Byron and the Scottish Spenserians.
Radcliffe, David Hill
Poems in Series
"I SING THE SOFA," BEGINS THE TASK. COWPER WAS ASSIGNED
THIS TOPIC by a lady fond of blank verse: "He obeyed; and having
much leisure, connected another subject with it; and pursuing the train
of thought, to which his situation and turn of mind led him, brought
forth at length, instead of the trifle which he at first intended, a
serious affair--a volume" (2:113). (1) Childe Harold, which
likewise "makes no pretension to regularity," also begins its
meandering course in burlesque (2: 4). (2) These opening frames,
Miltonic and Spenserian, set the pitch for the digressive songs to
follow. Their peculiar resonance may fail faint on ears more familiar
with Milton and Spenser than with minor poetry. Cowper evokes an obscure
series of burlesque odes imitating John Philips' The Splendid
Shilling, Byron a series of poems on progress developed out of James
Thornson's Castle of Indolence. A survey of the Thomson series will
elucidate Byron's skills as a reader and emulator as he used
insights gleaned from Thomson's Scottish imitators to vault to
attention by challenging national confidence in the wake of the
Peninsular War. The irregularity of Childe Harold was not without a
plan.
Imitations seldom come as singles; they appear in sixes, dozens,
scores, or in the case of Milton's "Il Penseroso" and
Gray's Elegy, hundreds. Most were ephemeral things, though some
became objects of imitation in their own fight. When poets responded to
later poems in a series the result would be a sequence of poems
developing a common topic or set of issues. Examples include a series of
imitations of Collins' "Ode on the Passions" concerned
with the fine arts, and a series imitating Gray's Elegy concerned
with criminals and the law. When Cowper selected "the sofa" as
a topic he contributed to a series of burlesque odes with titles like
"The Goose Quill" (1737), "The Razor" (1743),
"The Jordan" (1750), "The Blanket" (1757),
"Meditations on a Sheet of Writing Paper" (1759), "The
Easy Chair" (1760), "A Poem on a Pin" (1762), "On a
Pipe of Tobacco" (1762), "The Country Barber's Shop"
(1762), "The Wedding Ring" (1763), The Elbow-Chair: a Rhapsody (1765), "The Old Shoe" (1770), "The Needle" (1773),
"Tea: a Poem" (1773), and "The Thread-Bare Coat"
(1777). (3) There was a parallel series of Philips poems on the subject
of liquor, and another on starving poets. The series on common domestic
objects was very familiar to readers of The Task in 1785, though it
would have been less so a generation later, after Cowper's
celebrated poem had eclipsed its rivals and changed the way poets wrote
about domestic themes in blank verse.
The situation is analogous with Byron and The Castle of Indolence:
Childe Harold overshadowed more ephemeral Thomson imitations and gave a
new turn to descriptive verse in Spenserian stanzas. Different series
behaved in different ways; there was an inverse relation between the
length of the poems and the size of the series, for instance. Full-dress
Spenserian burlesques were laborious to compose and are therefore
scarcer than odes and elegies. The topic under discussion likewise seems
to have had an effect on the way a series would develop: imitations of
Gray's Elegy evoked memory by ringing changes on a familiar dirge;
the busy Philips imitations, making much of little, took small, trivial
objects as subjects for small, trivial poems. The Thomson series, with
its theme of indolence, proceeded fitfully, as if retarded by
indecision. While Thomson was universally popular, the number of
extended imitations of The Castle of Indolence was small and dominated
by Scots concerned about the effects of progress and "luxury"
on traditional morality. Not the least clever thing about Childe Harold
is the way in which Byron makes programmatic use of the (non)progress of
the series, turning a liability into an asset: he recapitulates the
series' doubts about progress in his opening burlesque and
amplifies them throughout Childe Harold. Just as the Miltonic sofa
passage that opens The Task would evoke memories of poems concerned with
domestic trivia, so the Spenserian "house of pleasure" passage
that begins Childe Harold called to mind the moral allegories pursued in
eighteenth-century progress poems.
In particular, it would have reminded contemporary readers of three
popular Spenserian poems treating the theme of progress and
luxury--Thomson's The Castle of Indolence (1748), Mickle's The
Concubine (1767), and Beattie's The Minstrel (1771, 1774). (4)
These were the cardinal poems in the Thomson series, but there were
other imitations of Spenser by Scottish poets that Byron and his readers
might have known: John Tait's The Land of Liberty, an Allegorical
Poem (1775), James Fordyce's "The Physiognomist: a Descriptive
Poem" (1786), Francis Garden's "The Fairy Queen: A
Tale" (1791), William Gillespie's The Progress of Refinement,
an Allegorical Poem (1805), and William Cameron's "The
Minstrel continued on the original Plan of Dr. Beattie" (1813). (5)
Though this is a small series it consists of substantial works. While
are all Scottish poems, none of its members are explicitly concerned
with Scotland. They are Scottish enough for all that: the topics of
indolence and industry, culture and civilization, were of particular
interest to Scots even before Samuel Johnson's A Journey to the
Western Islands of Scotland (1775) made the progress of society in the
northern kingdom a matter of general debate. A nation that could produce
the Works of Ossian (1765) and The Wealth of Nations (1776) was plainly
of two minds with respect to progress. (6) The fact that the common
topic was not peculiarly Scottish is itself pertinent to the series
since "civilization" was a transnational process propelled by
exchange with outsiders. (7)
Emulation among the Scottish Literati
Before turning to the poems it would be useful to consider why
Byron would be interested in Scottish burlesque poetry in the first
place. One motive was emulation. English Bards and Scotch Reviewers
makes a thorough survey of contemporary poets; like Pope's Dunciad
and Gifford's Baviad (1791) Byron's satire deprecates modern
poets by comparison to classical models, but it also displays a shrewd,
market-oriented sense of the literary scene at a particular moment.
Cumberland and Hayley are well past their prime, Southey and the Lake
School are fading, and so forth. Walter Scott was the rising star,
having published The Lay of the Last Minstrel (1805) and Marmion (1808);
his only serious rival was Thomas Campbell, whose Pleasures of Hope
(1799) was perhaps the most highly-regarded poem of the day. If Byron
was to assume precedence among living poets and win plaudits in
Edinburgh, these Scottish writers were the persons he needed to contend
with. His rivals were themselves emulators: Campbell would respond to
Scott's romances with Gertrude of Wyoming (1809), published shortly
before Byron's departure for the East. Like The Lay of the Last
Minstrel and Marmion, Gertrude concerns a border skirmish, though the
poem is set in America and written in a highly lacquered style that
Scott could never hope to compete with. Scott would respond to Gertrude
in The Vision of Don Roderick (1811) a poem on colonial themes set in a
foreign country and composed in the Spenserian stanza used by Campbell,
though in the Gothic manner that was Scott's trademark.
