Saturday 3 July 2021

David Carey's 'A Legend of Argyle' 1821

 I think it is fair to say that David Carey (1782-1824)  is not well known, even among readers of early 19th century Scottish fiction. Most of the books of criticism of that period that I have make no mention of him. The only work in the huge Robert Lee Wolff Collection is his Lochiel; Or, The Field of Culloden (3 vols., 1820). He was the son of an Arbroath manufacturer who, after initially working in his father's counting-house, moved to Edinburgh. Here he laboured in Archibald Constable's publishing business. He then moved to London and became a fervent supporter of the Whig government. In 1807, he became editor of the Inverness Journal, but left that post in 1812 to edit the Boston Gazette. In 1822, we find him in Paris and on his return he published Life in Paris (1822), which is possibly his most-well-known work.  Wracked with ill-health, he returned to the family home in Arbroath, dying of consumption eighteen months later.

He published six novels - as well as volumes of poems. They were:-  

1806: Secrets of the Castle; or, The Adventures of Charles D'Almaine (2 vols.)                                  

1820: Lochiel; or, The Field of Culloden (3vols.)                                                                                     

1821: A Legend of Argyle; or, 'Tis a Hundred Years Since (3 vols.)                                                       

1822: Life in Paris                                                                                                                                       

1824: Frederick Morland                                                                                                                          

1834: The Nuptial Doom; or, The Witch of Scot-muir

There are several copies of Life in Paris on the Internet, and two other first editions of A Legend of Argyle, but I have been unable, so far, to trace the other four works.

First edition (G. & W.B. Whitaker) 1821

I enjoyed reading the tale. I suppose, inevitably, it reeks of Scott. One of the plot-lines is that of an infant being taken to the continent and who grows up with only a dim recollection of his origins. Hello, Guy Mannering! There are the trusty servants (a fisher family who could have graced The Antiquary), slightly anaemic damsels, who gain their lovers in a lightning-fast few pages of 'wrapping-up' at the end of Volume III. There are also, more's the pity, stanzas of mediocre verse inserted into the narrative every so often - in Latin, French, Italian, Scots and English. He also follows Sir Walter in starting each chapter with a few lines from Shakespeare, Dryden and other, lesser, scribblers. Being a novel of the '15, Rob Roy has to make an appearance, but Carey specifically references Sir Walter - as the outward man of the free-booter on this occasion, as described by tradition, differs very materially from that of a certain celebrated writer, we offer no apology for attempting to sketch an outline of it, leaving the reader to judge which is most likely to be correct.

Carey can write a good scene - the attempted (Polonius-like) assassination of Gordon in Ronay's castle; the stumbling on the brawny and gigantic Highlanders asleep in the derelict Castle of Haddo; the civic scenes in Perth and Edinburgh; but there are several chapters which are simply 'padding' and could easily be cut out.

Rorie Kennedy (junr.) the young fisherman is quite a comic character - able to sing mournful ditties (to an air inexpressibly and sweetly wild) and who would never tak' money for ony thing but fish... and whose sentences are regularly spiced with marine metaphors and who has a terror of bogles.
The hero (and 'foundling', just 20 years back) General Gordon is a bit too good to be true, gallant officer that he is, but at least he has more initiative about him than many of Scott's young heroes. His soon-to-be-friend, Major Howard, a young English officer of noble family, is not much more than a cardboard figure.

Carey also tries his hand at the stock Scott humorous (usually foreign or very Scottish) adult - this motley crew include the short, squat and pompous Reverend Principal King D.D. at Magdalen College, Oxford; Provost Mac Codrum, equally pompous and out for the main chance; the scheming but ridiculous figure of Provost Callum of Perth; the buffoon (but not very amusing) Ambassador and Plenipotentiary from Louis XIV, Monsieur Grandfourbe, who out-Scott's Sir Walter for an irritating creation; there is the caricature zealot, Saunders Knox. Duncan Buy, the vigilant Butler of Inverara and veteran in the cellar and in the field, and his drinking pal, Murdoch Ross (Ronay's henchman); Donald of the Curragh, Euphemia's manservant and auld carl, provide humorous relief; Admittedly, it's occasionally difficult to sort out the Ronalds and the Donalds. Brigadier MacIntosh, the Laird of Borlum, with his antique helmet, cuirass and pike, brings the pages alive in his journeys from Perth to Leith,  and on to Preston. Carey flirts with an old beldame figure - in this instance, Janet Gray the housekeeper of the forbidding Dunalascaig, whom young Rorie inevitably suspects of being a witch. At least, she is not a spectre.

The two 'heroines' (if that is not too strong a word) are really stock characters. General Gordon's 'squeeze', Euphemia Hamilton, not only rides well but has a figure on which a sculptor would have gazed with delight and edification...tall even to a commanding height...her gait was elastic and graceful, but firm and unconstrained...A good egg, too. Matching her for beauty, is the imprisoned damsel in the dark tower of the Castle of Dunalascaig, the fair Italian - Signorina Macellaro

The baddie, The Earl of Ronay, with a flashing dark eye, is unevenly written about. The Earl of Mar, the Jacobite leader, is quite well (and accurately) sketched in. James VIII, the Old Pretender, makes a fleeting appearance.
 
As for the holder of the book's title, the Duke of Argyle, (Mac Cullumore) Carey is practically a worshipper of the illustrious nobleman, and his hero (for he is the real hero) scarcely puts a foot wrong. He was a consummate general, a patriotic chief, and one of the most enlightened supporters of that civil and religious liberty which had so recently been established on the ruins of the House of Stuart. The Dictionary of Scottish History by Ian Donnachie & George Hewitt (2001) paints a different portrait under its Campbell, John, second Duke of Argyll (1678-1743) - his services were only acquired after he had been promised considerable financial rewards, promoted to major-general in the royal army and elevated to the dukedom of Greenwich...'Red John of the Battles' dealt effectively with the Jacobite Rebellion...his later life was largely devoted to politics. Here, as a result of extensive patronage as well as electoral corruption...he controlled, at his death, about half the constituencies in the country. Oh well, it was only fiction!

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