Plan of the island of Dominica (1776). John Carter Brown Library, Brown University, Cabinet Es776 ByJ (2).

I have written before about William Macintosh’s business relationship with William Johnstone (later William Pulteney), with whom he co-owned a plantation on Dominica. I had been unaware, however, about the specific details of their holding. The above map, digitised by the John Carter Brown Library, was published in 1776 following an eight-year survey of the Windward Islands undertaken by the Commission for the Sale of Lands in the Ceded Islands following the end of the Seven Years’ War.

The map was accompanied by an explanatory pamphlet—References to the Plan of the Island of Dominica, as Surveyed from the Year 1765 to 1773 (1777)—which indicates that, by the year of the survey’s completion, Macintosh owned the freehold of three lots in the parish of St David (one of which he had previously co-owned with Pulteney, or Poultney as he is rendered here).

Extract from References to the Plan of the Island of Dominica, as Surveyed from the Year 1765 to 1773 (1777).

Macintosh’s lots—51, 52, and 53, bordered to the south by the French River—can be seen in the detailed enlargement of the map below.

Detail of Plan of the island of Dominica (1776). John Carter Brown Library, Brown University, Cabinet Es776 ByJ (2).

Two years after the map’s publication, Dominica was invaded by French forces eager to regain their lost territory.

Frontispiece and title page of The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano (1789).

In my efforts to piece together, from secondary fragments, the trajectory of William Macintosh’s life, I am sometimes surprised by the strange coincidences and unexpected moments of encounter which are revealed. One such is contained in The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano (1789).

Equiano’s significance, as a freed slave, to the eighteenth-century abolitionist movement is well documented, but I had been unaware that he and Macintosh had encountered one another in Grenada in 1771. Macintosh was, at that point, justice of the peace for the parish of St Andrew’s and Equiano came to him to seek redress (unsuccessfully) over an unpaid debt. Equiano records the incident in his autobiography thus:

In April 1771 I shipped myself as a steward with Capt. Wm. Robertson of the ship Grenada Planter, once more to [end p. 95] try my fortune in the West Indies; and we sailed from London for Madeira, Barbadoes, and the Grenades. When we were at this last place, having some goods to sell, I met once more with my former kind of West India customers. A white man, an islander, bought some goods of me to the amount of some pounds, and made me many fair promises as usual, but without any intention of paying me. He had likewise bought goods from some more of our people, whom he intended to serve in the same manner; but he still amused us with promises. However, when our ship was loaded, and near sailing, this honest buyer discovered no intention or sign of paying for any thing he had bought of us; but on the contrary, when I asked him for my money he threatened me and another black man he had bought goods of, so that we found we were like to get more blows [end p. 96] than payment. On this we went to complain to one Mr. M’Intosh, a justice of the peace; we told his worship of the man’s villainous tricks, and begged that he would be kind enough to see us redressed: but being negroes, although free, we could not get any remedy; and our ship being then just upon the point of sailing, we knew not how to help ourselves, though we thought it hard to lose our property in this manner. Luckily for us however, this man was also indebted to three white sailors, who could not get a farthing from him; they therefore readily joined us, and we all went together in search of him. When we found where he was, I took him out of a house and threatened him with vengeance; on which, finding he was likely to be handled roughly, the rogue offered each of us some small allowance, but nothing near our demands. This [end p. 97] exasperated us much more; and some were for cutting his ears off; but he begged hard for mercy, which was at last granted him, after we had entirely stripped him. We then let him go, for which he thanked us, glad to get off so easily, and ran into the bushes, after having wished us a good voyage. We then repaired on board, and shortly after set sail for England (vol. 2, 95–98).

In the late summer of 2014, Robert Darnton launched an open-access website collecting together primary materials (and well as Darnton’s own published work) relating to the French book trade between 1769 and 1789. Represented among this fantastic collection is Darnton’s long-standing interest in Jacques Pierre Brissot (who undertook the French translation of Macintosh’s Travels) and the Société typographique de Neuchâtel (STN) who distributed it (at least in part).