The bard of the Lay and the bard of Hope were not merely personal
rivals, they were Tory and Whig poets who occupied ground bitterly
contested in Scotland since the seventeenth century. Scott's
political vision was not narrowly nationalistic, though rooted in
loyalty to persons and places in ways that old Drummond of Hawthornden
might have appreciated. Campbell's political vision, while
fervently patriotic, was liberal, forward-looking, and pan-European.
While their political commitments are never doubtful, both were capable
of looking at matters from two sides, Campbell underscoring the tragic
consequences of civilization in Gertrude, Scott championing the progress
of liberty in Roderick. If Byron, whose commitments were more perplexed,
wished to insinuate himself into a poetical conversation between these
two Scots, he could hardly have done better than to invent the Childe, a
wandering cosmopolite obsessed with locality and haunted by the past.
Indeed, Childe Harold seems to have been crafted with emulation in mind:
as a "romaut," it engages Scott in narrative; as a topographic
poem, it engages Campbell in description. Francis Jeffrey, preferring
Campbell to Scott, compared Gertrude favorably to Thomson: "This is
of the pitch of the Castle of Indolence, and the finer parts of
Spencer" (1). (8) That surely, was an opening: having successfully
emulated Pope in his last outing, in his next he might emulate
Britain's other major eighteenth-century poet. (9) Given the
nationality of his two rivals, it would make sense for Byron also to
draw upon the resources of Scottish poetry.
Civilization and its Discontents: Thomson, Mickle, and Beattie
The opening stanzas of Childe Harold evoke Thomson's Castle of
Indolence in matter and manner, implicitly comparing Newstead Abbey to
the Wizard's Castle:
Monastic dome! condemn'd to uses vile!
Where Superstition once had made her den
Now Paphian girls were known to sing and smile.
(2: 10)
Poems in a series evoke their predecessors through formal markers
(like the distinctive Spenserian stanza) and allusions to a common
theme, here the Indolence that incongruously links ancient monks to
modern revelers. (10) Thomson himself was looking back to predecessors,
and not only Spenser. His Wizard recalls the old Stuart ideology of
peace abroad and prosperity at home as presented in Drummond's
Spenserian river-poem, Forth Feasting (1617) where Britain's
fertility king rains down luxury on his loyal subjects:
Thy Thulys Amber, with the Ocean Pearles;
The Tritons, Heards-men of the glassie Field,
Shall give Thee what farre-distant Shores can yeeld,
The Serean Fleeces, Erythrean Gemmes,
Vaste Platas Silver, Gold of Peru Streames,
Antarticke Parrots, Aethiopian Plumes,
Sabaean Odours, Myrrhe, and sweet Perfumes.
(sig. B4) (11))
In The Castle of Indolence the Wizard's display of riches
(somewhat diminished in dignity) alludes to Sir Robert Walpole's
encouragement of court Whigs to exchange liberty for luxury. The two
cantos evoke long-standing Scottish attitudes, the first anticipating
Scott's backwards-looking Lay (where the minstrel finds an
aristocratic patron) and the second Campbell's forward-looking Hope
(celebrating the triumphal march of Freedom). While Whigs like Thomson
opposed the legitimate prosperity derived from Industry to the poisoned
fruit derived from courtly Indolence, they were not opposed to making
off with Egyptian gold: courtly Spenser's picturesque if obsolete
style could be safely appropriated through burlesque. There was even a
kind of propriety to this; if Walpole's policies reminded Thomson
of Tudor and Stuart absolutism, the policies of Lord Liverpool put Byron
in mind of those of Walpole. Still, putting new wine into old bottles
could lead to unintended consequences: readers have been known to prefer
the medium to the morality.
Spenserian burlesque, which enjoyed its heyday in the 1750s and
1760s, was by 1812 an outmoded fashion and an unlikely choice for an
ambitious poem. But it serves a strategic purpose in Childe Harold,
enabling Byron to bring eighteenth-century satire to bear on
nineteenth-century romanticism in a perplexing, Janus-faced way. The
opening recursion to Thomson reverberates throughout a poem in which
indolence and progress are major themes. Like Harold, Thomson's
Knight of Arts and Industry is an emigrant: "Accomplish'd thus
he from the Woods issu'd, / Full of great Aims, and bent on bold
Emprize" (Thomson 203). To evoke this similarity is to underscore
the difference: Thomson's Knight takes Britain as his destination,
while Byron's knight takes Britain as a point of departure. As his
name implies, Thomson's Knight is a maker and a doer while
Byron's Childe wanders as a pilgrim, a spectator only.
Thomson's allegory follows the westward march of progress
celebrated by eighteenth-century poets; Byron's journey takes the
opposite course: "Without a sigh he left, to cross the brine, / And
traverse Paynim shores, and pass Earth's central line" (Childe
2:11). Fleeing from over-refined pleasures at home, Harold chronicles
the demolition of European civilization in the Peninsular War before
proceeding on to observe the triumph of barbarism in the very cradle of
civilization. If Byron's pilgrim sometimes makes the trappings of
superstition and absolutism seem atavistically attractive, he remains,
for the most part, the detached, refined, disinterested spectator of
eighteenth-century poetry. Byron's "romaut" is congruent
neither with Thomson's Augustan sensibilities nor with Scott or
Campbell's sentimental romanticism. Its meanderings are, however,
consistent with the vacillations seen in several poems in the Thomson
series and congruent too with the divagations taken by the series as
such.
That properly begins with the two Spenser imitations by William
Julius Mickle and James Beattie. Mickle's journey through life
rather resembles that of Smollett's Lishmahago: the son of a
Langholm clergyman, he got his start managing an Edinburgh brewery;
suffering bankruptcy, he migrated to London to pursue literature but
enjoyed none of Thomson's success in attracting patrons. Rejecting
a potential career in the East India Company he worked as corrector to
the Oxford University Press while completing his magnum opus, a
translation of Camoen's mercantile epic, the The Lusiad, or, The
Discovery of India (1776). Still unrewarded, Mickle found patronage as a
naval secretary; after living in Portugal and amassing a tidy fortune in
prize-money, in 1782 he married well and retired to Wheatley in
Oxfordshire. Mickle's transformation from Scottish brewer to
English squire was replete with reversals of fortune and complex
allegiances. He was a Whig and a cosmopolitan Scot but also a staunch
defender of orthodox Christianity who believed he was being persecuted
by David Hume and Adam Smith; he was a learned and skillful poet whose
posthumous literary reputation was founded on the ballad compositions he
would never deign to acknowledge. "Cumnor Hall" was used by
Scott as the basis for Kennilworth. (12)
Mickle's diverse inclinations towards commerce, Christianity,
imperialism, literature, and country life all figure in The Concubine
(1767), a poem thrice reprinted (1769, 1771, 1777, the third time as Sir
Martyn) before appearing in his collected poems (1794, 1806) and some
prominent anthologies (1795, 1798, 1808, 1810). Byron and many of his
readers would have been familiar with it. The poem likely owed its
success to Mickle's elegant diction and powers of description, for
The Concubine is not notable for coherence; Henry Francis Cary later
described it as "incongruous and disjointed as the dream of a sick
man" (563). (13) It is part Spenserian allegory, part estate poem,
and part domestic romance, the whole loosely held together by the main
character, a literary peer who like Harold "gives some connexion to
the piece" (Childe 2: 5). It opens as a sober-paced Spenser
burlesque, a wizard relating the story to the poet in the form of a
vision. Mickle defended his design in the second edition: "Some
perhaps, misled by the title, have been surprised to find so much
attention bestowed on the Knight, and so little on the Concubine: but
let it be observed, that the Knight is the proper subject, as the
delineation of the character of a Man of Birth, who with every other
advantage of natural abilities and amiable disposition, is at once lost
to the Public and himself, is evidently proposed. Nor could the Author
suspect he had ever lost sight of his cue, through all the excursions he
has made; excursions, into which he was led rather from a conviction
that they tended to the completion of the character, than from any
inattention to the unity of his story" (5). (14) The subsequent
change of title indicates readers' continued perplexity about the
subject of the poem.
