CHAPTER XLV

Gradual Reestablishment of Scott's Health. -- Ivanhoe in

Progress. -- His Son Walter Joins the Eighteenth Regiment of

Hussars. -- Scott's Correspondence with Hhis Son. --

Miscellaneous Letters to Mrs. Maclean Clephane, M. W. Hartstonge,

J. G. Lockhart, John Ballantyne, John Richardson, Miss Edgeworth,

Lord Montagu, Etc. -- Abbotsford Visited by Prince Leopold of

Saxe-Coburg. -- Death of Mrs. William Erskine.

1819

Before Scott left Edinburgh, on the 12th of July, he had not only

concluded his bargain with Constable for another novel, but, as will

appear from some of his letters, made considerable progress in the

dictation of Ivanhoe.

That he already felt great confidence on the score of his health may

be inferred from his allowing his son, Walter, about the middle of the

month, to join the 18th regiment of Hussars in which he had, shortly

before, received his commission as Cornet.

Scott's letters to his son, the first of his family that left the

house, will merit henceforth a good deal of the reader's attention.

Walter was, when he thus quitted Abbotsford to try his chances in the

active world, only in the eighteenth year of his age; and the fashion

of education in Scotland is such, that he had scarcely ever slept a

night under a different roof from his parents, until this separation

occurred. He had been treated from his cradle with all the indulgence

that a man of sense can ever permit himself to show to any of his

children; and for several years he had now been his father's daily

companion in all his out-of-doors occupations and amusements. The

parting was a painful one; but Scott's ambition centred in the heir of

his name, and instead of fruitless pinings and lamentings, he

henceforth made it his constant business to keep up such a frank

correspondence with the young man as might enable himself to exert

over him, when at a distance, the gentle influence of kindness,

experience, and wisdom. The series of his letters to his son is, in my

opinion, by far the most interesting and valuable, as respects the

personal character and temper of the writer. It will easily be

supposed that, as the young officer entered fully into his father's

generous views of what their correspondence ought to be, and detailed

every little incident of his new career with the same easy confidence

as if he had been writing to a friend or elder brother not very widely

differing from himself in standing, the answers abound with opinions

on subjects with which I have no right to occupy or entertain my

readers: but I shall introduce in the prosecution of this work, as

many specimens of Scott's paternal advice as I can hope to render

generally intelligible without indelicate explanations--and more

especially such as may prove serviceable to other young persons when

first embarking under their own pilotage upon the sea of life. Scott's

manly kindness to his boy, whether he is expressing approbation or

censure of his conduct, can require no pointing out; and his practical

wisdom was of that liberal order, based on such comprehensive views of

man and the world, that I am persuaded it will often be found

available to the circumstances of their own various cases, by young

men of whatever station or profession.

I shall, nevertheless, adhere as usual to the chronological order; and

one or two miscellaneous letters must accordingly precede the first

article of his correspondence with the Cornet. He alludes, however, to

the youth's departure in the following:--

TO MRS. MACLEAN CLEPHANE OF TORLOISK.

ABBOTSFORD, July 15, 1819.

DEAR MRS. CLEPHANE,--Nothing could give me more pleasure than to

hear you are well, and thinking of looking this way. You will

find all my things in very different order from when you were

here last, and plenty of room for matron and miss, man and maid.

We have no engagements, except to Newton Don about the 20th

August--if we be alive--no unreasonable proviso in so long an

engagement. My health, however, seems in a fair way of being

perfectly restored. It is a joke to talk of any other remedy than

that forceful but most unpleasant one--_calomel_. I cannot say I

ever felt advantage from anything else; and I am perfectly

satisfied that, used as an alterative, and taken in very small

quantities for a long time, it must correct all the inaccuracies

of the biliary organs. At least it has done so in my case more

radically than I could have believed possible. I have intermitted

the regime for some days, but begin a new course next week for

precaution. Dr. Dick, of the East India Company's service, has

put me on this course of cure,[47] and says he never knew it fail

unless when the liver was irreparably injured. I believe I shall

go to Carlsbad next year. If I must go to a watering-place, I

should like one where I might hope to see and learn something new

myself, instead of being hunted down by some of the confounded

lion-catchers who haunt English spas. I have not the art of being

savage to those people, though few are more annoyed by them. I

always think of Snug the Joiner--

"----If I should as lion _come in strife_

Into such place, 't were pity on my life."

