330 CHAPTER XIV. PILGRIMAGE CONCLUDED. Or the fourteen pieces composed, or revised for publication, during his residence on the Danube and the Elbe, four only have been admitted to a place in his printed poems. The first was The Exile of Erin," written immediately after his arrival at Altona, where he lived in friendly intercourse with those brave but unfortunate men, who had taken refuge among the hospitable citizens of Hamburgh. Of this number was ***, with whom the Poet had agreed to travel, and whose character and influence gave him a high standing among his expatriated countrymen. Another was Anthony MacCann, the hero of the song-the real "Exile" of Erin-with whom Campbell ever afterwards maintained a friendly correspondence. In the society of these men he spent much of his leisure; several of them were highly accomplished; and the keen sympathy which he felt in their sufferings inspired that beautiful lyric, which, were other testimony wanting, would of itself consign the men and their cause to immortality. There is reason to believe that it was the first piece composed at Hamburgh; and that the rough sketch may be referred to the last week of October, or at latest to the beginning of November, when it was sung by the exiles themselves, "Rowan, MacCann, Donovan, and others," at their evening parties. * * * * * In reference to this subject, the Poet has summed up his recollections in the following words :-" While tarrying at Hamburgh, I made acquaintance with some of the refugee Irishmen, who had been concerned in the rebellion of 1798. Among these was Anthony MacCann an honest, excellent man-who is still, I believe, alive at least, I left him in prosperous circumstances at Altona, a few years ago. When I first knew him, he was in a situation much the reverse; but Anthony commanded respect whether he was rich or poor. It was in consequence of meeting him one evening on the banks of the Elbe, lonely and pensive at the thoughts of his situation, that I wrote "The Exile of Erin.' "By the way, it happened to me some seven years ago, and thirty after I had written that Poem, to see myself accused in the public papers of not having been the author of it, but of having surreptitiously carried off the credit of composing it from an Irishman of the name of Nugent, whose sister swore to having seen it in her brother's handwriting, at a date even earlier than its possible composition. Now this Mr. Nugent was a relation of the Duke of Buckingham's family, and died at Stowe, after a residence of fifteen months, during the whole of which time, though my name was publicly affixed to the "Exile of Erin," he made no claim to the authorship of the song. This I proved by the help of Lord Nugent, who got a certificate from the clergyman of Stowe, as to the date of his kinsman's death; and after that fact, the question cannot well be mooted. But, in behalf of all who may be innocently accused, I have to say that conscious innocence is by no means a security against our being deeply pained by unjust accusation. It was impossible to be more innocent of the charge alleged * These autobiographical notes were written in 1837. MacCann is since dead. Campbell and he met last in the autumn of 1825. than I was. My accusers were only an editor of a provincial Irish newspaper, and an old lady-the sister of Mr. Nugent; and my Irish friends told me that nobody in Ireland believed the calumny. Yet it annoyed me not a little; for it is next to impossible for a man to prove himself the author of what he wrote thirty years ago; and, until Lord Nugent sent me the certificate of Nugent's burial, I could not say that I had any irrefragable proof on the subject." * * * To all unprejudiced readers, this plain statement, in the Poet's own words, will appear sufficient to set the question at rest; but, as the charge has been revived since his death, it may be necessary, in a future portion of these Letters, to examine it more fully, that it may be seen upon what testimony the accusation rests, and by what incontestible facts his claim to the authorship is established.* The first of the poetical pieces which Campbell transmitted from Germany to Mr. Perry was "Lines on Visiting a Scene in Argyllshire." They were sketched, as already mentioned, during his visit to the paternal mansion in 1798, finished at Hamburgh, and dedicated to his friend, Mr. Richardson. It is probable that the novel and embarrassing position, in which the author was placed, soon after his arrival in Bavaria, may have suggested the lofty moral sentiment with which it concludes-for at no period of life was his philosophy more severely tried : * "Réfuter des critiques est un vain amour-propre; confondre la calomnie est un devoir !" and so also thought Campbell in this case; for it was not of a severe or unjust criticism, but of a bold attack upon his character, that he had to complain; and, coming from a quarter where he ought to have stood above suspicion, his sensitive mind was, for a time, deeply hurt by so gross an impeachment. But it was gratifying to him to know, that none of his Irish friends believed the calumny; and, to their honour be it said, one of those friends has investigated the question so thoroughly in the very quarter where it originated, as to leave nothing unaccomplished. See Appendix. Be hushed my dark spirit! for wisdom condemns Be strong as the rock of the ocean that stems A thousand wild waves on the shore. Thro' the perils of chance and the scowl of disdain, The second piece transmitted from Germany, and published in the "Morning Chronicle," was "The Beechtree's petition," written at the request of his sister Mary. This venerable tree still adorns the garden of Ardwell, the seat of James Murray M'Culloch, Esq., who has favoured me with the annexed particulars, which give a new and pleasing interest to the subject: "As respects the 'Beechen Tree,' I will give you the same account of it, which I gave to Sir Walter Scott, and which satisfied him as to our just right to claim it. It is this:-On occasion of one of my happy visits to Abbotsford, my friend Sir Walter and I were taking a forenoon's walk over his fields. In our conversation, some allusion was made to The Pleasures of Hope,' and to the celebrated author of that fine poem; when Sir Walter said— 'By the bye, I was lately told that the Beechen Tree' of Tom Campbell stands in your garden, at Ardwell. This I took upon me to contradict, for I had never heard my friend Campbell say that he had been at Ardwell; nor did I ever hear you say that he had been there.' I answered 'Indeed, my dear sir, you have unintentionally done us injustice; for it stands in our garden, and we are 6 * The disappointment, darkly hinted at in this line, appears to have some reference to an event which took place in January of the preceding year. See page 145. very proud of our classic and celebrated 'Beech.' We must not be deprived of our tree, especially by such authority as yours; so you must get the matter authenticated, as soon as you have any opportunity of doing so. It is quite true that your friend never was at Ardwell, but I shall tell you how the whole matter happened:-About the time you and I got acquainted, I lived and had a small establishment at Craigie-Burn in Dumfries-shire (Burns' Craigie Burn). I then occasionally went to visit the family of Sir W. Richardson, Bart., at Ardwell, and then my tenant. On a fine forenoon, while walking in the garden with the ladies of the family and the Misses Maxwell of Cardness, the stately beech,' being in full foliage commanded the admiration of the party: this I joined in, but I told them at the same time, that, fine as he was, he now stood condemned to die! On being asked (while the ladies expressed horror and indignation in their countenances) what I meant, I told them the gardener had complained that he could get no garden crop to grow near the tree, and that a large forest tree had no right to be in a kitchen garden; that he had asked leave to take it out root and branch, and that I had granted leave accordingly. I was immediately set upon, almost tooth and nail,' by my fair companions, and I was fain to get quit of the fair ones, by giving my solemn promise to give the beechen tree a reprieve! "A short time subsequently, I received an anonymous manuscript-in writing so bad, that I had neither patience nor time to read it, so I put it aside among other papers, and it lay by me for some time. My brother-in-law, Tom Scott (brother to Sir Walter), was with me at CraigieBurn; he and my sister, who were both connoisseurs and admirers of Campbell, were speaking of the Poet.-My sister asked Tom Scott if Campbell had written anything |