About three miles from Melrose, on the right bank of the Tweed, stands
Abbotsford, a name most dear to readers of the Waverley novels. There
the “Wizard of the North,” as he was called, wrote his way into fame
and fortune; there he lived when his fortune was swept away with that
of his publisher; and there in his old age he settled himself grimly to
repay debts amounting to six hundred thousand dollars--all by the work
of his pen. He finished this stupendous task in about six years. He
discharged his debts honorably; but he gave his lifeblood to the task.
Scarcely had he come clear of his debts when his pen fell from his
hand, and, in the bright, sunny dining room of Abbotsford, he dropped
wearily to sleep, with the waters of his beloved Tweed murmuring
musically in his ears. He had kept faith with his creditors; he had
paid the last penny; he had secured his home for his children--and his
work was done.
[Illustration: DRYBURGH ABBEY
_Showing the location of Sir Walter Scott’s tomb._]
Attended by a funeral procession more than a mile in length, including
the great that came from distant parts to do him honor, and the humble
peasant neighbors that knew and loved him, Sir Walter Scott’s body was
borne reverently to Dryburgh Abbey, and in that beautiful ruin, a most
appropriate spot, he now lies at rest.