I have been delayed in answering your kind letter by Walter's

departure from us to join his regiment, the 18th Dragoons. He has

chosen a profession for which he is well suited, being of a calm

but remarkably firm temper--fond of mathematics, engineering, and

all sorts of calculation--clear-headed, and good-natured. When

you add to this a good person and good manners, with great

dexterity in horsemanship and all athletic exercises, and a

strong constitution, one hopes you have the grounds of a good

soldier. My own selfish wish would have been that he should have

followed the law; but he really had no vocation that way, wanting

the acuteness and liveliness of intellect indispensable to making

a figure in that profession. So I am satisfied all is for the

best, only I shall miss my gamekeeper and companion in my rides

and walks. But so it was, is, and must be--the young must part

from the nest, and learn to wing their own way against the storm.

I beg my best and kindest compliments to Lady Compton. Stooping

to write hurts me, or I would have sent her a few lines. As I

shall be stationary here for all this season, I shall not see

her, perhaps, for long enough. Mrs. Scott and the girls join in

best love, and I am ever, dear Mrs. Clephane, your faithful and

most obedient servant,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 47: [An interesting letter from Dr. Dick to Scott will be

found in _Familiar Letters_ (vol. ii. p. 53), in which he speaks of

their common friend, Leyden, and expresses sorrow at the tone

regarding him taken by some of the Edinburgh periodicals, which

ridiculed the idea of comparing him with Sir William Jones as a

linguist. The writer, who knew both, shows Leyden to have been in this

respect much the greater of the two. The Doctor makes light of his

efficient services in Scott's case, and says: "I have only to offer my

grateful thanks for your intended present, which, however, I must beg

leave to decline, because I am rewarded already a thousandfold, by

being allowed the honor of prescribing for you, and by being assured,

under your own hand, that you are so well.... But if you will send me

one volume of any kind, and write on it that it is from yourself, I

shall consider it a great favor. I have the vanity to wish that my son

and his descendants may have it to show as a proof that I was honored

with the friendship of the author."]]

I have had some hesitation about introducing the next letter--which

refers to the then recent publication of a sort of mock-tour in

Scotland, entitled Peter's Letters to his Kinsfolk. Nobody but a very

young and a very thoughtless person could have dreamt of putting forth

such a book; yet the Epistles of the imaginary Dr. Morris have been so

often denounced as a mere string of libels, that I think it fair to

show how much more leniently Scott judged of them at the time.

Moreover, his letter is a good specimen of the liberal courtesy with

which, on all occasions, he treated the humblest aspirants in

literature. Since I have alluded to Peter's Letters at all, I may as

well take the opportunity of adding that they were not wholly the work

of one hand.[48]

[Footnote 48: [The other hand is supposed to have been Wilson's. It is

difficult for any reader of to-day to understand why these clever and

interesting sketches of the men and manners of the Edinburgh of 1819

should have been so emphatically denounced in certain quarters. This

is not the first occasion on which Scott sent words of praise

concerning the _Letters_, which first appeared in part in _Blackwood's

Magazine_. He says of the Pleaders' portraits [John Clerk, Cranstoun,

and Jeffrey], they "are about the best I ever read, and will preserve

these three very remarkable and original men, for all of whom, however

differing in points whereon I wish we had agreed, I entertain not only

deep respect, but sincere friendship and regard."--_Familiar Letters_,

vol. ii. p. 39.]]

TO J. G. LOCKHART, ESQ., CARNBROE HOUSE, HOLLYTOWN.

ABBOTSFORD, July 19, 1819.

MY DEAR SIR,--_Distinguendum est._ When I receive a book _ex

dono_ of the author, in the general case I offer my thanks with

all haste before I cut a leaf, lest peradventure I should feel

more awkward in doing so afterwards, when they must not only be

tendered for the well-printed volumes themselves, and the

attention which sent them my way, but moreover for the supposed

pleasure I have received from the contents. But with respect to

the learned Dr. Morris, the case is totally different, and I

formed the immediate resolution not to say a word about that

gentleman's labors without having read them at least twice

over--a pleasant task, which has been interrupted partly by my

being obliged to go down the country, partly by an invasion of

the Southron, in the persons of Sir John Shelley, famous on the

turf, and his lady. I wish Dr. Morris had been of the party,

chiefly for the benefit of a little Newmarket man, called

Cousins, whose whole ideas, similes, illustrations, etc., were

derived from the course and training stable. He was perfectly

good-humored, and I have not laughed more this many a day.

I think the Doctor has got over his ground admirably;--only the

general turn of the book is perhaps too favorable, both to the

state of our public society, and of individual character:--

"His fools have their follies so lost in a crowd

Of virtues and feelings, that folly grows proud."[49]

But it was, in every point of view, right to take this more

favorable tone, and to throw a Claude Lorraine tint over our

northern landscape. We cannot bear the actual bare truth, either

in conversation, or that which approaches nearest to

conversation, in a work like the Doctor's, published within the

circle to which it refers.