Its relationship to the Castle of Indolence is perhaps obvious
enough: In the first canto Sir Martyn is brought to ruin by the wily
Kathrin, a commoner who uses an unintended pregnancy to beguile him into
marriage. The seductress is distant kin to Thomson's Wizard, though
she is a figure for Luxury rather than Indolence. That quality properly
belongs to the baron, who in the second canto wanders dreamily about his
failing estate, haunted by guilt and remorse. In a magic glass, Shame
shows him the image of a man whose private vices have not redounded to
the public good:
Illustrious Cares! befitting Patriot Peer!
Italian Sing-song and the Eunuchs squall;
Such Arts as soothd the base unmanly Ear
Of Greece and Persia bending to their Fall;
When Freedome bled unwept, and scornd was Glows Call.
(47)
Though enervated by luxury, Sir Martyn manages occasional bursts of
anger at his condition:
Are these, he murmurs, these my Friends! the best
That croud my Hall! the Sonnes of madning Noise,
Whose warmest Friendship with the Revel dies.
(59)
Eventually he fails into the clutches of Dissipation and, confined
to the Cave of Discontent, devotes the remainder of his miserable days
to melancholia and despair. Like those falling prey to Thomson's
Wizard, Sir Martyn is, in truth, victimized by "A lazie Fiend, SELF
IMPOSITION hight" (68). The Concubine reverses the sequence of
Thomson's cantos: Mickle's first chronicles the rise of the
industrious Kathrin, his second the confinement and demise of her
indolent lover. In both cantos the dreary narrative and disjointed
episodes are relieved by extended, naturalistic landscape
description--as when the peer imagines a sea-girt world beyond the
confines of his domestic Hell:
The Flockes now whiten, now the Ocean bay
Beneath the Radiance glistens clear and pale,
And white from farre appeares the frequent Sail
By Traffick spread. Moord where the Land divides,
The British Red-Cross waving in the Gale,
Hulky and black, a gallant Warre Ship rides,
And over the greene Wave with lordlie Port presides.
(52)
If the attack on luxury in The Concubine echoes the political
rhetoric of Thomson and the country Whigs, its unhappy conclusion may
reflect on events since the publication of The Castle of Indolence: the
Patriots had proved almost as corrupt as the faction they overthrew. The
narrative likely has something to do with George Lyttelton,
Thomson's former associate and Mickle's sometimes-patron,
latterly retired to his estate at Hagley Park. In his review John
Langhorne hints at some such thing: "From some circumstances in
this poem, one might be led to think that the Author had a real Sir
Martyn in his eye" (353). (15) Lyttelton's biographer, Rose
Mary Davis, reports that this pious and poetical peer had been wrongly
accused of fathering a child by his housekeeper, and his relations with
his second wife were not happy (251-52). (16) But the allegory is
stubbornly difficult: we are led to admire the mercantile career pursued
by the Knight's ocean-going brother but to condemn the mercantile
behavior of the concubine who attempts to modernize an indolent estate
that is at once an emblem of political authority and a bar to the
exercise of political virtue. Much as the Whig party was foundering on
the competing interests of land and liberty, Mickle's story works
at cross purposes: is Sir Martyn's failure the product of
Kathrin's low-bred industry or his own aristocratic indolence?
There appears to be no right answer: instead of a choice between
pleasure and virtue, this modern Hercules confronts equivalent paths to
destruction. As master of Newstead and a liberal member of Parliament,
Byron might well appreciate the Hobson's choice posed by
Mickle's cantos.
The Minstrel; or, the Progress of Genius (1771, 1774) was a
significant progress-poem for two generations of romantic poets; it was
imitated scores of times, becoming, in effect, the place-holder for
Wordsworth's yet-unpublished autobiographical poem. (17) Roger
Robinson has established that Beattie began composition about 1766 and
that The Minstrel originated as a burlesque before taking a more
sentimental turn; it was written piecemeal and without a concerted
design (230-31). (18) Beattie follows Thomson's example of
including a self-portrait, or rather two, since the gregarious youth and
the misanthropic hermit are both "Beattie." The poem, however,
is supposed to be set in the middle ages. As had been the case with The
Castle of Indolence readers preferred the first "Indolence"
canto presenting Edwin in his untutored state:
And yet poor Edwin was no vulgar boy;
Deep thought oft seem'd to fix his infant eye.
Dainties he heeded not, nor gaude, nor toy,
Save one short pipe of rudest minstrelsy.
Silent when glad; affectionate, though shy;
And now his look was most demurely sad,
And now he laugh'd aloud yet none knew why.
The neighbours stared and sigh'd, yet bless'd the lad:
Some deem'd him wondrous wise, and some believed him mad.
(10)
Surely Byron saw a reflection of himself in this talented,
impoverished, and melancholy child of Aberdeen. Biography, a decidedly
secondary matter in Thomson, becomes a primary subject in The Concubine
and The Minstrel, as it would be in Childe Harold.
If Thomson had failed to give due weight to the legitimate claims
of imagination and Mickle had muddled the issue, in Beattie's
quasi-autobiographical poem the competing moral claims of indolent fancy
and industrious refinement are equally if inconsistently valued. The
path to progress, we learn in the second canto, is choked with thorns:
"'Perish the lore that deadens young desire' / Is the
soft tenor of my song no more" (3). Initially reluctant, Edwin
studies the classic poets under the Hermit's tutelage and learns to
correct his woodnotes wild: "What cannot Art and Industry perform,
/ When Science plans the progress of their toil!" (27). The
narrative then breaks off, a rumored third canto left unwritten. Beattie
wrote to Elizabeth Montagu: "I am glad that you are pleased with
the additional stanzas of the second canto of the Minstrel; but I fear
you are too indulgent. How it will be relished by the public, I cannot
even guess. I know all its faults; but I cannot remedy them, for they
are faults in the first concoction; they result from the imperfection of
the plan." (19) Beattie does not specify what these
"faults" are, but one may suppose that they stem from an
inability or unwillingness to identify the progress of native genius
with the progress of acquired knowledge. Then too, it is difficult to
see how Edwin's classical education would accord with his status as
a medieval minstrel. Historical incongruity of matter and manner was the
stock-in-trade of Spenserian burlesque but it would not do for a
sentimental tale, nor does the incipient medievalism in the first canto
sit well with Beattie's strictures on poetical refinement in the
second.