Brissot’s correspondence with the STN had previously been made available via the Voltaire Foundation’s website, but has usefully been brought together on Darnton’s site (and richly supplemented by additional materials). These letters show that Brissot first wrote to the STN over Macintosh’s book on 23 June 1784, identifying it as one of “deux ouvrages qu’on désirerait vendre à la feuille afin de n’avoir aucune difficulté”. Brissot’s letter wrongly transliterates the book’s title as Voyages en Amérique, en Afrique, en Asie (rather than Voyages en Europe, en Asie et en Afrique, as it would later appear). To whet the appetite of the STN, Brissot noted that Voyages was “entièrement neuf et non encore traduit”. In a later missive, dated 22 October 1784, Brissot referred to the book as Nouveaux Voyages de Mackintosh en Asie—an inconsistency which points to the fact that he had yet to settle on a fixed title for his translation.

Something of the complexity of identifying reference to Macintosh and his work across different linguistic context is exemplified in these letters. The Anglophone Macintosh is the Francophone Mackintosh; the Anglophone Travels in Europe, Asia, and Africa is, variously, Voyages en Amérique…, Voyages en Europe…, and Nouveaux Voyages de Mackintosh…. In any event, Robert Darnton and his research assistants are to be congratulated for putting together such an interesting and useful open-access resource.

Of the various reviews of Macintosh’s Travels in the months following its publication in 1782, that which appeared in the newly established European Magazine is unusual in one specific respect: it contains a detailed biographical sketch of the book’s supposedly anonymous author.

The European Magazine had been established at the beginning of 1782 by the Scottish journalist James Perry (1756–1821) as a competitor to the more venerable Gentleman’s Magazine. Given that other contemporary reviews of Travels speculated at some length as to its unknown author, quite how the European Magazine knew who Macintosh was (and, indeed, knew so much about him) is uncertain.

James Perry (1756–1821). National Portrait Gallery, D5511.

The “Anecdotes of the Author” which follows the review could only have come directly, we might assume, from Macintosh himself or from John Murray, so rich is that sketch in terms of biographical detail. It is possible that Macintosh and Perry were acquaintances (although a first glance indicates that Macintosh’s book was not in Perry’s personal library). In any event, it is perhaps more interesting to speculate about why Macintosh or Murray would wish to subvert the anonymity of Travels by revealing its authorship in this way.

Whatever its origin or intended purpose, the sketch was a flattering one and positioned Macintosh as a reliable and truthful witness. It concludes: “Mr. Macintosh is a person of very genteel appearance, and polite address, and his heart is warm and susceptible of friendship”.

Whilst my interest in Macintosh’s Travels centres primarily on its contemporary significance and reading, the status of the book as a commodity points to no-less-interesting questions to do with its afterlife (that is to say, with what happened to the book—and to Macintosh’s ideas—when they had lost their contemporary currency). That a market for Travels continued to exist after Macintosh’s death is evidenced not only by its current status as a rare and collectable book, but by its circulation in the nineteenth century.

Advertisement in The Publishers’ Circular (1850).

A classified advertisement placed in the “Books Wanted to Purchase” section of The Publishers’ Circular (1 June 1850) by the London firm Taylor, Walton, and Maberly indicates, for example, that nearly three-quarters of a century after the original publication of Travels, there was a market for it (albeit a market that was somewhat uncertain with regard to the book’s bibliographical specifics). Given that Taylor, Walton, and Maberly was official bookseller and publisher to University College, London, it is possible that the firm had been commissioned in its search for Travels by an academic member of staff at the college. Whatever motivation lay behind the search for Travels in this case, it is yet another suggestive fragment of evidence which helps to illuminate something of the book’s afterlife.

The auction catalogues of library sales are (as I have previously noted) often a useful source in reconstructing the ownership (and inferring the readership) of a particular text. One of the many nineteenth-century auction catalogues in which Macintosh’s Travels was listed for sale was that drawn up in 1823 to dispose of the enormous (20,000-volume) library which William Beckford (1760–1844) had assembled in his equally enormous Fonthill Abbey.