For the rest, the Doctor has fully maintained his high character

for force of expression, both serious and comic, and for

acuteness of observation--_rem acu tetigit_--and his scalpel has

not been idle, though his lenient hand has cut sharp and clean,

and poured balm into the wound. What an acquisition it would have

been to our general information to have had such a work written,

I do not say fifty, but even five-and-twenty years ago; and how

much of grave and gay might then have been preserved, as it were,

in amber, which have now mouldered away. When I think that at an

age not much younger than yours I knew Black, Ferguson,

Robertson, Erskine, Adam Smith, John Home, etc., etc., and at

least saw Burns, I can appreciate better than any one the value

of a work which, like this, would have handed them down to

posterity in their living colors. Dr. Morris ought, like

Nourjahad, to revive every half century, to record the fleeting

manners of the age, and the interesting features of those who

will be only known to posterity by their works. If I am very

partial to the Doctor, which I am not inclined to deny, remember

I have been bribed by his kind and delicate account of his visit

to Abbotsford. Like old Cumberland, or like my own gray cat, I

will e'en purr and put up my back, and enjoy his kind flattery,

even when I know it goes beyond my merits.

I wish you would come and spend a few days here, while this

delightful weather lasts. I am now so well as quite to enjoy the

society of my friends, instead of the woeful pickle in which I

was in spring, when you last favored me. It was, however, _dignus

vindice nodus_, for no less a deity descended to my aid than the

potent Mercury himself, in the shape of calomel, which I have

been obliged to take daily, though in small quantities, for these

two months past. Notwithstanding the inconveniences of this

remedy, I thrive upon it most marvellously, having recovered both

sleep and appetite; so when you incline to come this way, you

will find me looking pretty _bobbishly_. Yours very truly,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 49: Goldsmith's _Retaliation_.]

On the same day, Scott wrote as follows to John Ballantyne, who had

started for London, on his route to Paris in quest of articles for

next winter's auction-room--and whose good offices he was anxious to

engage on behalf of the Cornet, in case they should happen to be in

the metropolis at the same time:--

TO MR. JOHN BALLANTYNE, CARE OF MESSRS. LONGMAN & CO., LONDON.

ABBOTSFORD, July 19, 1819.

DEAR JOHN,--I have only to say, respecting matters here, that

they are all going on quietly. The first volume is very nearly

finished, and the whole will be out in the first or second week

of September. It will be well if you can report yourself in

Britain by that time at farthest, as something must be done on

the back of this same Ivanhoe.

Walter left us on Wednesday night, and will be in town by the

time this reaches you, looking, I fancy, very like a cow in a

fremd loaning.[50] He will be heard of at Miss Dumergue's. Pray

look after him, and help him about his purchases.

I hope you will be so successful in your foreign journey as to

diddle the Edinburgh folk out of some cash this winter. But don't

forget September, if you wish to partake the advantages thereof.

I wish you would see what good reprints of old books are come out

this year at Triphook's, and send me a note of them.--Yours very

truly,

W. SCOTT.

[Footnote 50: _Anglice_--a strange pasture.]

John Ballantyne found the Cornet in London, and did for him what his

father had requested.

TO MR. JOHN BALLANTYNE.

ABBOTSFORD, July 26, 1819.

DEAR JOHN,--I have yours with the news of Walter's rattle-traps,

which are abominably extravagant. But there is no help for it but

submission. The things seem all such as cannot well be wanted.

How the devil they mount them to such a price, the tailors best

know. They say it takes _nine_ tailors to make a man--apparently,

one is sufficient to ruin him. We shall rub through here well

enough, though James is rather glumpy and dumpy--chiefly, I

believe, because his child is unwell. If you can make any more

money for me in London, good and well. I have no spare cash till

Ivanhoe comes forth. Yours truly,

W. SCOTT.

P. S.--Enclosed are sundry letters of introduction for the

_ci-devant_ Laird of Gilnockie.

TO MISS EDGEWORTH OF EDGEWORTHSTOWN.

ABBOTSFORD, July 21, 1819.