The very inconsistencies that led Beattie to abandon his narrative
ensured that others would take up his poem, some taking their cue from
the second canto, but most from the first. The descriptions of village
life and lore in The Minstrel recast Thomson's opposition between
idleness and industry as an opposition between native tradition and
cosmopolitan refinement or (to use the nineteenth-century formulation)
culture and civilization. The importance of this is witnessed by the
number, quality, and diversity of the poems pursuing the themes of
progress and genius, among them Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel,
Campbell's Gertrude of Wyoming, and Byron's Childe Harold. A
burgeoning Minstrel series--Spenserian poems concerned with the
contention between material progress and spiritual culture (variously
conceived as the genius of the poet, the nation, the age) began to take
shape in the 1790s. But our immediate concern is with Spenserian
burlesque and the Scottish imitations of The Castle of Indolence. None
of these acquired classic status (that is, becoming objects of imitation
in their own right), nor is it likely that Byron would have known all of
them. But they do indicate something of how Thomson was being read and
Spenser imitated during the run-up to Childe Harold. The point is not to
argue specific influence, but to indicate the range of options available
to the imitators and emulators who are the real source of agency in a
series of poems.
Later Imitations: Tait, Fordyce, Gardiner, Gillespie, Cameron
James Tait's The Land of Liberty (1775) is a more conventional
Spenser burlesque than the poems by Mickle and Beattie. Little is
recorded of the poet (1748-1817) other than that he was Writer to the
Signet (1781) and judge of the police court in Edinburgh (1805). (20)
His resoundingly Whiggish poem was likely published with an eye towards
attracting patronage in Edinburgh; the advertisement informs us that it
had been composed five years earlier, which is to say, after the
publication of The Concubine but before The Minstrel. Tait's hero,
Albernad, is prince of an eastern land who is overthrown and forced upon
his travels. Led by a guardian angel he visits the islands of Monarchy,
Aristocracy, and Democracy, all of which are in disarray. In the second
canto the prince discovers the Land of Liberty (Britain) which is, by
contrast, a well-ordered place. Nonetheless, this happy island is
threatened by Dissention, Discord, and Faction (the latter makes a
speech modeled on that of Thomson's Wizard). Justice and Concord
intervene, and all is eventually set to rights. Tait's theme is the
rule of law. While there is no historical specificity, his first canto
seems intended as a synoptic view of ancient history, and in the second
Concord may represent the benefits of a mixed modern constitution. If
Albernad's journey suggests a conventional progress of liberty,
Tait's allegory is remarkably static. In striking contrast to the
earlier poems there is little pathos, no nostalgia, and little evocative
description. Tait does convey a lively sense of the fragility of
civilization (Faction recalls the recent Jacobite eruption); that, along
with the political-topographical tour in the first canto, moves the
series in the direction of Childe Harold.
James Fordyce's "The Physiognomist: a Descriptive Poem,
in imitation of Spenser" (1786) breaks no new ground. Like Beattie
and Byron, Fordyce was an Aberdeen poet; after graduating from Marischal
College in 1753 he took orders and emigrated to London where he became a
popular Presbyterian lecturer and, like Mickle and Beattie, a prominent
figure in the movement to promote Christian orthodoxy. Scottish
rectitude had southern admirers: Mickle had been offered a living in the
Church of England by Bishop Lowth, and Beattie by Bishop Porteus. This
was another component of the Thomson series that Byron would engage.
Fordyce made his literary reputation with the oft-reprinted Sermons to
Young Women (1766); his poetry was written later in life after a rift in
his congregation and retirement to Hampshire. (21) "The
Physiognomist" seems to have been inspired by the "mirror of
vanity" episode in Thomson's first canto; its frame narrative
may have been suggested by Mickle. The eponymous wizard teaches the poet
to recognize how the ruling passions differ in various walks of life by
means of a series of twenty-two Theophrastan characters. It is amusing
to see Scottish moral-sense philosophy presented in the guise of a
medieval pageant:
And now an airy Coxcomb trips alone,
With gogle-Eyne he gazeth all about,
Gaping and wond'ring at the female throng.
If he meet harlot gay, O such a rout!
If modest ladies frown, he perks his snout;
Now turns, his own dear person to admire;
Now stands on tip-toe, all those prudes to flout;
Assur'd each finer wench's heart to fire
With love and joy, and fondest passion to inspire.
(196)
Like The Concubine, "The Physiognomist" is the work of a
pious expatriate worried about how luxury and corruption were preying
upon a commercial nation.
"The Fairy Queen, a Tale" operates in a very different
moral register. It is the work of another poet with Aberdeen
connections, Francis Garden, Lord Gardenstone (1721-1793), who had been
James Beattie's first patron. One imagines that Gardenstone's
poems, belatedly published in 1793, would have been congenial to
Byron's taste: he was an Augustan satirist who defended Pope
against the strictures in Joseph Warton's Essay on the Writings and
Genius of Pope (1756). He was also an enlightened, worldly reformer in
bad odor with the Kirk--such at least is the explanation offered by his
anonymous biographer for the tepid reception of his poems (5: 92). (22)
Gardenstone's undated fabliau, written in couplets rather than
stanzas, relates the history of Sir Lonval, a Welsh knight whose
services to Arthur's court have gone unrewarded. Departing in
disgust, he soon encounters a fair lady of easy virtue:
With accents sweeter than the Syren's song
She wonder'd he delay'd his route so long ...
Into a spacious hall she Lonval led,
Luxurious plenty on the board was spread.
She warm'd his courage with a bowl of wine,
He sought no second call to rest and dine.
His brain with such oppressive pleasure swims;
The fairy's graceful height, her finely moulded limbs,
Each look, each motion, sets his soul on fire,
And every vein is raging with desire.
(186)
After due dalliance the knight is sent back to court with a purse,
a magic ring, and an admonition to dread "the fairy much, the
female more." But alas, the treacherous gifts prove inefficacious when Sir Lonval finds himself at cross-purposes with Arthur's
lecherous queen. "The Fairy Queen" inverts Thomson's
moral, for loyalty to fairy-luxury and not the practice of industry or
prudence leads the hero to his final reward. Possibly this story of a
disregarded Welsh knight was written in response to the Scotophobia
aroused by northern place-seekers in the 1760s and 1770s.
