byron was such an immediate and enormous circulation
attained. In 1844, Macaulay ceased to contribute to the _Edinburgh
Review_--nearly twenty years from the date of his first contributions;
receiving latterly, we believe, £100 as a minimum price for an article.
A collective edition of these essays was published in America; and
within five years sixty thousand volumes were sold, and, as many of
these were imported into England, Macaulay authorised the proprietors
of the _Review_ to issue an English edition, which certainly proved
the most remunerative collection of essays ever published in this or
any other country. The English edition contains twenty-seven essays,
in some editions twenty-six. The Philadelphia edition contains eleven
additional essays.[11]
These essays were all very excellent, but Macaulay’s admirers regretted
with Tom Moore, “that his great powers should not be concentrated
upon one great work, instead of being scattered in Sibyl’s leaves,”
and great was the satisfaction in 1841, when it was known that he was
engaged upon a History of England, and the publication of the work was
looked forward to with the greatest eagerness; and in 1849 the first
two volumes appeared. Success was immediate--“Within six months,”
says the _Edinburgh Review_, “the book has run through five editions,
involving an issue of above 18,000 copies.” By 1856, the sale of
these two volumes had reached nearly 40,000 copies, and in the United
States 125,000 copies were sold in five years. For the privilege of
publication for ten years, it is said that Mr. Longman allowed the
author £600 per annum; the copyright remaining in Macaulay’s possession.
This success, however, was nothing to that achieved by the third and
fourth volumes; and the day of their publication, 17th Dec., 1855, will
be long remembered in the annals of Paternoster Row. It was presumed
that 25,000 copies would be quite sufficient to meet the first public
demand; but this enormous pile of books, weighing fifty-six tons, was
exhausted the first day, and eleven thousand applicants were still
unsatisfied. In New York one house sold 73,000 volumes (three different
styles and prices) in ten days, and 25,000 more were immediately issued
in Philadelphia--10,000 were stereotyped, printed, and in the hands
of the publishers within fifty working hours. The aggregate sale in
England and America, within four weeks of publication, is said to have
exceeded 150,000 copies. Macaulay is also stated to have received
£16,000 from Mr. Longman for the copyright of the third and fourth
volumes.[12]
Upon the death of Mr. Macney Napier, the editorship of the _Review_ was
transferred to Mr. Empson, Jeffrey’s son-in-law; while he in turn was
succeeded by Sir George Cornewall Lewis, who finally gave place to Mr.
H. Reeve.
In the way of cheap literature the “Travellers’ Library,” commenced
in 1851, is deservedly worthy of notice. In this year occurred the
unusual phenomenon of a pamphlet, bearing on its title-page the joint
names of Mr. Longman and Mr. Murray. This was a reprint of some
correspondence with Earl Russell, in his official capacity, as to the
injustice of the State undertaking the publication of school-books
at the national expense, and compelling the government schools to
adopt them--thus creating a perfect monopoly and interfering with
private enterprise. The books in question were published by the Irish
Educational Commissioners, but more than three-quarters of them were
eventually sold in England--many of them, especially the collection of
poetry, were, it was further urged, pirated from copyright works. The
correspondence was long and protracted on the side of the publishers;
and as is often the case in an important public question, Earl
Russell’s replies consisted of the merest acknowledgment. Mr. Longman
had, however, an opportunity of a pleasant revenge. Tom Moore had
left all his papers, letters, and journals to the care of his friend,
Earl Russell--a man who, as Sydney Smith said, thought he could do
anything--“build St. Paul’s, cut for the stone, or command the Channel
Fleet.” The one thing apparently he could not do was the editorship
or composition of a Poet’s Life. The material, indeed, was ample, and
seems to have been printed pretty much as it came to hand. However, the
sum which Mr. Longman gave for the papers appeared, together with the
pension, an ample provision for the devoted “Bessy.”
Among the later efforts of the firm we may here mention the issue of
many finely illustrated works, and we must also chronicle the fact
that in 1863--the business connections and stock of the Parkers were
added to the enormous trade of the leviathan firm. Giving a glance
at the changes that have taken place in the members of the firm, we
have merely space to note that at Cosmo Orme’s death in 1859 Mr. Brown
retired, and at his decease on the 24th of March, 1869, left an immense
fortune, more than £100,000 going in various legacies, of which the
Booksellers’ Provident Retreat and Institution each received £10,000,
the Royal Literary Fund £3000, and the Stationers’ Company in all
£10,000, the balance after the various legacies, and there were no
less than sixty-eight legatees, going to the grandchildren of Thomas
Norton Longman. The personalty of Mr. B. E. Green, who died about the
same date, was sworn under £200,000. Two of the former assistants, Mr.
Dyer and Mr. Reader, have, on the good old system, been admitted to
the firm, which now stands “Longmans, Green, Reader, and Dyer.” Mr.
Roberts, as before stated, died in 1865.
Both the Messrs. Longman are well known for their literary talents--Mr.
Thomas Longman as editor of a magnificent edition of the New Testament;
and Mr. William as an historical author. The first of his works was, we
believe, privately printed, _A Tour in the Alps, by W. L._ Mr. William
Longman has always been an enthusiastic Alpine traveller. He has,
however, more recently published a _History of the Life and Times of
Edward III._, in two volumes, and at our present writing a new work has
just appeared in which he says playfully, “I trust authors will forgive
me, and not revenge themselves by turning publishers;” and he adds
heartily and generously, “There is, nevertheless, some advantage in a
publisher dabbling in literature, for it shows him the difficulties
with which an author has to contend--the labour which is indispensable
to produce a work which may be relied on--and it increases the sympathy
which should, and which in these days does, exist between author and
publisher.” These latter lines surely form a very fitting sentence with
which to conclude our short history of the house of Longman.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
_CONSTABLE, CADELL, AND BLACK._
THE “EDINBURGH REVIEW,” “WAVERLEY NOVELS,” AND “ENCYCLOPÆDIA
BRITANNICA.”