MY DEAR MISS EDGEWORTH,--When this shall happen to reach your

hands, it will be accompanied by a second edition of Walter

Scott, a _tall_ copy, as collectors say, and bound in Turkey

leather, garnished with all sorts of fur and frippery--not quite

so well _lettered_, however, as the old and vamped original

edition. In other and more intelligible phrase, the tall Cornet

of Hussars, whom this will introduce to you, is my eldest son,

who is now just leaving me to join his regiment in Ireland. I

have charged him, and he is himself sufficiently anxious, to

avoid no opportunity of making your acquaintance, as to be known

to the good and the wise is by far the best privilege he can

derive from my connection with literature. I have always felt the

value of having access to persons of talent and genius to be the

best part of a literary man's prerogative, and you will not

wonder, I am sure, that I should be desirous this youngster

should have a share of the same benefit.

I have had dreadful bad health for many months past, and have

endured more pain than I thought was consistent with life. But

the thread, though frail in some respects, is tough in others;

and here am I with renewed health, and a fair prospect of

regaining my strength, much exhausted by such a train of

suffering.

I do not know when this will reach you, my son's motions being

uncertain. But, find you where or when it will, it comes, dear

Miss Edgeworth, from the sincere admirer of your genius, and of

the patriotic and excellent manner in which it has always been

exerted. In which character I subscribe myself ever yours truly,

WALTER SCOTT.

I believe, at the time when the foregoing letter was written, Scott

and Miss Edgeworth had never met. The next was addressed to a

gentleman whose acquaintance the poet had formed when collecting

materials for his edition of Swift. On that occasion Mr. Hartstonge

was of great service to Scott--and he appears to have paid him soon

afterwards a visit at Abbotsford. Mr. Hartstonge was an amiable and

kind-hearted man, and enthusiastically devoted to literature; but his

own poetical talents were undoubtedly of the sort that finds little

favor either with gods or columns. He seems to have written shortly

before this time to inquire about his old acquaintance's health.

TO MATTHEW WELD HARTSTONGE, ESQ., MOLESWORTH STREET, DUBLIN.

ABBOTSFORD, July 21, 1819.

MY DEAR SIR,--... Fortunately at present my system is pretty

strong. In the mean while my family are beginning to get

forwards. Walter (you remember my wading into Cauldshiels Loch to

save his little frigate from wreck) is now a Cornet of six feet

two inches in your Irish 18th Hussars; the regiment is now at

Cork, and will probably be next removed to Dublin, so you will

see your old friend with a new face; be-furred, be-feathered, and

be-whiskered in the highest military _ton_. I have desired him to

call upon you, should he get to Dublin on leave, or come there

upon duty. I miss him here very much, for he was my companion,

gamekeeper, etc., etc., and when one loses one's own health and

strength, there are few things so pleasant as to see a son

enjoying both in the vigor of hope and promise. Think of this, my

good friend, and as you have kind affections to make some good

girl happy, settle yourself in life while you are young, and lay

up, by so doing, a stock of domestic happiness, against age or

bodily decay. There are many good things in life, whatever

satirists and misanthropes may say to the contrary; but probably

the best of all, next to a conscience void of offence (without

which, by the bye, they can hardly exist), are the quiet exercise

and enjoyment of the social feelings, in which we are at once

happy ourselves, and the cause of happiness to them who are

dearest to us.

I have no news to send you from hence. The addition to my house

is completed with battlement and bartisan, but the old cottage

remains hidden among creepers, until I shall have leisure--_i.

e._, time and money--to build the rest of my mansion--which I

will not do hastily, as the present is amply sufficient for

accommodation. Adieu, my dear sir; never reckon the degree of my

regard by the regularity of my correspondence, for besides the

vile diseases of laziness and procrastination, which have always

beset me, I have had of late both pain and languor sufficient to

justify my silence. Believe me, however, always most truly yours,

WALTER SCOTT.

The first letter the young Cornet received from his father after

mounting his "rattle-traps" was the following:--

TO CORNET WALTER SCOTT, 18TH HUSSARS, CORK.

ABBOTSFORD, August 1, 1819.

DEAR WALTER,--I was glad to find you got safe to the hospitable

quarters of Piccadilly, and were put on the way of achieving your

business well and expeditiously. You would receive a packet of

introductory letters by John Ballantyne, to whom I addressed

them.

I had a very kind letter two days ago from your Colonel.[51] Had

I got it sooner it would have saved some expense in London, but

there is no help for it now. As you are very fully provided with

all these appointments, you must be particular in taking care of

them, otherwise the expense of replacing them will be a great

burden. Colonel Murray seems disposed to show you much attention.