The longest and most ambitious imitation of The Castle of Indolence
was The Progress of Refinement, an Allegorical Poem (1805) by William
Gillespie, a 1792 graduate of Edinburgh University, and soon-to-be
minister of Kells (Rogers 2: 137). Its four-canto allegory, replete with
Scottish-school history, economics, and ethnography, strives to bring
Thomson up to date. The sprawling design was summarized in the Scots
Magazine (to which Gillespie was a contributor):
The poet begins with the savage state of the first Britons, when
they roamed the woods without shelter, covering, or any certain
means of subsistence. In pity of this forlorn condition of her
children, Britannia sends down among them Science and Art, both in
their infancy, who gradually lead them on to the pastoral state, of
which Mr. Gillespie, according to poetical usage, gives a
captivating description, far more so, we suspect, than is warranted
by any authentic records in the history of Britain. However, art
and science having grown up, an intimacy is formed between them, of
which commerce is the fruit. Here the author seems disposed for
some time to view with complacency, and gives a description of the
industry and arts to which she gives birth, the towns she raises,
and the various improvements she makes on society; till unluckily
crossing over to America, and taking a walk along the shores of
Peru, she meets with Wealth, and being seized with a violent
passion, prevails on him to accompany her to Britain. We are far
from thinking our author happy in these personifications. We know
no two persons on whom the imagination can less delight to rest, or
who are less qualified for appearing in a poetical dress. However,
their union gives birth to Luxury, of whom our author is a declared
enemy. The greater part of two cantos is occupied in detailing the
various evils which arise from her influence. At length these arise
to such a height, that Britannia thinks a second interference
necessary, and commissions her attendant nymphs to revive Britain
from this state of degeneracy. The nymphs obey, and perform their
commission successfully. Luxury is banished, with her attendants
Avarice and Care; and Britain is restored to her ancient greatness.
(534-35) (23)
Progress triumphs in the end. James Manning, writing in the Monthly
Review, describes the poem as an imitation of Beattie: "He writes
with a mind warmed by the beauties of The Minstrel, and has transfused
into his own numbers no inconsiderable portion of the melody of that
elegant fragment" (209). (24) One might also trace Gillespie to
Mickle and Tait: with The Progress of Refinement the Thomson series
acquires a degree of awareness of itself as a series. The poet plainly
strives to give a fanciful turn to the hard lessons of political
economy--to little avail, it seems, for the Scots Magazine reviewer
takes issue with the "unpoetical" personifications of Luxury
and Wealth. This objection implies a widening gap between the poetry of
material civilization and the poetry of imaginative culture, between
Thomson's burlesque satire and Scott or Campbell's sentiment.
The ideological lines are sharply drawn in William Cameron's
posthumously published "The Minstrel continued on the original Plan
of Dr. Beattie" likely written shortly after Beattie's death
in 1803 but published only in 1813. Cameron, who had been Beattie's
pupil at Aberdeen, completes the narrative along the lines suggested in
Gray's letter to Beattie of 2 July 1770 (Gray 383, Walker 295).
(25) Continuing the biographical thread, Cameron interprets the
"great and singular service to his country" Gray had proposed
as Beattie's own resistance to Hume and infidelity. The challenge
to Christian orthodoxy is personated in a speech Cameron cleverly models
on the Wizard's address in the Castle of Indolence:
To Reason only, your devotion pay,
From her decision, mark the good from ill.
No more shall phantoms, then, your heart dismay,
Of future fate, with fearful presage, fill;
But, free t' obey your own almighty will,
Thus wisely regulated, then, with scorn
Of rule superior proud ye shall fulfil
The end of men, all great and equal born,
Their dignity maintain, their nature bright adorn.
(50)
Bowing to "Mammon's filthy fane" (53) the nation has
become corrupt, lawless, and violent. Appalled at this turn of events, a
chastened Edwin ascends "the Minstrel's seat" to defend
traditional piety and imaginative culture: "With harp in hand,
aback his robe he threw, / The strings attuned to harmony
complete." At this climactic moment he sings "The deeds
resounding of our Fathers, fam'd / For patriot spirit" (73)
and succeeds in turning back an army of invading--Danes. The Rev.
Cameron, we may safely infer, stood at the opposite pole of the
political spectrum from the Rev. Gillespie. (26)
In this motley assortment of scarce-remembered Scottish poems one
hears burlesque tones that readers of the opening stanzas of Childe
Harold would be expected to recognize. But there is more: a poetical
peer lacerated by melancholy, the pilgrimage device, aristocratic airs
and autobiographical analogies, misogyny and misanthropy, atavism and
ethnography. There is an extended conversation about the uncertain
status of progress and civilization in which the voices of Scottish
Whigs and Scottish Tories are clearly discernable. If it was
Byron's original purpose in Childe Harold to emulate Scott and
Campbell, he would have found in the Scottish Spenserians a wealth of
material ready to be worked up into a poem on their common theme of
civilization and its discontents. He had only to add another title to a
well-established series. But if he were to be a successful emulator he
had to discover a path not taken by Thomson's imitators and apply
it to the concerns of the hour, a time in which the likes of Gillespie
and Cameron were dropping any pretence of ambivalence, and Campbell and
Scott, albeit in more nuanced ways, were likewise appealing to readers
along the old ideological lines. Looking at matters retrospectively, we
can see that it was a very good time to address the public in a major
Spenserian poem on the subject of progress and the uncertain fate of
Europe.
Byron's Reading of the Scottish Spenserians
As irregular as it otherwise is, Childe Harold is consistent in its
remorseless attack on the idea of progress epitomized by Thomson's
Knight of Industry. Byron reads the Thomson series against the grain,
turning his predecessors' perceived limitations to his own
advantage. Where others regarded Beattie's unwillingness to
complete his narrative as a fault, Byron grasped the possibility of a
"progress of Indolence" continued as an open-ended chronicle
of his life and times. Where other imitators had tried to resolve the
dilemma posed by The Minstrel by subordinating civilization to culture,
or culture to civilization, Byron made the unresolved conflict the basis
for much of his poem. The 1812 preface quotes a recently-published
letter by Beattie that reinforces his own reading of the poem: "Not
long ago I began a poem in the style and stanza of Spenser [writes
Beattie], in which I propose to give full scope to my inclination, and
be either droll or pathetic, descriptive or sentimental, tender or
satirical, as the humour strikes me" (Childe 2: 4). Childe Harold
extends this willful variety from style to substance, embracing the
contradictions Beattie had fallen into by accident. Byron is, by turns,
pious, agnostic, and skeptical; he lashes out at monarchy and weeps over
Princess Charlotte; he is liberated from family ties yet deeply
concerned about ancestors and progeny. The "imperfection of the
plan" Beattie came to lament becomes a programmatic element in
Byron's satire on British triumphalism. The nation was not the
coherent thing that Whigs--or Tories--imagined.
Byron's urbane distaste for nationality helps to explain his
high regard for The Minstrel; like Byron, Beattie was attracted to
romantic atavism and yet was unwilling to let go of a humanist's
trans-national standards. Much as The Minstrel had led readers to expect
something in the manner of Percy's Reliques, so Byron's
"romaut" led readers to expect a tale of chivalry. But neither
poet cared much for historicism and Byron in particular had no use for
the chauvinism and chivalry on display in works like the laureate's
Carmen Triumphale, for the Commencement of the Year 1814 or Scott's
The Field of Waterloo (1815). From its outset Childe Harold had
discounted the notion that there was something unique or essential to
national genius: the finer points of dress and weaponry aside,
Byron's Portuguese and Albanian mountaineers could just as well be
Highlanders. Byron underscores the superficiality of national
distinctions by implicitly comparing the River Tagus to the River Tweed:
But these between a silver streamlet glides,
And scarce a name distinguisheth the brook,
Though rival kingdoms press its verdant sides.