From 1790 to 1820 Edinburgh richly deserved the honourable title of
“Modern Athens.” Her University and her High School, directed by men
pre-eminently fitted for their duties, capable of firing their pupils’
minds with a noble purpose, endowed with a lofty ideal of a master’s
responsibilities--in fact, possessed of all the qualities that Dr.
Arnold afterwards displayed elsewhere--attracted and educated a set
of young men, unrivalled, perhaps, in modern times for genius and
energy, for wit and learning. Nothing, then, was wanting to their due
encouragement but a liberal patron, and this position was speedily
occupied by a publisher, who, in his munificence and venturous spirit,
soon outstripped his boldest English rival--whose one fault was, in
fact, that of always being a Mæcenas, never a tradesman.
Archibald Constable was born on the 24th of February, 1776, at Kellie,
in the parish of Carnbee in Fifeshire. He was the son of Thomas
Constable, who, through his sagacity in rural matters, had risen
to the position of land steward or baillie to the Earl of Kellie.
The first thirteen or fourteen years of Archibald’s life were passed
beneath his father’s roof, and his education, such as the parish school
of Carnbee then afforded, consisted of a course of reading in the
vernacular tongue, writing, arithmetic, and some elementary lessons
in trigonometry, and beyond this humble curriculum, we believe his
subsequent acquisitions did not much extend. Still, though he never
attained any proficiency in academical studies, his native talents and
address generally enabled him to both surmount and conceal it.
From an early age Archibald was possessed of a desire to enter upon a
bookseller’s useful career--a desire in his case not altogether unmixed
with the hope of acquiring literary distinction. In 1788 therefore,
he became apprenticed to Mr. Peter Hill, bookseller of Edinburgh, the
old friend and correspondent of Burns. While a lad in Hill’s shop he
seems to have devoted his leisure hours to the acquisition of that
knowledge of the early and rare productions of the Scottish press, and
of all publications relating generally to the history, antiquities,
and literature of Scotland, for which, throughout his subsequent
career, he continued to exhibit a strong predilection. About the time
of the expiration of his apprenticeship he married the daughter of
David Willison, a printer, who, though previously very averse to the
match, was subsequently of some service in enabling him to start for
himself. Having hired a small shop in the High Street, afterwards
rendered conspicuous by his celebrity as a publisher, he issued, in
November, 1795, the first of his Sale Catalogues of rare and curious
books, which soon drew to his shop all the bibliographers and lovers
of learning in the city. In this line of trade he speedily acquired
considerable eminence, not so much by the extensiveness of his stock,
for his capital was of the smallest, as by his personal activity, his
congenial curiosity, and his quick intelligence. Here it was that
Heber, in the course of his bibliomaniacal prowlings, came across
Leyden, perched perpetually on a ladder reading some venerable folio,
which his purse forbade him to purchase, but which through Constable’s
kindness was placed in this manner at his disposal. Heber soon brought
him under Scott’s notice, and thus had the pleasure of introducing
the two most promising young men of the day to each other. Constable
had, however, an ambition too strong to be satisfied with the routine
business of a second-hand book-shop. Even before his shop in the High
Street was fairly opened, he had himself offered a book to the trade--a
reprint of Bishop Beveridge’s _Private Thoughts on Religion_, struck
off coarsely upon a whitey-brown sort of “tea-paper;” but still it was
his first, and, as Archibald proudly said, “it was a pretty enough
little bookie!”
[Illustration: Archibald Constable.
1775-1827.]
Among other publications in which from his first outset he had
been engaged, and which at the time he esteemed as by no means
inconsiderable, were Campbell’s “History of Scottish Poetry,” Dalzell’s
“Fragments of Scottish History,” and Leyden’s edition of the “Complaint
of Scotland.” In 1801 he acquired the property of the _Scots Magazine_,
a miscellany which had commenced in 1739, and which was still esteemed
as a repository of curious facts. This congenial publication engaged
at first a considerable share of his personal attention, and, aided
by the talents of Leyden, Murray, and Macneil, its reputation as a
critical journal was raised into some importance.
Of all the extraordinary geniuses with whom Constable came into
contact, none were more conspicuous to those near enough to judge than
Leyden, his first editor of the periodical. A poet, an antiquarian,
an Orientalist, he will long be distinguished among those whom the
elasticity and ardour of genius have raised to distinction from an
obscure and humble origin. The son of a day labourer at Denholm,
he had, by sheer force of will, worked his way to the college of
Edinburgh, where he at once obtained the friendship of many eminent
literary men. His acquaintance with Scott soon introduced him into the
best society in Edinburgh--which was then the most intellectual society
in Europe--and here his wild uncouthness of demeanour did not at all
interfere with the general appreciation of his genius, his gigantic
endowments, and his really amiable virtues. Fixing his ambition on the
East, where he hoped to rival the achievements of Sir William Jones, he
obtained in 1802 the promise of some literary appointment in the East
India Company’s service; but when the time drew near it was discovered
that the patronage of the season had been exhausted, with the exception
of one surgeon-assistant’s commission, and he was informed that if he
wished to accept it he must qualify within six months. He grappled
at once with the task, and accomplished what takes other men three
or four years in attainment within the incredibly short space of six
months. He sailed for India in 1803, and died in 1811, at the early age
of thirty-six, having in the seven years of his sojourn achieved the
reputation of the most marvellous of Orientalists. His poetical remains
were collected and given to the public in 1821, and exhibit in some
instances a power of numbers which for mere melody of sound has seldom
been surpassed in the English language.
