Carlyle and Stewart, son of the
Provost of Edinburgh, and other Scots, at the Golden Ball in Cockspur
Street. There they were enjoying "a frugal supper and a little punch,"
when the news of Culloden arrived. Carlyle had been a Whig volunteer:
he, probably, was happy enough; but Stewart, whose father was in prison,
grew pale, and left the room. Smollett and Carlyle then walked home
through secluded streets, and were silent, lest their speech should
bewray them for Scots. "John Bull," quoth Smollett, "is as haughty and
valiant to-day, as he was abject and cowardly on the Black Wednesday when
the Highlanders were at Derby."
"Weep, Caledonia, weep!" he had written in his tragedy. Now he wrote
"Mourn, hapless Caledonia, mourn." Scott has quoted, from Graham of
Gartmore, the story of Smollett's writing verses, while Gartmore and
others were playing cards. He read them what he had written, "The Tears
of Scotland," and added the last verse on the spot, when warned that his
opinions might give offence.
"Yes, spite of thine insulting foe,
My sympathising verse shall flow."
The "Tears" are better than the "Ode to Blue-Eyed Ann," probably Mrs.
Smollett. But the courageous author of "The Tears of Scotland," had
manifestly broken with patrons. He also broke with Rich, the manager at
Covent Garden, for whom he had written an opera libretto. He had failed
as doctor, and as dramatist; nor, as satirist, had he succeeded.
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