Here leans the idle shepherd on his crook,
And vacant on the rippling waves doth look,
That peaceful still 'twixt bitterest foeman flow;
For proud each peasant as the noblest duke;
Well doth the Spaniard hind the difference know
'Twixt him and Lusian slave, the lowest of the low.
(2: 23)
Like idle shepherds, national prejudice can be found always and
everywhere. But where Beattie skates over differences of time and place,
Byron offers copious detail, perplexing his reader by vacillating
between the competing claims of local culture and trans-national
civilization. To illustrate the untutored taste for ballad poetry
Beattie foregoes the local product and cites "The Children of the
Woods," an English ballad popularized by the polite Addison (Book
the First, 24). In his "Good Night" the cosmopolitan Childe
declares that he has no "care what land thou bear'st me
to"--in a ballad ironically adapted from Walter Scott's
place-specific Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (2:15). Beattie's
casual indifference to locality reflects a commitment to the values of
civilization; Byron's programmatic indifference, while it may
spring from similar sentiments, requires contrivance and specificity. As
with place, so with time: the Hermit's curriculum is casually
anachronistic; not so the Jacobite songs Byron ascribes to the British
troops marching out to encounter Napoleon (2: 86): this anachronism is
functional, a sly poke at Walter Scott and defenders of
"British" liberty.
The opposition between culture and civilization developed in
Scottish Spenserian poetry might be expressed as a distinction between
"being in" and "moving through." Scott's
Borderers are attached to persons and places; by contrast,
Campbell's Wyoming is settled by freedom-loving exiles from across
Europe. This Tory-Whig topographical dialectic is already visible in The
Castle of Indolence where the Wizard holds sleepy sway within close
boundaries while Industry strides across epochs and continents. The Land
of Liberty progresses through a sequence of islands stultified by a
genius of the place. In Cameron's ultra-Tory continuation of The
Minstrel a traditional society is threatened by Jacobinical
"improvers" from abroad. The other poems develop the dialectic
in less consistent but more interesting ways: we have Edwin's
reluctance to abandon village innocence, the opposing goods represented
by land and commerce in Mickle's poem, the divine intervention
Gillespie invokes to preserve Britain from the bane of imported Luxury.
Byron is consistent only in the irony with which he manages
juxtapositions of time and place. He invokes the genius of locality to
castigate Lord Elgin: "The last, the worst, dull spoiler, who was
he? / Blush, Caledonia! such thy son could be!" (2: 47). Mistaking
material for spiritual goods, this "modern Pict" has reenacted
the transmigration of Liberty! In the third canto Byron performs a
moving-through from the ruins of civilization to the glories of nature;
in the fourth canto a moving-back from commercial Venice to classical
Rome (both corrupt, both noble). Amid those venerable surroundings Byron
discovers the famous dying gladiator: "He reck'd not of the
life he lost nor prize, / But where his rude hut by the Danube lay"
(2:171). The passage underscores the viciousness of civilization and the
innocence of barbarism, leaving the reader, like Beattie's Edwin,
unsure which way to turn: are we to embrace North or South, romanticism
or classicism? But this, too, seems a distinction without a difference:
earlier in the canto the romantic Ariosto had been presented as the
"Southern Scott" and Walter Scott as the "Ariosto of the
North" (2: 137). Like the series of Thomson imitations of which it
is a part, Childe Harold is "all over the map" when it comes
to the competing virtues of locality and civilization.
This practice of reading against the grain also appears in
Byron's eidolon, Childe Harold. There is precedent in the series
for Harold's taken-from-the-life contrariety. If The Castle of
Indolence champions Industry, Thomson's verse-portrait enlists the
poet among the idle: "A Bard here dwelt, more fat than Bard
beseems," etc. (195). Byron, like Langhorne, would have supposed
that the attractively-repulsive Sir Martyn was modeled on some estimable if flawed original, and having read Beattie's letters he would have
recognized the self-portrait in the contrary characters of Edwin and the
Hermit. As a contributor to the series it was inevitable that he would
sit for his own portrait; the striking thing is how he accomplishes this
by walking widdershins around his predecessors. It was conventional to
prefer Thomson's Indolence canto of course, but it required a
degree of temerity to model Harold on Mickle's unreformed rake:
Yet not himselfe, but Heavens Great King he blamd,
And dard his Wisdom and his Will arraign;
For boldly he the Ways of God blasphemd,
And of blinde Governaunce did loudlie plain,
And vild selfe-pity would his eyes distain....
(72)
Harold's religious opinions were calculated to give great
offense to pious Scots like Mickle. At a time when Beattie's Edwin
was regarded as the paragon of poetic characters, Byron seems to have
empathized more with the classicizing Hermit. In the second canto
innocent Edwin is shocked by this stranger's confession:
Like them, abandon'd to Ambition's sway,
I sought for glory in the paths of guile;
And fawn'd and smiled, to plunder and betray,
Myself betray'd and plunder'd all the while;
So gnaw'd the viper the corroding file.
But now with pangs of keen remorse I rue
Those years of trouble and debasement vile.
(8)
If significant elements of Harold's character were already
present in Thomson's lazy poet, Mickle's guilt-ridden peer,
and Beattie's alienated humanist, no one but Byron would have,
could have conflated such disparate characters--though being who he was
and reading the series as he did, Harold does seem the proper choice for
"giving some connexion to the piece" (2: 4). Common to all is
the melancholia Byron uses with devastatingly equivocal effect to
explode the progress of genius:
Self-exiled Harold wanders forth again,
With nought of hope left, but with less of gloom;
The very knowledge that he lived in vain,
That all was over on this side the tomb,
Had made Despair a smilingness assume....
(2: 82)
Melancholia had been a touchstone of Spenserian poetry since the
first appearance of Colin Clout. While the extent to which Byron studied
The Faerie Queene is debatable, he was an attentive, critical reader of
the eighteenth-century Spenserians.