In 1802, Constable commenced the _Farmer’s Magazine_, under the
management of an able East Lothian agriculturist, Mr. R. Brown, then
of Markle. This work enjoyed a reputation contemporary with the whole
of his business life. Altogether, Constable was making fair way as a
publisher, when, in 1802, the _Edinburgh Review_ burst like a bombshell
upon an astonished world, and gave him just reason to believe that his
professional fortune was thoroughly ensured in the most glorious manner.
The origin of the _Review_, like the beginnings of all things, is
wrapped in doubt and mystery. Hitherto in the critical department of
English literature, a review had been little more than a peg upon which
to hang books for advertisement, and in which the general bearings
of science, literature, and politics were left almost untouched. In
Scotland, criticism was at a still lower ebb, for the country had
possessed no regular review at all since the old _Edinburgh Review_ had
expired in 1756, after a flickering existence of a twelvemonth.
“One day,” writes Sydney Smith, “we happened to meet in the eighth
or ninth storey (it was the third) of a flat in Buccleuch-place, the
elevated residence of the then Mr. Jeffrey. I proposed that we should
get up a review. This was acceded to with acclamations. I was appointed
editor, and remained long enough in Edinburgh to edit the first number
of the _Edinburgh Review_. The motto I proposed was--
‘Tenui musam meditamur avenâ.’
‘We cultivate literature upon a little oatmeal.’
But this was too near the truth to be admitted, and so we took our
present grave motto from Publius Lyrus, of whom none of us had, I am
sure, read a single line; and so began what has since turned out to be
a very important and able journal. When I left Edinburgh it fell into
the stronger hands of Lord Jeffrey and Lord Brougham, and reached the
highest point of popularity and success.”
It was resolved to bring out the first number of the work in June,
1802; but its outset was surrounded with many difficulties, arising
from want of experience in its chief conductors. The meetings of the
conspirators were held in a little room off Willison’s (Constable’s
father-in-law’s) office in Craig’s-court, to which each man was
requested to steal singly, by whichever way would be least suspicious;
and there they examined and criticised each other’s productions, and
corrected the proof sheets as they were thrown off. Here it was that
Jeffrey once rushed down excitedly into Willison’s printing-office,
crying, “Where is your pepper-box, man--your pepper-box?” In vain the
printer declared he had no such useful article on the premises; Jeffrey
persisted that the proof sheets must have been dusted with commas from
a pepper-box, so lavish had the printer been with his points. Through
various delays, typographical and otherwise, the first number, as we
have seen, did not appear until the following November.
Lord Brougham, in the first volume of his recently-published
autobiography, flatly contradicts this account. “Nothing,” he says,
“can be more imaginary than nearly the whole of it.” Still, when
Sydney Smith published his version of the history, neither Lord
Brougham nor any other person interested took the trouble to contradict
it; and we are inclined to accept rather an account written within a
short time of the foundation of the _Review_ than to receive another
version written by an octogenarian at an interval of more than half a
century. A letter, moreover, of Sydney Smith’s, first published in the
_Athenæum_ of April 1st, 1871, shows clearly that the proprietors of
the journal presented him “with books to the value of £100 (corrected
to £114) as a memorial of their respect for having planned and
contributed to a work which to them has been a source of reputation as
well as of emolument.” On the other hand, Sydney Smith’s editorship
certainly did not extend beyond the first number, and was probably even
in that subject to the direction of Jeffrey.
The list of contributions to the first four numbers may, however, be
accepted as indisputable evidence of Brougham’s enormous powers of
work. To these four numbers he contributed twenty-one articles, besides
portions of four others. Smith contributed eighteen, Jeffrey sixteen,
and Horner seven. Brougham, too, kept up this rate of contribution more
steadily than any of his colleagues. To the first twenty numbers he
contributed no less than eighty articles, Jeffrey seventy-five, Smith
twenty-three, and Horner fourteen. By this time the new periodical was
fairly launched, and the additional services of such men as Playfair,
Thomas Brown, Walter Scott, Hallam, Murray, and Stodhart, had been
secured.
The extensive circulation and reputation of the _Edinburgh Review_
was, Scott himself says, due to two circumstances; first that it
was entirely uninfluenced by the booksellers; and, secondly, the
regular payment of editor and contributors: Jeffrey receiving, from
the commencement of his labours, £300 per annum (afterwards increased
to £800), whilst every contributor was compelled, even if wealthy, to
accept a minimum bonus of £10 (afterwards raised to £16) per sheet.
Never before had the enterprise of young and almost unknown men started
so ambitious a scheme, and never since have pluck and learning,
talent and genius been so amply rewarded. They found the world of
English society, English literature, and English politics warped and
dwarfed--scared by the French Revolution and the American Republic
into a dormant state of Toryism--they found matters thus, and in
an incredibly short time they almost changed the current of the
national thought. Jeffrey, with his clear, legal mind, his startling
and brilliant manner of expression, his sarcasm cold and sharp-edged
as a Toledo blade, unfortunately only too capable of wounding too
deeply--won the position of the greatest English critic of all time,
and of the most eminent Scottish lawyer of the day--achieving the
highest honours open to the advocates of Edinburgh. Brougham, with his
ponderous learning, his marvellous versatility, his immense powers of
work, became not only the first English lawyer, but one of the first
English statesmen of his time. Sydney Smith, the wittiest man certainly
of his century, might have attained the highest honours open to his
calling, had he not preferred the more humble and more praiseworthy
career of being a liberal clergyman at a time when the wearers of his
cloth were one and all rank Tories to the backbone.
Constable, who had at first been rather startled and alarmed at the
design of the _Edinburgh Review_, was not prepared, any more than
the projectors themselves, for its immediate and splendid success.
