Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott Volume V Part 24

At Dryburgh, Scott pointed out to us the sepulchral aisle of his Haliburton ancestors, and said he hoped, in G.o.d's appointed time, to lay his bones among their dust. The spot was, even then, a sufficiently interesting and impressive one; but I shall not say more of it at present.

On returning to Abbotsford, we found Mrs. Scott and her daughters doing penance under the merciless curiosity of a couple of tourists who had arrived from Selkirk soon after we set out for Melrose. They were rich specimens--tall, lanky young men, both of them rigged out in new jackets and trousers of the Macgregor tartan; the one, as they had revealed, being a lawyer, the other a Unitarian preacher, from New England. These gentlemen, when told on their arrival that Mr. Scott was not at home, had shown such signs of impatience, that the servant took it for granted they must have serious business, and asked if they would wish to speak a word with his {p.288} lady. They grasped at this, and so conducted themselves in the interview, that Mrs. Scott never doubted they had brought letters of introduction to her husband, and invited them accordingly to partake of her luncheon. They had been walking about the house and grounds with her and her daughters ever since that time, and appeared at the porch, when the Sheriff and his party returned to dinner, as if they had been already fairly enrolled on his visiting list. For the moment, he too was taken in--he fancied that his wife must have received and opened their credentials--and shook hands with them with courteous cordiality. But Mrs. Scott, with all her overflowing good-nature, was a sharp observer; and she, before a minute had elapsed, interrupted the ecstatic compliments of the strangers, by reminding them that her husband would be glad to have the letters of the friends who had been so good as to write by them.

It then turned out that there were no letters to be produced--and Scott, signifying that his hour for dinner approached, added, that as he supposed they meant to walk to Melrose, he could not trespa.s.s further on their time. The two lion-hunters seemed quite unprepared for this abrupt escape. But there was about Scott, in perfection, when he chose to exert it, the power of civil repulsion; he bowed the overwhelmed originals to his door, and on reentering the parlor, found Mrs. Scott complaining very indignantly that they had gone so far as to pull out their note-book, and beg an exact account, not only of his age--but of her own. Scott, already half relenting, laughed heartily at this misery. He observed, however, that, "if he were to take in all the world, he had better put up a sign-post at once,--

'Porter, ale, and British spirits, Painted bright between twa trees;'[118]

and that no traveller of respectability could ever be at a loss for such an introduction as would insure his best {p.289} hospitality."

Still he was not quite pleased with what had happened--and as we were about to pa.s.s, half an hour afterwards, from the drawing-room to the dining-room, he said to his wife, "Hang the Yahoos, Charlotte--but we should have bid them stay dinner." "Devil a bit," quoth Captain John Ferguson, who had again come over from Huntly Burn, and had been latterly a.s.sisting the lady to amuse her Americans, "Devil a bit, my dear,--they were quite in a mistake, I could see. The one asked Madame whether she deigned to call her new house Tully-Veolan or Tillietudlem; and the other, when Maida happened to lay his nose against the window, exclaimed _pro-di-gi-ous_! In short, they evidently meant all their humbug not for you, but for the culprit of Waverley, and the rest of that there rubbish." "Well, well, Skipper,"

was the reply, "for a' that, the loons would hae been nane the waur o'

their kail."

[Footnote 118: Macneill's _Will and Jean_.]

From this banter it may be inferred that the younger Ferguson had not as yet been told the Waverley secret--which to any of that house could never have been any mystery. Probably this, or some similar occasion soon afterwards, led to his formal initiation; for during the many subsequent years that the veil was kept on, I used to admire the tact with which, when in their topmost high-jinks humor, both "Captain John" and "The Auld Captain" eschewed any the most distant allusion to the affair.

And this reminds me, that at the period of which I am writing, none of Scott's own family, except of course his wife, had the advantage in that matter of the Skipper. Some of them, too, were apt, like him, so long as no regular confidence had been reposed in them, to avail themselves of the author's reserve for their own sport among friends.