Conclusion
Within the Thomson series Childe Harold innovated with its
open-ended structure, its handling of the theme of genius, and its
treatment of the opposition between civilization and culture. It
required resourceful reading to discover latent possibilities in the
series and a mastery of imitation to use them to overtake such skilful
emulators as Campbell and Scott. The Castle of Indolence, the Concubine,
and the Minstrel all suffered from problems of closure: Thomson left
readers dissatisfied with the destruction of the castle and Mickle left
readers wondering what had become of the concubine. Beattie never
attempted closure, suggesting to Byron the possibility of an open-ended,
"experimental" poem that would make a virtue of his
predecessor's defect. Would Harold repent, would he progress? No,
as it turns out: he merely oscillates uncertainly between the black
melancholia of the vicious Sir Martyn and the white melancholia of the
virtuous Edwin. Genius was a heated topic among Scottish philosophers,
Thomas Blackwell regarding it as the spirit of the age and William Duff
as inspired individuality; Beattie had tried to split the difference by
making Edwin both medieval bard and modern wunderkind. (27) This was not
persuasive. By contrast, Byron's Harold, like Blackwell's
Homer, appears the representative voice of his times even as, like
Duff's Shakespeare, he demonstrates his individuality by making
"no pretension to regularity." In his genius for vacillation
Harold became the mirror of his times by being all things to all people:
Whigs and Tories alike believed that he was of their party; libertines
relished his wicked wit and pious Christians anticipated his return to
the fold. Byron's acceptance of willful inconsistency set up his
third innovation, which was to embrace both sides in the contention
between indolence and art, culture and civilization, rootedness and
cosmopolitanism: on these subjects, what right-minded person would not
be inconsistent? Childe Harold resolved nothing, but it did render the
intellectual conundrums posed by the Thomson imitations viscerally
immediate.
Byron innovated by attending less to what the poets said than to
what the series did, which was to underscore the inability of Scottish
writers to arrive at a consensus about progress. Byron's satire
takes inconsistency as an organizing principle, the Spenserian burlesque
of the opening stanzas setting the tone for more profound anachronisms
to follow. Childe Harold undermined both sides in the debate over
progress by incongruously juxtaposing things near and far, ancient and
contemporary. As a rhetorical strategy, juxtaposition turns on
immediacy, a solvent calculated to vex both liberals tracing a progress
of refinement and conservatives tracing a regress of tradition. Consider
how the journalistic immediacy of Childe Harold enabled Byron to overgo
the Spenserian poems recently published by Campbell and Scott. The
descriptions in Gertrude of Wyoming are pleasingly romantic, but it is a
mistake to place flamingoes in Pennsylvania. Byron, writing on site in
Albania, was at once distantly remote and more immediately present, a
modern Englishman stepping incongruously into a feudal society as
compelling as any of Scott's. In The Vision of Don Roderick Scott
attempted to render the Peninsular War historically sublime; Childe
Harold renders the scene contemporaneously antiheroic with its
on-the-spot account of the proceedings at Cintra. If Byron's
juxtaposition of modern warfare with traditional bull-fighting did not
settle the debate over progress, it was at least calculated to unsettle
both partisans of progress and partisans of tradition.
Yet for all its thrilling immediacy, no one could mistake Childe
Harold for mere journalism. The Spenserian stanza bestowed a pleasing
grandeur on the descriptions, like the faux-varnish of a Claude-glass.
Its aura of antiquity accorded with the general incongruity of the poem
and served other functions as well, like setting up the intertextual conversation about progress with Scott, Campbell, and the earlier
Scottish Spenserians. Emulative poets did not become imitators out of
indolence; to achieve classic status through imitation was a difficult
and worthy thing. There is a reason why Gillespie's Progress of
Refinement is no longer read: it made no significant innovations and
left no progeny. By contrast, the Spenser imitations composed by
Thomson, Beattie, and Byron changed the ways readers thought about
progress and the ways poets wrote poetry. As a consequence of the
Thomson series, the Spenserian stanza was already shifting status from
"obsolete" to "classic" when Byron spoke of it as
"sanctioned by the practice of Ariosto, Thomson, and Beattie"
(2: 5). If the stanza gave Childe Harold a venerable look, actual
classic stature could be granted only by later imitators. The reviews of
Childe Harold had little worthwhile to say about its literary pedigree.
The poetry tells a different story. The first imitation, Childe Alarique
(1813) by Robert Pearse Gillies, obviously reads Byron as an imitator of
the Castle of Indolence; more common were biographical "progress of
genius" poems that read Byron through Beattie (or vice versa). Most
common of all were the scores of Byronic odes and topographic poems in
Spenserian stanzas ruminating on the fall of empire--nineteenth-century
treatments of the conflict between Indolence and Industry that
ultimately derive from Thomson and the Scottish Spenserians. The
resources of imitation and emulation have seldom been used more
effectively than in Childe Harold.
Virginia Tech
(1.) William Cowper, The Poems of William Cowper, ed. John D.
Baird, Charles Ryskamp, 3 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon, 1980).
(2.) George Gordon, Lord Byron, The Complete Poetical Works, ed.
Jerome J. McGann, 7 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon, 1980), hereafter cited by
volume and page in the text.
(3.) "The Goose Quill," London Magazine 6 (1737): 268-69;
"The Razor, a Poem," American Magazine and Historical
Chronicle I (1743): 120-22; "The Thread-Bare Coat," London
Magazine 46 (1777): 431-32; Richard Atwood, "The Blanket, in
Imitation of Milton," Literary Magazine or Universal Review 2
(1757): 357-58; C. B., "The Easy Chair," Universal Chronicle,
or Weekly Gazette 3 (1760): 48; Edward Cooper, The Elbow-Chair: A
Rhapsody (London: F. Newbery, 1765); Robert Fergusson, "Tea. A
Poem," Weekly Magazine or Edinburgh Amusement 21 (1773): 177-78;
G., "The Country Barber's Shop," Lloyd's Evening
Post (1762): 106; John Knight, "The Needle: A Poem," Weekly
Miscellany or Instructive Entertainer l (1773): 249-52; John Nichols,
"The Wedding Ring," London Magazine 32 (1763): 608;
Christopher Pitt, "An Imitation of Spenser [The Jordan]," The
Student or Oxford and Cambridge Monthly Miscellany I (1750): 198-99; S.
R., "On a Pipe of Tobacco," Gazetteer and London Daily
Advertiser (1762); William Woty, "Meditations on a Sheet of Writing
Paper," Universal Chronicle, or Weekly Gazette 2 (1759): 113-14;
William Woty, "A Poem on a Pin," Lloyd's Evening Post
(1762): 574; William Woty. "The Old Shoe," Poetical Works
(London: Flexney, 1770) 2: 156-60.
(4.) James Thomson, Liberty, the Castle of Indolence, and Other
Poems, ed. James Sambrook (Oxford: Clarendon, 1986), William Julius
Mickle, The Concubine: A Poem in Two Cantos. In the Manner of Spenser
(Oxford: Daniel Prince, J. Rivington, T. Payne, J. Dodsley, 1767), James
Beattie, The Minstrel; or, the Progress of Genius. A Poem. Book the
First (London: E. & C. Dilly, and A. Kincaid & J. Bell, 1771),
James Beattie, The Minstrel; or, the Progress of Genius. A Poem. The
Second Book (London: Edward and Charles Dilly, William Creech, 1774).
(5.) John Tait, The Land of Liberty, an Allegorical Poem, in the
Manner of Spencer. In Two Cantos (London: T. Davies, 1775); James
Fordyce, "The Physiognomist: A Descriptive Poem, in Imitation of
Spenser," Poems (London: T. Cadell, 1786) 181-201; Francis Garden,
"The Fairy Queen: A Tale," Miscellanies in Prose and Verse
(Edinburgh: J. Robertson, 1791) 184-91; William Gillespie, "The
Progress of Refinement," The Progress of Refinement, an Allegorical
Poem, with Other Poems (Edinburgh: Mundell and Son, 1805) 3-115; William
Cameron, "The Minstrel continued on the original Plan of Dr.