Without a publisher of his cast of mind the work, however, might
have encountered some difficulties, and he was not slow to perceive,
nor backward to follow, that line of conduct towards its conductors,
without the observance of which the new relations between them could
not long have been sustained harmoniously. The present proprietors of
the work became, some years after its commencement, sharers of the
property, but the publishing department remained, we believe, under his
direction for many years.
In 1804 Constable assumed as partner Alexander Gibson Hunter, of
Blackness, and from that time the business was carried on under the
title of Archibald Constable and Co. In the following year, 1805,
he added to the list of his periodicals the _Medical and Surgical
Journal_, a work projected in concert with Dr. Andrew Duncan, and
which existed till 1855, when it was united to the _Medical Journal of
Science_. It was in this year, also, that the firm published a poem,
which was eventually to do more for the enlargement of their business
and the honour of their name than even the famous _Review_ itself.
Walter Scott, as we have seen, while still unknown to fame, had been a
frequent visitor at Constable’s old book-shop. The publishers of the
first edition of the _Lay of the Last Minstrel_ were Longman and Co. of
London, and Archibald Constable and Co. of Edinburgh; the latter firm
taking but a small venture in the risk. The profit was to be divided
equally between the author and the publishers, and Scott’s portion
amounted to £169 6_s._ Longman, when a second edition was called for,
offered £500 for the copyright, which was immediately accepted, but
they afterwards added, as the Introduction says, “£100 in their own
unsolicited kindness.” In the history of British poetry nothing had
ever equalled the demand for the _Lay of the Last Minstrel_. 44,000
copies were disposed of before Scott superintended the edition of 1830,
to which the biographical introductions were prefixed.
In the ensuing year Constable issued a beautiful edition of what
he termed _Works of Walter Scott, Esq._, comprising the poem just
mentioned, the “Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border,” “Sir Tristram,” and
a series of “Lyrical Ballads.”
In 1806 it was rumoured that Scott had a new poem in hand. Longman
at once opened negotiation as to its purchase, but in vain; and in a
short time the London publishers heard with a feeling of jealousy, not
unmixed with honest amazement, that Constable had offered one thousand
guineas for a poem which had not yet been completed, and of which he
had not even seen the scheme.
It may be gathered from the Introduction of 1830 that private
circumstances of a delicate nature rendered it desirable for Scott to
obtain the immediate command of such a sum; the price was actually paid
long before the poem was published; and it suited well with Constable’s
character to imagine that his readiness to advance the money may have
outstripped the calculations of more experienced dealers.
The bargain having, however, been concluded he was too wary to keep the
venture entirely to himself, and he consequently tendered one-fourth of
the copyright to Mr. Miller of Albemarle Street, and to Mr. Murray,
then of Fleet Street, London, and in both cases the offer was eagerly
accepted.
_Marmion_, the poem in question, which had been announced by an
advertisement in 1857, as _Six Epistles from Ettrick Forest_, met with
an immense success, and 2000 copies, at a guinea and a half each, were
disposed of in less than a month.
As an instance of the freedom Constable left to Jeffrey in the
conduct of the _Review_, we are not a little astonished to read that
the venture, in which he had risked so much, was attacked in a most
slashing manner in his own journal. Jeffrey, thinking nothing of so
ordinary a circumstance, sent the article to Scott with a note stating
that he would come to dinner on the following Tuesday. Scott, though
wounded by the tone of the _Review_, did his best to conceal it. Mrs.
Scott, however, was very cool in her manner, and, as Jeffrey was
taking leave, could no longer restrain her pique, and in her broken
English--“Well, guid night, Mr. Jeffrey; dey tell me you have abused
Scott in the _Review_; and I hope Mr. Constable has paid you well for
writing it.” This anecdote, insignificant in itself, prepares us to
some extent for the coldness between them, which led Scott to originate
the _Quarterly Review_.
Emboldened still further by the success of _Marmion_, Constable now
engaged Scott to edit the works of Swift, and as Scott had several like
engagements on hand--he held, in fact, five separate agreements at the
same time, for the London publishers--offered him £1500 for his new
undertaking.
Constable was at this time in an apparently assured line of success.
Though of a very sanguine nature--a quality without which no projector
could possibly succeed--he was one of the most sagacious persons who
ever followed his profession. A brother poet of Scott says of him: “Our
butteracious friend turns up a deep draw-well;” and another eminent
writer still more intimately connected had already christened him “the
Crafty”--a title which, of all the flying burrs, was the one that
stuck the firmest. His fair and handsome physiognomy was marked by an
unmistakable and bland astuteness of expression. He generally avoided
criticism as well as authorship, both being out of his “proper line.”
But of this “proper line,” and his own qualification for it, his esteem
was ample. The one flaw, and the fatal flaw, in his character as a
business man was his hatred of accounts, for he systematically refused
during the most vigorous years of his life to examine or sign a balance
sheet. Scott, in describing his appearance, says, “Ay, Constable is
indeed a grand-looking chield. He puts me in mind of Fielding’s apology
for Lady Booby--to wit that Joseph Andrews had an air which to those
who had not seen many noblemen, would give an idea of nobility.” His
conversation was manly and vigorous, abounding in Scotch anecdotes
of the old times, and he could, when he had a mind, control the
extravagant vanity which at times made him ridiculous. His advice was
often useful to Scott, and more than one of the subjects of the novels,
and many of the titles, were due to his recommendations. Cadell, his
partner, says that in his high moods he used to stalk up and down the
room exclaiming, “By God! I am all but the author of the Waverley
novels!”
Of course, as a successful publisher, Constable was overwhelmed
with the manuscripts of embryo genius. One or two stories are worth
repeating of the men who applied to him, but in vain. Hogg, the Ettrick
Shepherd, had already sold a volume of minor poems to Constable, when
setting to work in earnest he went to him again; but “the Crafty” was
too wise to buy a pig in a poke, and refused to have anything to do
with the matter until he had seen the MS. This reasonable request the
poet refused with, “What skill have you about the merit of a book?” “It
may be so, Hogg,” replied the Jupiter Tonans of Scottish publishers;
“but I know as well how to sell a book as any man, which should be some
consequence of yours, and I know too how to buy one.” Hogg, however,
easily found another publisher, and the _Queen’s Wake_ was soon as
widely popular as its great merits deserved.