Thus one morning, just as Scott was opening the door of the parlor, the rest of the party being already seated at the breakfast-table, the Dominie was in the act of helping himself to an egg, marked with {p.290} a peculiar hieroglyphic by Mrs. Thomas Purdie, upon which Anne Scott, then a lively rattling girl of sixteen, lisped out, "That's a mysterious-looking egg, Mr. Thomson--what if it should have been meant for _the Great Unknown_?" Ere the Dominie could reply, her father advanced to the foot of the table, and having seated himself and deposited his stick on the carpet beside him, with a sort of whispered whistle--"What's that Lady Anne's[119] saying?" quoth he; "I thought it had been well known that the _keelavined_ egg must be a soft one for _the Sherra_." And so he took his egg, and while all smiled in silence, poor Anne said gayly, in the midst of her blushes, "Upon my word, papa, I thought Mr. John Ballantyne might have been expected." This allusion to Johnny's glory in being considered as the accredited representative of Jedediah Cleishbotham produced a laugh,--at which the Sheriff frowned--and then laughed too.

[Footnote 119: When playing, in childhood, with the young ladies of the Buccleuch family, she had been overheard saying to her namesake Lady Anne Scott, "Well, I do wish I were Lady Anne too--it is so much prettier than Miss;" thenceforth she was commonly addressed in the family by the coveted t.i.tle.]

I remember nothing particular about our second day's dinner, except that it was then I first met my dear and honored friend William Laidlaw. The evening pa.s.sed rather more quietly than the preceding one. Instead of the dance in the new dining-room, we had a succession of old ballads sung to the harp and guitar by the young ladies of the house; and Scott, when they seemed to have done enough, found some reason for taking down a volume of Crabbe, and read us one of his favorite tales,--

"Grave Jonas Kindred, Sibyl Kindred's sire, Was six feet high, and looked six inches higher," etc.

But jollity revived in full vigor when the supper-tray was introduced; and to cap all merriment, Captain Ferguson dismissed us with The Laird of c.o.c.kpen. Lord and Lady Melville were to return to Melville Castle next {p.291} morning, and Mr. Wilson and I happened to mention that we were engaged to dine and sleep at the seat of my friend and relation, Mr. Pringle of Torwoodlee, on our way to Edinburgh. Scott immediately said that he would send word in the morning to the Laird, that he and Adam Ferguson meant to accompany us--such being the unceremonious style in which country neighbors in Scotland visit each other. Next day, accordingly, we all rode over together to Mr.

Pringle's beautiful seat--the "distant Torwoodlee" of The Lay of the Last Minstrel, but distant not above five or six miles from Abbotsford--coursing hares as we proceeded, but inspecting the antiquities of the _Catrail_ to the interruption of our sport. We had another joyous evening at Torwoodlee. Scott and Ferguson returned home at night, and the morning after, as Wilson and I mounted for Edinburgh, our kind old host, his sides still sore with laughter, remarked that "the Sheriff and the Captain together were too much for any company."

There was much talk between the Sheriff and Mr. Pringle about the Selkirks.h.i.+re Yeomanry Cavalry, of which the latter had been the original commandant. Young Walter Scott had been for a year or more Cornet in the corps, and his father was consulting Torwoodlee about an entertainment which he meant to give them on his son's approaching birthday. It was then that the new dining-room was to be first _heated_ in good earnest; and Scott very kindly pressed Wilson and myself, at parting, to return for the occasion--which, however, we found it impossible to do. The reader must therefore be satisfied with what is said about it in one of the following letters:--

TO J. B. S. MORRITT, ESQ., M. P., ROKEBY.

ABBOTSFORD, 5th November, 1818.

MY DEAR MORRITT,--Many thanks for your kind letter of 29th October. The matter of the colts being as {p.292} you state, I shall let it lie over until next year, and then avail myself of your being in the neighborhood to get a good pair of four-year-olds, since it would be unnecessary to buy them a year younger, and incur all the risks of disease and accident, unless they could have been had at a proportional under-value.