He is, I am told, rather a reserved man, which indeed is the

manner of his family. You will, therefore, be the more attentive

to what he says, as well as to answer all advances he may make to

you with cordiality and frankness; for if you be shy on the one

hand, and he reserved on the other, you cannot have the benefit

of his advice, which I hope and wish you may gain. I shall be

guided by his opinion respecting your allowance: he stipulates

that you shall have only two horses (not to be changed without

his consent), and on no account keep a gig. You know of old how I

detest that mania of driving wheel-barrows up and down, when a

man has a handsome horse, and can ride him. They are both foolish

and expensive things, and, in my opinion, are only fit for

English bagmen--therefore gig it not, I pray you.

In buying your horses you will be very cautious. I see Colonel

Murray has delicacy about assisting you directly in the

matter--for he says very truly that some gentlemen make a sort of

traffic in horse-flesh--from which his duty and inclination

equally lead him to steer clear. But he will take care that you

don't buy any that are unfit for service, as in the common course

they must be approved by the commandant as _chargers_. Besides

which, he will probably give you some private hints, of which

avail yourself, as there is every chance of your needing much

advice in this business. Two things I preach on my own

experience: _1st_, Never to buy an aged horse, however showy. He

must have done work, and, at any rate, will be unserviceable in a

few years. _2dly_, To buy rather when the horse is something low

in condition, that you may the better see all his points. Six

years is the oldest at which I would purchase. You will run risk

of being jockeyed by knowing gentlemen of your own corps parting

with their _experienced_ chargers to _oblige_ you. Take care of

this. Any good-tempered horse learns the dragoon duty in

wonderfully short time, and you are rider enough not to want one

quite broke in. Look well about you, and out into the country.

Excellent horses are bred all through Munster, and better have a

clever young one than an old regimental brute foundered by

repeated charges and bolts. If you see a brother-officer's horse

that pleases you much, and seems reasonable, look particularly

how he stands on his forelegs, and for that purpose see him in

the stable. If he shifts and shakes a little, have nothing to say

to him. This is the best I can advise, not doubting you will be

handsomely excised after all. The officer who leaves his corps

may be disposing of good horses, and perhaps selling reasonable.

One who continues will not, at least should not, part with a good

horse without some great advantage.

You will remain at Cork till you have learned your regimental

duty, and then probably be despatched to some outquarter. I need

not say how anxious I am that you should keep up your languages,

mathematics, and other studies. To have lost that which you

already in some degree possess--and that which we don't practise

we soon forget--would be a subject of unceasing regret to you

hereafter. You have good introductions, and don't neglect to

avail yourself of them. Something in this respect your name may

do for you--a fair advantage, if used with discretion and

propriety. By the way, I suspect you did not call on John

Richardson.

The girls were very dull after you left us; indeed the night you

went away, Anne had hysterics, which lasted some time. Charles

also was down in the mouth, and papa and mamma a little grave and

dejected. I would not have you think yourself of too great

importance neither, for the greatest personages are not always

long missed, and to make a bit of a parody,--

"Down falls the rain, up gets the sun,

Just as if Walter were not gone."

We comfort ourselves with the hopes that you are to be happy in

the occupation you have chosen, and in your new society. Let me

know if there are any well-informed men among them, though I

don't expect you to find out that for some time. Be civil to all,

till you can by degrees find out who are really best deserving.

I enclose a letter from Sophia, which doubtless contains all the

news. St. Boswell's Fair rained miserably, and disappointed the

misses. The weather has since been delightful, and harvest

advances fast. All here goes its old round--the habits of age do

not greatly change, though those of youth do. Mamma has been

quite well, and so have I--but I still take calomel. I was

obliged to drink some claret with Sir A. Don, Sir John Shelley,

and a funny little Newmarket quizzy, called Cousins, whom they

brought here with them the other day, but I was not the worse. I

wish you had Sir J. S. at your elbow when you are buying your

horses--he is a very knowing man on the turf. I like his lady

very much. She is perfectly feminine in her manners, has good

sense, and plays divinely on the harp; besides all which, she

shoots wild boars, and is the boldest horsewoman I ever saw. I

saw her at Paris ride like a lapwing, in the midst of all the

aide-de-camps and suite of the Duke of Wellington.

Write what your horses come to, etc. Your outfit will be an

expensive matter; but once settled, it will be fairly launching

you into life in the way you wished, and I trust you will see the

necessity of prudence and a gentlemanlike economy, which consists

chiefly in refusing one's self trifling indulgences until we can

easily pay for them. Once more, I beg you to be attentive to

Colonel Murray and to his lady. I hear of a disease among the

moorfowl. I suppose they are dying for grief at your departure.