The other refusal, unfortunately, did not end in the same happy manner.
Robert Tannahill, a Scotch weaver, whose songs in their artless
sweetness, their simplicity of diction, their tenderness of sentiment,
have long since won distinction, came up to Edinburgh very poor in
purse, but rich in the future that poetic aspirations imaged forth.
He put his manuscripts into Constable’s hands, offering the whole of
them at a very small price. Day after day he waited for an answer,
with a mind alternating between hope and fear. Constable, who always
distrusted his own judgment in such matters, and who, perhaps, at the
moment had no one else to consult, eventually returned the poems.
Tannahill in a madness of despair put a period to his existence, adding
one to those “young shadows” who hover round the shrine of genius, as
if to warn all but the boldest from attempting to approach it.
The business of Constable’s house was now so large and extensive
that he thought it a hardship that so much of his wares should pass
through the hands of English agents, who not only absorbed a large
share of his profits, but who could not be expected to serve him with
the same zeal as his own immediate followers. He and his Edinburgh
partner, therefore, in 1808, joined with Charles Hunter and John Park
in commencing a general bookselling establishment in London, under the
designation of Constable, Hunter, Park, and Hunter.
Shortly after this a breach that had been created between Scott and
Constable widened until at last they parted. Scott always maintained
that the quarrel was directly caused by the intemperate language of
Hunter, Constable’s original partner; but the severance was probably in
reality due to the influence of a third person--James Ballantyne--and
was, perhaps to a certain extent, influenced by a feeling of pique
at Jeffrey’s recent conduct. In 1808 he took a part, perhaps as a
suggester, certainly as a zealous promoter, in the establishment of
the _Quarterly Review_, as a political and literary counterpoise to
the _Edinburgh Review_. Already, in 1805, he had become a partner in
the printing house of James Ballantyne and Company, though the fact
remained for the public, and for all his friends but one, a profound
secret. “The forming of this connection,” says Lockhart, “was one of
the most important steps in Scott’s life. He continued bound by it
during twenty years, and its influence on his literary exertions and
his worldly fortunes was productive of much good and not a little
evil. Its effects were in truth so mixed and balanced during the
vicissitudes of a long and vigorous career, that I at this moment
doubt whether it ought, on the whole, to be considered with more
of satisfaction or regret.” Scott’s wish, openly expressed in his
correspondence, of thwarting Constable in his attempts to obtain a
monopoly of Scottish literature, resulted in the establishment of a
new and rival bookselling firm, under the title of John Ballantyne
and Co., to which he appears to have supplied the whole capital--at
any rate he subscribed his own half, with one-fourth, the portion of
James Ballantyne, and not improbably also the other fourth for John
Ballantyne.
John and James Ballantyne were the sons of a merchant at Kelso, and
here it was they went to school with Walter Scott, and thus commenced
an acquaintance so fraught with interest to all three. Early in life
James Ballantyne, though not bred to the trade, nor “to the manner
born,” opened a printing house at Kelso and started the _Kelso Mail_
newspaper, in which his brother John soon joined him. Having made some
improvements in the art of printing, which rendered their provincial
printing famous, they were persuaded to move to Edinburgh, and here
they founded a press which, rivalling in its productions the works of
a Baskerville or a Bensley, is at this present time as famous as ever.
From their first start their old connection with Scott was serviceable,
and in 1800 they printed his first important work, the _Minstrelsy of
the Scottish Border_, and from the time, 1805, when he first became
commercially interested in their business, they were firm friends and
faithful allies. Scott, to his dying day, certainly reciprocated their
kindly feelings, though Lockhart, his biographer, has since his death
said very harsh things of the evil resulting from the connection. It
is only fair to the Ballantynes to remember that both before and
after the period of partnership with him, their house was eminently
successful. In the meantime, Constable was busy publishing the works of
Dugald Stewart, who at this time occupied the same place in metaphysics
as Sir Walter did in poetry. The _Philosophical Essays_, published
in 1810, excited great, and even popular, attention. He also became
the proprietor of the _Encyclopædia Britannica_, for which he paid an
enormous price, and to which he published an excellent supplement. We
shall, however, treat more fully of the _Encyclopædia_ in connection
with Mr. Adam Black. We may here mention, as among Constable’s other
successful publications, Wood’s excellent edition of Douglas’s
_Scottish Peerage_, and Chalmers’ _Caledonia_.
The London branch was found to be unattended with the expected
advantages, and was given up in 1811. In the early part of this same
year Hunter retired from the Edinburgh house, upon which Constable,
acting upon the liberal view he always entertained as to the value
of his stock, and being, perhaps, not unwilling to impress the world
with an exalted idea of his property, allowed his partner a greater
amount of actual cash (£17,000 is understood to be the sum) than
was really his due. Robert Cathcart, of Drum, writer-to-the-signet,
and Robert Cadell, then a clerk in his employ, were admitted as
partners. Cathcart, however, dying the following year, Cadell remained
Constable’s sole partner.
Constable had, of course, felt considerably hurt at Scott’s desertion.
Sometimes it is related he would pace up and down the room, as was
his wont, raving grandiloquently of those who kick down the ladder by
which they have risen. But now that Hunter had left the firm, and now
that it was found that the new _Quarterly_ did not in the least damage
the value of the old one, a reconciliation could not but take place
between men who had formerly been so friendly, and on the publication
of the _Lady of the Lake_, Constable willingly gave the Ballantynes the
value of his experience and trade knowledge, though he was not directly
interested in the work.