Beattie," Poems on Several Occasions (Edinburgh: A. Constable,
1813) 45-84.
(6.) On Thomson's ambivalence in The Castle of Indolence, see
Mary Jane W. Scott, James Thomson, Anglo-Scot (Athens: U of Georgia P,
1988) 275-78. On the furious debates over reform in the Edinburgh where
Mickle spent his youth, see James Buchan, Crowded with Genius: the
Scottish Enlightenment: Edinburgh's Moment of the Mind (New York:
HarperCollins, 2003) 56-59 & ff. On the discussions of history at
Aberdeen when Beattie was a student, see Fiona J. Stafford, The Sublime
Savage: A Study of James Macpherson and the Poems of Ossian (Edinburgh:
Edinburgh UP, 1988) 24-37.
(7.) Corey Andrews finds it objectionable that "many critics
of eighteenth-century Scottish poetry have concentrated only on the
Scots poems, entirely dismissing those in English,"
"'Almost the Same, but Not Quite'": English Poetry
by Eighteenth-Century Scots," The Eighteenth Century 47.1 (2006):
61. If Scottish poets imitating English sources have not received their
due, the phenomenon of English poets imitating Scots has received even
less attention; Byron was hardly the first to imitate Thomson and
Beattie.
(8.) Francis Jeffrey, "Gertrude of Wyoming," Edinburgh
Review 14 (1809): 1-19.
(9.) Byron, a great admirer of eighteenth century poetry, would
have been highly flattered by what the Gentleman's Magazine had
said of his recent poem: "It unites much of the judgment of the
Essay on Criticism, the playful yet poignant smile and frown of
indignation and ridicule of the Dunciad, with the versification of the
Epistle to Arbuthnot, and the acuteness of the Imitations of
Horace" (79 [March 1809]: 248). The preface to Childe Harold speaks
in the highest terms of Thomson and Beattie, yet even a critic as
knowledgeable in eighteenth-century Spenserianism as Greg Kucich elects
to take The Faerie Queene as Byron's primary model: "Harold is
much closer in his stated role to Spenser's chivalric questers than
Beattie's wandering minstrel or Thomson's indolent bard"
Keats, Shelley, and Romantic Spenserianism (University Park:
Pennsylvania State UP, 1991) 115. Thomson and Beattie are not mentioned
at all in Michael G. Cooke's essay on Byron in the Spenser
Encyclopedia, ed. A. C. Hamilton (Toronto: U of Toronto P, 1990) 125-26.
(10.) Patricia Parker traces the topic of "indolence" as
a theme in Spenserian poetry, and Michael Vicario underscores the
importance of the two-canto structure adopted in the first installment
of Childe Harold (Patricia Parker, "The Progress of Phaedria's
Bower: Spenser to Coleridge," English Literary History 40 [1973]:
372-97; Michael Vicario, "The Implication of Form in Childe
Harold's Pilgrimage," Keats-Shelley Journal 33 [1984]:
112-13). For the use of the Spenserian stanza as a series-marker, see
the front-matter in my database (which includes full texts of the poems
discussed in this essay), "English Poetry 1579-1830: Spenser and
the Tradition" (2006). URL: englishpoetry.org.
(11.) William Drummond, Forth Feasting. A Panegyricke to the Kings
Most Excellent Majestie (Edinburgh: Andro Hart, 1617).
(12.) The most complete life of Mickle is by John Sire, editor of
Poetical Works (1806); he is a subject worthy of a modern biography.
Mickle marked the occasion of Hume's death with anonymous verses in
the Saint James' s Chronicle attacking the philosopher's
imperviousness to the beauties of poetry: "Shall gentle
Spenser's injur'd Muse / For him attune the Lay? / No, none of
these o'er his cold Grave / Shall strew one Leaf of Bay" (8
November 1776).
(13.) Henry Francis Cary, "William Julius Mickle," London
Magazine 5 (1822): 559-64.
(14.) William Julius Mickle, The Concubine: A Poem in Two Cantos.
In the Manner of Spenser. A New Edition, with Alterations (London: T.
Davies, T. Payne, J. Wilkie, 1769); hereafter cited by page in the text.
(15.) John Langhorne, "The Concubine," Monthly Review 36
(1767): 352-55.
(16.) Rose Mary Davis, The Good Lord Lyttelton: A Study in
Eighteenth Century Politics (Bethlehem, PA: Times Publishing Company,
1939).
(17.) Greg Kucich (71) Everard H. King, James Beattie's the
Minstrel and the Origins of Romantic Autobiography (Lewiston: Edwin
Mellen P, 1992), David Hill Radcliffe, "Completing James
Beattie's The Minstrel," Studies in Philology 100.4 (2003):
534-63.
(18.) Roger Robinson, "The Origins and Composition of James
Beattie's The Minstrel," Romanticism 4 (1998): 222-40.
(19.) William Forbes, An Account of the Life and Writings of James
Beattie, 2 vols. (Edinburgh: Constable, 1806) 1: 352.
(20.) Charles Rogers, The Modern Scottish Minstrel: Or, the Songs
of Scotland of the Past Half Century, 6 vols. (Edinburgh: 1855) 1:
170-71.
(21.) Alexander Chalmers, The General Biographical Dictionary, 32
vols. (London: J. Nichols, 1812) 14: 470-73.
(22.) Lives of the Scottish Poets by the Society of Ancient Scots,
ed. Joseph Robertson, 6 vols. in 3 vols. (London: T. Boys, 1822) 5:
82-103.
(23.) "The Progress of Refinement," Scots Magazine 67
(July 1805): 209-11.
(24.) James Manning, "The Progress of Refinement,"
Monthly Review NS 54 (October 1807): 209-11.
(25.) Thomas Gray, The Poems of Mr. Gray. To Which Are Prefixed
Memoirs of His Life and Writings, ed. William Mason (York: J. Dodsley,
J. Todd, 1775), William Walker, "William Cameron," The Bards
of Bon Accord, 1375-1860 (Aberdeen: J. & J. P. Edmond & Spark,
1887) 290-300.
(26.) Gillespie's politics got him into trouble during the
coronation affair; see "Arrest of a Clergyman for praying for her
Majesty" The Star (11 August 1820).
(27.) Beattie's teacher Thomas Blackwell, argued that the
genius of the poet is a product of the genius of his place and time,
that "the Effects of Culture and Education" are capable of
"new-moulding human Creatures, and transforming them more than
Urganda or Circe" (An Enquiry into the Life and Writings of Homer
[London: G. Scoten, 1735] 10); William Duff argued that "A man of
Genius is really a kind of different being from the rest of his
species" (Critical Observations on the Writings of the most
celebrated Original Geniuses in Poetry [London: T. Becket, 1770] 339).