* * * * * * leaves us this morning after a visit of about a week. He improves on acquaintance, and especially seems so pleased with everything, that it would be very hard to quarrel with him. Certainly, as the Frenchman said, _il a un grand talent pour le silence_. I take the opportunity of his servant going direct to Rokeby to charge him with this letter, and a plaid which my daughters entreat you to accept of as a token of their _warm_ good wishes. Seriously you will find it a good bosom friend in an easterly wind, a black frost, or when your country avocations lead you to face a _dry wap of snow_. I find it by far the lightest and most comfortable integument which I can use upon such occasions.

We had a grand jollification here last week;--the whole troop of Forest Yeomanry dining with us. I a.s.sure you the scene was gay and even grand, with glittering sabres, waving standards, and screaming bagpipes; and that it might not lack spectators of taste, who should arrive in the midst of the hurricane, but Lord and Lady Compton, whose presence gave a great zest to the whole affair. Everything went off very well, and as cavalry have the great advantage over infantry, that their _legs_ never get drunk, they retired in decent disorder about ten o'clock. I was glad to see Lord and Lady Compton so very comfortable, and surrounded with so fine a family, the natural bond of mutual regard and affection. She has got very jolly, but otherwise has improved on her travels. I had a long chat with her, and was happy to find her quite contented and pleased with the lot she has drawn in life. It is a brilliant one in many respects, to be sure; but still I have seen the story of the poor {p.293} woman, who, after all rational subjects of distress had been successively remedied, tormented herself about the screaming of a neighbor's peac.o.c.k--I say, I have seen this so often realized in actual life, that I am more afraid of my friends making themselves uncomfortable, who have only imaginary evils to indulge, than I am for the peace of those who, battling magnanimously with real inconvenience and danger, find a remedy in the very force of the exertions to which their lot compels them.

I sympathize with you for the _dole_ which you are _dreeing_ under the inflictions of your honest proser. Of all the boring machines ever devised, your regular and determined story-teller is the most peremptory and powerful in his operations. This is a rainy day, and my present infliction is an idle cousin, a great amateur of the pipes, who is performing incessantly in the next room for the benefit of a probationary minstrel, whose pipes scream _a la distance_, as the young hoa.r.s.e c.o.c.k-chicken imitates the gallant and triumphant screech of a veteran Sir Chanticleer. Yours affectionately,

W. SCOTT.

{p.295} APPENDIX

THE DURHAM GARLAND

IN THREE PARTS

[The following is the _Garland_ referred to at pages 4 and 26, in connection with the novel of Guy Mannering. The ballad was taken down from the recitation of Mrs. Young of Castle-Douglas, who, as her family informed Mr. Train, had long been in the habit of repeating it over to them once in the year, in order that it might not escape from her memory.]

PART I

1

A worthy Lord of birth and state, Who did in Durham live of late-- But I will not declare his name, By reason of his birth and fame.

2

This Lord he did a-hunting go; If you the truth of all would know, He had indeed a n.o.ble train, Of Lords and Knights and Gentlemen.

3

This n.o.ble Lord he left the train Of Lords and Knights and Gentlemen; And hearing not the horn to blow, He could not tell which way to go.

4

But he did wander to and fro, Being weary, likewise full of woe: At last Dame Fortune was so kind That he the Keeper's house did find.

{p.296} 5

He went and knocked at the door, He thought it was so late an hour.

The Forester did let him in, And kindly entertained him.

6

About the middle of the night, When as the stars did s.h.i.+ne most bright, This Lord was in a sad surprise, Being wakened by a fearful noise.

7

Then he did rise and call with speed, To know the reason then indeed, Of all that shrieking and those cries Which did disturb his weary eyes.

8

"I'm sorry, Sir," the Keeper said, "That you should be so much afraid; But I do hope all will be well, For my wife she is in travail."

9

The n.o.ble Lord was learned and wise, To know the Planets in the skies.

He saw one evil Planet reign, He called the Forester again.

10