The new poem was published just before the season for excursions, and
thousands rushed off at once to view the scenery of Loch Katrine; and
it is a well-ascertained fact that from the date of the appearance of
this volume, assisted by subsequent of his publications, the post-horse
duty in Scotland rose in an extraordinary degree.
Scott now found out that his move to the Ballantynes had not been
attended with the success he expected. John Ballantyne proved but an
irregular hand at book-keeping, and James was too much addicted to good
cheer (or Lockhart sadly belies him) to be really serviceable as a
business man. In vain did Scott write amusing letters of remonstrance;
the publisher’s business was neglected, and the firm, as booksellers,
fell into difficulties. Constable was appealed to, and, finally, for
£2000 consented to purchase most of the stock, and a complete business
reconciliation was effected between him and Scott. The Ballantynes,
however, still maintained their printing house, in which Scott was
secretly the principal proprietor, and at which he insisted that all
his own works should at all times, no matter who the publisher, be
printed.
About the year 1805 Scott had written a third part of a novel, which
was advertised by John Ballantyne, under the title of _Waverley_,
but he was unwilling to risk the loss of his poetical reputation by
attempting a new style of composition. He, therefore, threw aside the
work, and stumbling upon it in 1811, when his poetical reputation
was beginning to wane, and soon after he had threatened, half in fun
and half in earnest, “If I fail now I will write prose for life,”
he at once completed the story. The current rumour of the new novel
having been rejected by several London publishers, is entirely untrue.
The work was printed by the Ballantynes, and through the whole
series the greatest secrecy as to the author’s name was preserved.
James Ballantyne himself transcribed the “copy,” and copied Scott’s
corrections on to a duplicate proof sheet; nor was there a single
instance of treachery throughout the whole time of the secret.
When the printed volumes of _Waverley_ were put into Constable’s hands,
he did not for a moment doubt its authorship, but at once offered £700
for the copyright: this, we must remember, for a work to be published
anonymously, at a time when Miss Edgeworth, the most popular novelist
of her day, had never realized a like sum. The offer was, however,
declined, and ultimately an arrangement was come to by which author and
publisher were to share the profits.
_Waverley_ took two or three months to win public favour, and then a
perfect _furore_ set in. Sloop-load after sloop-load was sent off to
the London market, and on the rumoured loss of one of these vessels,
half London was in despair. The interest, too, excited by public
curiosity as to the author’s name, was carefully fostered, and in a
short time 12,000 copies were disposed of.
Scott employed part of his literary gain in purchasing a property
within three miles of Melrose, and gradually enlarged the
dwelling-house until it became a castellated mansion of considerable
size. The desire of becoming an extensive landed proprietor, became
with him a far stronger passion than any craving for literary fame.
It was more his desire, according to James Ballantyne himself, to
“add as much as possible to the little realm of Abbotsford, in order
that he might take his place, not among the great literary names
which posterity is to revere, but among the country gentlemen of
Roxburghshire.”
Under the influence of this infatuation, Scott produced a series of
novels, of which it will suffice to state the names and dates.
To _Waverley_ succeeded, in 1815, _Guy Mannering_; in 1816, _The
Antiquary_, and the first series of the _Tales of My Landlord_,
containing _The Black Dwarf_ and _Old Mortality_; in 1818, _Rob Roy_
and the second series of the _Tales of My Landlord_, containing the
_Heart of Mid Lothian_; and, in 1819, the third series, containing the
_Bride of Lammermoor_ and a _Legend of Montrose_. _Ivanhoe_ was to
have been issued as a separate work, by another anonymous author, so
as to spur the interest of a public that might possibly be flagging;
but the publication of a novel in London, pretending to be a fourth
series of the _Tales of My Landlord_, determined him to produce it as
the veritable production of the author of _Waverley_. This was followed
in quick succession by _The Monastery_ and _The Abbot_, in 1820;
_Kenilworth_ and _The Pirate_, in 1821; _The Fortunes of Nigel_ and
_Hallidan Hill_, a dramatic poem, for the copyright of which Constable
gave £1000, in 1822; _Peveril of the Peak_, _Quentin Durward_, and
_St. Ronan’s Well_, in 1823; _Red Gauntlet_, in 1824; and _Woodstock_,
in 1825.
The vast amount of business arising from these publications, produced
in Constable’s mind a conviction that he was a wealthy and prosperous
man. Though never possessed of much free capital, he saw around him
every day such proofs of an enlarging amount of stock, that nothing
less than the demonstration of figures--a demonstration he cordially
hated--could have given him greater assurance of his affluent
condition. Like Scott, he, too, was intoxicated with success. He had
a magnificent way of transacting all business, and living rather like
a princely father of letters, than a tradesman aiming at making them
subservient to his use, he was led into an expenditure beyond his means.
Another error lay in his yielding to Scott’s desire for money, and
the means of raising money by pre-payment for literary work yet to be
accomplished. Of Scott’s profits on his works, Lockhart makes the
following statements: “Before Sir Walter went to London, in November,
1821, he concluded another negotiation of importance with the house of
Constable and Co. They agreed to give, for the remaining copyright of
the four novels published between December, 1819, and January, 1821--to
wit _Ivanhoe_, _The Monastery_, _The Abbot_, and _Kenilworth_--the
sum of five thousand guineas. The stipulation about not revealing
the author’s name under a penalty of £2000, was repeated. By these
four novels, the fruits of scarcely more than a twelve months’
labour, he had already cleared at least £10,000 before this bargain
was completed.... I cannot pretend to guess what the actual state of
Scott’s pecuniary affairs was at the time when John Ballantyne’s death
relieved them from one great source of complication and difficulty....