Ever, my dear boy, your affectionate father,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 51: The then commandant of the 18th Hussars was

Lieutenant-Colonel the Hon. Henry Murray, brother to the Earl of

Mansfield.]

TO THE SAME.

7th August, 1819.

DEAR WALTER,--... I shall be curious to know how you like your

brother-officers, and how you dispose of your time. The drills

and riding-school will, of course, occupy much of your mornings

for some time. I trust, however, you will keep in view drawing,

languages, etc. It is astonishing how far even half an hour a day

regularly bestowed on one object, will carry a man in making

himself master of it. The habit of dawdling away time is easily

acquired, and so is that of putting every moment either to use or

to amusement.

You will not be hasty in forming intimacies with any of your

brother-officers, until you observe which of them are most

generally respected, and likely to prove most creditable friends.

It is seldom that the people who put themselves hastily forward

to please are those most worthy of being known. At the same time

you will take care to return all civility which is offered, with

readiness and frankness. The Italians have a proverb, which I

hope you have not forgot poor Pierrotti's lessons so far as not

to comprehend, "_Volto sciolto e pensieri stretti_." There is no

occasion to let any one see what you exactly think of him; and it

is the less prudent, as you will find reason, in all probability,

to change your opinion more than once.

I shall be glad to hear of your being fitted with a good servant.

Most of the Irish of that class are scapegraces--drink, steal,

and lie like the devil. If you could pick up a canny Scot, it

would be well. Let me know about your mess. To drink hard is none

of your habits; but even drinking what is called a certain

quantity every day, hurts the stomach, and by hereditary descent

yours is delicate. I believe the poor Duke of Buccleuch laid the

foundation of that disease which occasioned his premature death

in the excesses of Villars's regiment; and I am sorry and

ashamed to say, for your warning, that the habit of drinking

wine, so much practised when I was a young man, occasioned, I am

convinced, many of my cruel stomach complaints. You had better

drink a bottle of wine on any particular occasion, than sit and

soak and sipple at an English pint every day.

All our bipeds are well. Hamlet had an inflammatory attack, and I

began to think he was going mad, after the example of his great

namesake, but Willie Laidlaw bled him, and he has recovered.

Pussy is very well. Mamma, the girls, and Charlie, join in love.

Yours affectionately,

W. S.

P. S.--Always mention what letters of mine you have received, and

write to me whatever comes into your head. It is the privilege of

great boys when distant that they cannot tire papas by any length

of detail upon any subject.

TO THE SAME.

ABBOTSFORD, 13th August, 1819.

MY DEAREST WALTER,--I am very much obliged to Colonel Murray for

the trouble he has taken on your behalf. I hope he has received

the letter which I wrote to him a fortnight since under Mr.

Freeling's cover. It enclosed a parcel of letters to you. I took

the liberty of asking his advice what allowance you should have

to assist you. You know pretty well my circumstances and your

own, and that I wish you to be comfortable, but not in any

respect extravagant; and this for your own sake, and not for that

of money, which I never valued very much, perhaps not so much as

I ought to have done. I think by speaking to Colonel Murray you

may get at his opinion, and I have so much trust in your honor

and affection as to confide in your naming your own allowance.

Meantime, lest the horse should starve while the grass grows, I

enclose a cheque upon Messrs. Coutts for L50, to accompt of your

first year's allowance. Your paymaster will give you the money

for it I dare say. You have to endorse the bill, _i. e._, write

your name on the back of it.

All concerned are pleased with your kind tokens of remembrance

from London. Mamma and I like the caricatures very much. I think,

however, scarce any of them shows the fancy and talent of old

Gilray: he became insane, I suppose by racking his brain in

search of extravagant ideas, and was supported in his helpless

condition by the woman who keeps the great print-shop in St.

James's Street, who had the generosity to remember that she had

made thousands by his labor.

Everything here goes on in the old fashion, and we are all as

well as possible, saving that Charles rode to Lawrence fair

yesterday in a private excursion, and made himself sick with

eating gingerbread, whereby he came to disgrace.

Sophia has your letter of the 4th, which she received yesterday.

The enclosed will help you to set up shop and to get and pay

whatever is necessary. I wish we had a touch of your hand to make

the parties rise in the morning, at which they show as little

alertness as usual.

I beg you will keep an account of money received and paid. Buy a

little book ruled for the purpose, for pounds, shillings, and

pence, and keep an account of cash received and expended. The

balance ought to be cash in purse, if the book is regularly kept.

But any very small expenses you can enter as "Sundries, L0: 3:

6," which saves trouble.