William Beckford (1760–1844).

Beckford’s collection, listed in The valuable library of books in Fonthill Abbey (1823) and sold by the London auctioneer Harry Phillips, included a 1782 first edition of Macintosh’s Travels and a copy of Joseph Price’s critical response.

Whilst it is possible that Beckford purchased these texts at the time of their publication, it seems more probable that these were originally part of the private library of Edward Gibbon (1737–1794)—parliamentarian and author of The history of the decline and fall of the Roman Empire (1776–88)—which was sold to Beckford following Gibbon’s death.

Edward Gibbon (1737–1794).

There are a number of interesting connections between Gibbon and Warren Hastings. Both were alumni of Westminster School and Gibbon was present at Hastings’ parliamentary trial—an event he described as a ‘persecution’, motivated by party politics. Whether or not Gibbon’s sympathy for Hastings was motivated by their shared educational background is unclear. It would clearly be interesting to know, however, what Gibbon thought of Macintosh’s criticism of Hastings (assuming Gibbon was the original owner of the copy of Travels auctioned off in London in 1823).

Lot 2716. A first edition of Macintosh’s “Travels” (1782).

A recent spell of hot weather in London has made it difficult to sleep at night—particularly so last Thursday when the temperature in my attic flat was still 30°C at midnight. Whilst I lay searching for sleep, I wondered quite how Macintosh, raised in the bracing climate of the highlands of Scotland, adapted to life in the tropical warmth of Grenada. Attempting to put my insomnia to profitable purpose, I made a periodic check of rare-book auction sites in an effort to track down a copy of Travels in Europe, Asia, and Africa (1782) that might fall within my modest budget. Prices for bound copies of the 1782 first edition from John Murray usually run from £500 to £1,000, way beyond what I could afford. I was, therefore, thrilled when at 1:30 a.m. on Friday morning I spotted a listing at Lawrences for an auction of travel and exploration texts which included a somewhat rough and ready first edition of Travels (lot 2716, estimated at £100–£150).

From the accompanying photograph, it was clear the book was not in the best shape. Presented in its original boards (to which most 18th-century buyers would have added a bespoke binding to match the other texts in their private libraries) it was described in the listing as “a little shaken”. Whether it was the excitement of discovery (or the overwhelming heat of the night) I placed a bid by commission (a handy process that can be done on-line up to an hour before the auction begins). Encouraged by the estimate, I decided to go all out and bid £250 (plus buyer’s premium and eventual postage and packaging) in the hope that this might be enough to secure it. Sadly, however, it sold for £280; I missed out by £30. Although I had bid at the top end of my budget, I suspect that had I been in the auction room itself, the romance and bidding frenzy might have got to me. So, for now, the late-night searching continues.

I am grateful to Deirdre Grieve for alerting me to a new exhibition at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum, “How Glasgow Flourished, 1714–1837“, which examines that city’s financial success during the Georgian era.

The exhibition, which runs until 17 August, includes a number of references to William Macintosh’s successful industrialist brother, George. Having not seen the oil painting  of George in the flesh (as it were), I hope to be able to visit the exhibition during its current run.

Bill for the schooling of Master Macintosh (1772). Archives départementales de Vaucluse, 2 E Titres de famille 83, “John Townson / 1768″.

Macintosh was, for much of their early lives, geographically remote from his children: a daughter and at least one son. Although Macintosh’s daughter survived to adulthood and was married, I know very little about his son (indeed, whether there was more than one). Master Macintosh (assuming there was only one) was not referred to in his father’s will, which indicates, sadly, that he was no longer alive at the point at which the will was drafted.