He must (in his improvements at Abbotsford) have reckoned on clearing
£30,000, at least, in the course of two years, by the novels written
within the period, and the publishers, as we have seen, were willing
to give him £6000, within the space of two years, for works of a less
serious sort, likely to be despatched at leisure hours, without at all
interfering with the main manufacture. But, alas! even this was not
all.... Before _The Fortunes of Nigel_ issued from the press, Scott
had exchanged instruments, and received his bookseller’s bills for no
less than “four works of fiction,” not one of them otherwise described
in the deeds of agreement. And within two years all this anticipation
had been wiped off by _Peveril of the Peak_, _Quentin Durward_, _St.
Ronan’s Well_, and _Red Gauntlet_; and the new castle was at that time
complete, and overflowing with all its splendour; but by that time the
end was also approaching!”
To return for a moment to Constable’s life as apart from the author of
_Waverley_; he had, as we have seen, entertained in early years strong
literary aspirations, and he repeatedly expressed a touching regret at
the nonfulfilment of his hopes. The only literary efforts that have
been distinctly traced to his pen consist of an edition of _Lamont’s
Diary_, in 1810; a compilation of the poetry contained in the Waverley
Novels, and the composition of a small volume which appeared in 1822,
under the title of _Memoirs of George Heriot_, jeweller to King James,
containing an account of the hospital founded by him at Edinburgh. In
1816 he lost his wife, and in 1818 he married Miss Charlotte Neale,
who survived him. In the early part of 1822 his health suffered so
severely that he was obliged to sojourn in the south for a while. In
1823, though professedly a Whig in politics, he was included by the
liberal policy of the Government in a list of new magistrates for the
city of Edinburgh; and in the same year he moved from the warehouse,
which he had occupied for twenty years in the High Street, to an
elegant mansion in the New Town, adjacent to the Register House, which
had become his own through his second wife.
Constable had at this time all the personal and outward appearance of
a successful man. He was stout and portly in body, and rather defiant
and imperious in his manner. Among the trade he was known as the “Czar
of Muscovy;” of the London potentates, John Murray had earned the
_sobriquet_ of the “Emperor of the West,” and Longman and his string
of partners as the “Divan.” Constable had christened John Ballantyne
the “Dey of Algiers,” but, as John complained, had subsequently deposed
him. The “Czar,” however, was too fond of these nicknames. Longman was
one day dining with him: “What fine swans you have on your pond there,”
quoth the Londoner. “Swans,” cried Constable, “they are only geese,
man! There are just five of them, if you please to observe, and their
names are Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme, and Brown.” This skit cost “the
Crafty” a good bargain.
About the year 1825, Constable devised a scheme greater than any he
had yet floated, and the adoption of which was eventually destined
to effect an entire revolution in the bookselling trade. After long
study of the annual schedule of tax-payers, he established his
premises clearly enough. There was undoubtedly an immense majority
of respectable British families who never thought of buying a book.
“Look,” he cried to Scott, “at the small class of people who pay the
powder tax, what a trifle it is to each, and yet what a fortune it
would bring to a bookseller! If I live for half-a-dozen years,” he
continued, “I shall make it as impossible that there should not be
a good library in every decent house in Great Britain, as that the
shepherd’s ingle nook should want the ‘saut poke.’”
“Troth,” said Scott, “if you live you are indeed likely to be
‘The great Napoleon of the realms of _print_.’”
“If you outlive me,” retorted Constable, “I bespeak that line for my
tombstone.... At three shillings or half-a-crown a volume every month,
which must and shall sell, not by thousands, and tens of thousands, but
by hundreds of thousands, and, ay, by millions! Twelve volumes in the
year, a halfpenny of profit on every copy of which will make me richer
than all the copyrights of all the quartos that ever were, or ever will
be, hot-pressed! Twelve volumes so good that millions must wish to
possess them, and so cheap that every butcher callant may have them if
he pleases to let me tax him sixpence a week!”
Scott saw the feasibility of the scheme, and it was decided to start at
once with a life of the “other Napoleon,” and a portion of one of the
“Waverley Novels.”
But, alas! before the plan could be carried into execution, the crisis
came. Lockhart received a letter from London stating that Constable’s
London banker had thrown up his book, and he galloped over at once to
Sir Walter’s, who smiled, re-lit his cigar, took the news coolly, and
declined to believe it, and for the moment he was right.
Lockhart’s account of the terrible failure in which Scott was involved
is this: Whenever Constable signed a bill for the purpose of raising
money among the bankers, for fear of accident, or any neglect in taking
the bill up before it fell due, he deposited a counter-bill, signed
by Ballantyne, on which, if need were, Constable might raise a sum of
money equivalent to that for which he had pledged his word; but these
counter-bills were allowed to lie in Constable’s desk till they assumed
the size of a “sheaf of stamps;” and when the hour of distress came,
Constable rushed with these bills to the money-changers, and thus the
Ballantynes who were liable to Constable for, say £25,000, were legally
liable for £50,000. Constable, in his turn, carried on the same game
with the London house of Hurst, Robinson, and Co., his agents--and upon
a much larger scale. They neglected their own business of bookselling
and entered heavily into speculation in hops, and in the panic of the
close of 1825, availed themselves of Constable’s credit, and he of the
Ballantynes, and the loss descended upon their principal partner, Scott.
This account has been contradicted by the representatives of John
Ballantyne, in two pamphlets, refuting Lockhart’s history of the
affair, and proving their side of the question by reference to the old
account books; Cadell, Constable’s quondam partner, and certainly not
biassed in his favour, throws his vote in with the Ballantynes. The
responsibilities they undertook were solely at the bidding of Scott,
and for his benefit; and in proof of this, they quote a clause from
the last deed of partnership, dated 1st April, 1822.
“The said Sir Walter Scott shall remain liable for such bills and debts
as there shall be due and current.”