You will find this most satisfactory and useful. But, indeed,

arithmetic is indispensable to a soldier who means to rise in his

profession. All military movements depend upon calculation of

time, numbers, and distance.

Dogs all well--cat sick--supposed with eating birds in their

feathers. Sisters, brother, and mamma join in love to the "poor

wounded hussa-a-r;"--I dare say you have heard the song; if not,

we shall send it for the benefit of the mess. Yours

affectionately,

WALTER SCOTT.

P. S.--Yesterday, _the 12th_, would, I suppose, produce some

longings after the Peel heights.

In the following letter to Mr. Richardson, we see Scott busied about

certain little matters of heraldic importance which had to be settled

before his patent of baronetcy could be properly made out. He also

alludes to two little volumes, which he edited during this autumn--the

Memorials of the Haliburtons, a thin quarto (never published)--and the

poems of Patrick Carey, of which he had given specimens some years

before in the Annual Register.

TO JOHN RICHARDSON, ESQ., FLUDYER STREET, WESTMINSTER.

ABBOTSFORD, 22d August, 1819.

MY DEAR RICHARDSON,--I am sorry Walter did not get to your kind

domicile. But he stayed but about five or six days in London, and

great was his haste, as you may well suppose. He had a world of

trinkums to get, for you know there goes as much to the

man-millinery of a young officer of hussars as to that of an

heiress on her bridal day. His complete equipage, horses not

included, cost about L360, and if you add a couple of blood

horses, it will be L200 more, besides the price of his

commission, for the privilege of getting the hardness of his

skull tried by a brick-bat at the next meeting of Radical

Reformers. I am not much afraid of these folks, however, because

I remember 1793 and 1794, when the same ideas possessed a much

more formidable class of the people, being received by a large

proportion of farmers, shopkeepers, and others, possessed of

substance. A mere mob will always be a fire of loose straw; but

it is melancholy to think of the individual mischief that may be

done. I did not find it quite advisable to take so long a journey

as London this summer. I am quite recovered; but my last attack

was of so dreadful a nature, that I wish to be quite insured

against another--_i. e._, as much as one can be insured against

such a circumstance--before leaving home for any length of time.

To return to the vanities of this world, from what threatened to

hurry me to the next: I enclose a drawing of my arms, with the

supporters which the heralds here assign me. Our friend Harden

seems to wish I would adopt one of his Mer-maidens, otherwise

they should be both Moors, as on the left side. I have also added

an impression of my seal. You can furnish Sir George Naylor with

as much of my genealogy as will serve the present purpose. I

shall lose no time in connecting myself by a general service with

my grand-uncle, the last Haliburton of Dryburgh Abbey, or

Newmains, as they call it. I spoke to the Lyon-office people in

Edinburgh. I find my entry there will be an easy matter, the

proofs being very pregnant and accessible. I would not stop for a

trifling expense to register my pedigree in England, as far as

you think may be necessary, to show that it is a decent one. My

ancestors were brave and honest men, and I have no reason to be

ashamed of them, though they were neither wealthy nor great.

As something of an antiquary and genealogist, I should not like

there were any mistakes in this matter, so I send you a small

note of my descent by my father and my paternal grandmother, with

a memorandum of the proofs by which they may be supported, to

which I might add a whole cloud of oral witnesses. I hate the

being suspected of fishing for a pedigree, or bolstering one up

with false statements. How people can bring themselves to this, I

cannot conceive. I send you a copy of the Haliburton MS., of

which I have printed twenty for the satisfaction of a few

friends. You can have any part of them copied in London which

ought to be registered. I should like if Sir George Naylor would

take the trouble of looking at the proofs, which are chiefly

extracts from the public records. I take this opportunity to send

you also a copy of a little amateur-book--Carey's Poems--a

thoroughbred Cavalier, and, I think, no bad versifier. Kind

compliments to Mrs. Richardson. Yours, my dear Richardson, most

truly,

WALTER SCOTT.

TO CORNET W. SCOTT, 18TH HUSSARS, CORK.

ABBOTSFORD, 4th September, 1819.