It is clear, however, that Macintosh cared very greatly about the education of his son and paid rather handsomely for it. Macintosh had placed his son under the “tender & conscientious care & guardianship of men of virtue, friendship, & liberality of sentiment” in Britain, in the hope that Master Macintosh might have a stable upbringing and an effective education. Macintosh set out (in a letter to his son from Madras in 1779) his views as to a correct education for a child of his station. They are worth quoting at length:

A knowledge of the Latin is indispensably necessary to give you a true idea of your nature tongue, besides that it is a language universally understood in Europe, although not practiced in conversation. If you were younger (than 11 years) I would wish you to know the rudiments of Greek, because many scientific terms & words of our own language are derived from it; but I despair at this. Every gentleman ought to understand orthography, unexceptionally. To {indecipherable} & distinctly. All the common rules of arithmetic. Book-keeping as practiced by merchants, with double entry. The principles of mathematics. Geography. A just idea of astronomy. The principles of laws. And ancient and modern histories. Indeed, a man of business, cannot be competent without them; otherwise, buy acting without, any fixed principle, he will be continually exposed to errors & impositions, & success can only be the effect of chance. And without them a man in public station, while each successive measure betrays ignorance which will justly expose him to ridicule & contempt, may be misled in that degree that, the security, or at least the prosperity, of the stake may be sapped & endangered. Dancing & fencing are not only graceful, but useful accomplishments; the one enables a man to be at his ease in company, & the other may secure him from insults. Riding, according to rule, has its utility & gracefulness also. It is not possible to convey all the advantages resulting from these qualifications, through the several stages of life, in the circumscribed compass of a letter. I deliver you the texts, & leave the expositions to friends, & to your own heart. Let the latter be your universal monitor.

Macintosh’s habit of keeping detailed financial accounts, as well as invoices and receipts, means that we have some sense about what it cost to educate Master Macintosh. A bill dated July 1772 (above) sets out the principal costs associated with Master Macintosh’s schooling. These included:

• “6 Months board and Instruction” at £10;
• “Board in the Christmas Vacation” at £1 12s.;
• “a Hatt [sic]” at 2s. 9d.;
• “Cutting of Hair & Cleaning of Shoes” at 2s.;
• and “a Spelling Book” at 10d.

Instruction, and the necessities of life, amounted to £15 14s. 6d. for six months.

Macintosh’s concern for his son, and for his education, is evident and touching. His letter from Madras (which runs to more than twenty pages and offers his son a series of life lessons) is both fascinating and deeply moving. My principal task for the summer will be to recommence the systematic transcription of the archival material I was able to photograph in Avignon in 2012, paying particular attention, in the first instance, to the materials relating to Macintosh’s time in the Caribbean.

Audi alteram partem (1770). From the pen of Macintosh?

I have been reading, with great interest, a recently-published article in The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History by a graduate student (Aaron Willis) at the University of Notre Dame: “The standing of new subjects: Grenada and the Protestant constitution after the Treaty of Paris (1763)“.

Willis’s paper concerns the political difficulties which surrounded the incorporation of French Catholics into the British Empire following the ceding of Grenada at the end of the Seven Years’ War. In broad terms, opinion was divided among islanders as to the extent to which political rights which applied to British Protestants should be extended to French Catholics. These divisions resulted in political stalemate which lasted through much of the late 1760s and early 1770s. Willis offers a neat summary of the principal pamphlets which were issued during this period and argued, at turns, for and against the rights of French Catholics.

There is some evidence to suggest that one of these pamphlets—Audi alteram partem (1770)—which Willis describes as being “[t]he most sustained defence of Catholic rights” was co-authored by Macintosh. That, at least, was the opinion of an anonymous reviewer writing in The Political Register (May, 1770) who noted “It is almost needless to add, that Mr. Mackintosh [sic], Col. [James] Johnstone, and Mr. Scott are the Authors of Audi Alteram Partem…and are the agents and abettors of the Romish party there”. Clearly it will require some digging to determine whether or not there is any validity in this claim, or that Macintosh was “known to be zealous in the cause of the Roman Catholic French subjects at Grenada”. I would think, however, the latter is a safe bet.