When the persons most interested differ vitally, it is hard to decide;
however, the result of it all was, that when Hurst, Robinson, and Co.
stopped payment in London, Constable failed for upwards of a quarter
of a million, and the Ballantynes were also bankrupt to the extent
of £88,607 19_s._ 9_d._ It was in the middle of January, 1826, that
the actual crash came. Splendid and magnificent to the very last,
Constable rushed off to town as fast as post-horses could carry him.
He drove straight to Lockhart’s house, “and asked me,” says that
gentleman, “to accompany him as soon as he could get into his carriage
to the Bank of England, and support him (as a confidential friend of
the author of the ‘Waverley Novels’) in his application for a loan
of £100,000 to £200,000 on the security of the copyrights in his
possession”--a proposal that would have rather startled the old lady
of Threadneedle-street, who was, at that time of unparalleled panic,
according to Mr. Huskisson’s subsequent confession in the House, on the
very verge of suspending payment herself. When Lockhart refused--and,
of course, without direct instructions from Sir Walter, he could not
hazard such a step--Constable became livid with rage, stamped on the
ground, and swore that he could and would go alone.
How Scott bore the blow, and, what he dreaded infinitely more than the
mere loss of money--the exposure it entailed of his connection with the
printing house, we all know; how he declined to accept any compromise;
how he sold off his Abbotsford estate, which he had devoted all the
efforts of his genius to acquire, and which he loved so well; how he
slaved and toiled until the incredible sum was repaid--but, alas! at
the expense of a life more precious than all the lucre of creditors;
and how his last words on his death-bed were his best epitaph:--“My
dear, be a good man, be virtuous, be religious--be a good man! Nothing
else will give you any comfort when you come to lie here.”
Our matter, however, is with Constable. He saw his fortunes--the strong
up-buildings of a gloriously successful lifetime--dashed to the ground
at one blow. With a young family growing up around him, sick in body
and weary in soul, he too had to begin life afresh. All his “sunshine”
friends fell off, Scott was alienated, and his stock, which he had been
wont to contemplate as a mine of wealth, was sequestered, and sold
for a tithe of its value.[13] Cadell, his late partner, purchased the
copyrights of the “Waverley Novels” for £8,500, and, securing Scott’s
countenance, set up as a fortunate rival.
Constable, however, went manfully to work at his proposed Miscellany.
Captain Basil Hall, in kindly consideration, made him a present of his
_Voyages_, and this was brought out in 1827, for the small sum of one
shilling, and proved fairly successful. This same year, by-the-by,
was commenced the _Library of Useful Knowledge_, by the Society for
the Diffusion of Useful Knowledge, who, following Constable, had the
“honour of leading the way in that fearful inroad upon dearness of
the good old times of publishing, which first developed itself in the
wicked birth of what the literary exclusives called the _Sixpenny
Sciences_.”
Constable’s prospects were brightening; he had now gathered round him
all the younger literary men of the day, when, in the midst of his
struggles, his old disease of dropsy again attacked him, and he died on
the 21st July, 1827.
His widow and family were left in sorry circumstances, but his son
Thomas eventually attained the position of an eminent and well-known
printer in Edinburgh. The Ballantynes, with whom he had been so
intimately connected, disproved many of Lockhart’s assertions, by
showing that, by dint of hard work and good business habits, they were
capable of success, unaided by the help of Sir Walter Scott.
Constable, if not the most successful, was certainly the most eminent
of the Scotch publishers. It is pleasant where the two lives have
been so curiously blended to be able to quote Scott’s estimate of his
character:--
“His vigorous intellect and vigorous ideas have not only rendered
his native country the merit of her own literature, but established
there a court of letters which commanded respect even from those most
inclined to dissent from many of its canons. The effect of these
changes operated, in a great measure, by the strong sense and sagacious
calculation of an individual who knew how to avail himself, to an
unhoped-for extent, of the various kinds of talents which his country
produced, will probably appear much clearer to the generation which
shall follow the present.”
The remaining portion of this chapter will in itself bear ample
testimony to the truth of this prediction; for we shall have to touch
upon two distinct lives, and two long and very successful lives, to
trace the progress of the chief works which passed out of Constable’s
hands so shortly before his death.
Robert Cadell had been admitted a partner in the house upon his
marriage with Constable’s daughter, but she died childless long before
the failure, and Cadell was soon married again to a Miss Mylne. Thus
the family ties were severed, and, when the crash came, Cadell felt no
hesitation in entering the field as a rival to his late partner.
The stock of the Waverley Novels was sold off, far below the market
value, and the London publishers, judging from this that the intrinsic
worth of the copyright had irretrievably declined, allowed Cadell, as
we have seen, in conjunction with Scott, to become the purchaser at the
low price of £8500. The success of the republication was astounding,
and showed what real life and vivacity was still left in the copyright.
By this scheme the whole of the novels were reprinted in five-shilling
volumes with excellent illustrations, giving for ten shillings in two
volumes what had been originally published in three at a guinea and a
half.
After Scott’s death the debt still amounted to £54,000; his life was
insured for £22,000, there was £2000 in hand, and now Cadell most
handsomely advanced £30,000 in order that the remaining debt might be
liquidated, taking as his only security the right to the profit that
might accrue from the copyright property. The family, dreading that
the term of copyright might expire before the sum could be returned,
endeavoured to obtain a special additional term, and on more than one
occasion Serjeant Talfourd introduced a bill into the House of Commons
to this effect, but without success. Fortunately, however, the event
showed that Cadell was commercially fully justified in his generosity,
for before his death not only had he been reimbursed his £30,000, but a
handsome profit had been earned “for the benefit of all whom it might
concern.”
According to Mr. James Mylne, one of Cadell’s executors, the following
is the total sale of Scott’s works from the time they came into
Cadell’s hands until his death:--
_Circulation._