DEAR WALTER,--Your very acceptable letter of the 26th reached me

to-day. I had begun to be apprehensive that the draft had fallen

into the hands of the Philistines, but the very long calm must

have made the packets slow in their progress, which I suppose was

the occasion of the delay. Respecting the allowance, Colonel

Murray informs me that from L200 to L250, in addition to the pay

of a Cornet, ought to make a young man very comfortable. He adds,

which I am much pleased to hear, that your officers are, many of

them, men of moderate fortune, and disposed to be economical. I

had thought of L200 as what would suit us both, but when I see

the account which you very properly keep, I shall be better able

to determine. It must be considered that any uncommon expense, as

the loss of a horse or the like, may occasion an extra draft over

and above the allowance. I like very much your methodical

arrangement as to expenses; it is rather a tiresome thing at

first to keep an accompt of pounds, shillings, and pence, but it

is highly necessary, and enables one to see how the money

actually goes. It is, besides, a good practical way of keeping up

acquaintance with arithmetic, and you will soon find that the

principles on which all military movements turn are arithmetical,

and that though one may no doubt learn to do them by rote, yet to

_understand_ them, you must have recourse to numbers. Your

adjutant will explain this to you. By the way, as he is a

foreigner, you will have an opportunity to keep up a little of

your French and German. Both are highly necessary to you; the

knowledge of the last, with few other qualifications, made

several officers' fortunes last war.

I observe with pleasure you are making acquaintances among the

gentry, which I hope you will not drop for want of calling, etc.

I trust you have delivered all your recommendations, for it is an

affront to omit doing so, both to the person who writes them, and

those for whom they are designed. On the other hand, one always

holds their head a little better up in the world when they keep

good society. Lord and Lady Melville are to give you

recommendations when you go to Dublin. I was at Melville Castle

for two days, and found them both well. I was also one day at

Langholm Lodge to meet Lord Montagu. Possibly, among your Irish

friends, you may get some shooting. I shall be glad you avail

yourself of any such opportunities, and also that, when you get

your own horses, you hunt in the winter, if you be within the

reach of hounds. Nothing confirms a man in horsemanship so well

as hunting, though I do not recommend it to beginners, who are

apt to learn to ride like grooms. Besides the exercise,

field-sports make a young soldier acquainted with the country,

and habituate him to have a good eye for distance and for taking

up the _carte de pays_ in general, which is essential to all, but

especially to officers of light troops, who are expected to

display both alertness and intelligence in reporting the nature

of the country, being in fact the _eyes_ of the army. In every

point of view, field-sports are preferable to the indoors

amusement of a billiard-table, which is too often the

lounging-place for idle young officers, where there is nothing to

be got but a habit of throwing away time, and an acquaintance

with the very worst society--I mean at public billiard-rooms--for

unquestionably the game itself is a pretty one, when practised

among gentlemen, and not made a constant habit of. But public

billiard-tables are almost always the resort of blacklegs and

sharpers, and all that numerous class whom the French call

_chevaliers d'industrie_, and we, _knights of the whipping-post_.

I am glad you go to the anatomical lectures. An acquaintance with

our own very extraordinary frame is a useful branch of general

knowledge, and as you have some turn for drawing, it will also

enable you to judge of the proper mode of disposing the limbs and

muscles of your figures, should you prosecute the art so far. In

fact, there is no branch of study can come much amiss to a young

man, providing he does study, and very often the precise

occupation of the time must be trusted to taste and opportunity.

The White Boys made a great noise when I was a boy. But Ireland

(the more is the pity) has never been without White Boys, or

Right Boys, or Defenders, or Peep-of-day Boys, or some wild

association or another for disturbing the peace of the country.

We shall not be many degrees better if the Radical Reformers be

not checked. The Manchester Yeomen behaved very well, upsetting

the most immense crowd ever was seen, and notwithstanding the

lies in the papers, without any unnecessary violence. Mr. Hunt

pretends to have had several blows on his head with sabres, but

has no wound to show for it. I am disposed to wish he had got

such a one as once on a day I could have treated him to. I am apt

to think his politic pate would have broached no more sedition.

Miss Rutherford and Eliza Russell are now with us. We were also

favored with a visit of the Miss ----s, who are rather empty

canisters, though I dare say very good girls. Anne tired of them

most inhospitably. Mrs. Maclean Clephane and her two unmarried

daughters are now here; being, as we say, pears of another tree.

Your sisters seem very fond of the young ladies, and I am glad of

it, for they will see that a great deal of accomplishment and

information may be completely reconciled with liveliness, fun,

good-humor, and good-breeding.

All here send love. Dogs and cat are well. I dare say you have

heard from some other correspondent that poor Lady Wallace died

of an inflammation, after two days' illness. Trout[52] has

returned here several times, poor fellow, and seems to look for

you; but Henry Scott is very kind to him, and he is a great

favorite.

As you Hussars smoke, I will give you one of my pipes, but you

must let me know how I can send it safely. It is a very handsome

one, though not my best. I will keep my _Meerschaum_ until I make

my Continental tour, and then you shall have that also. I hope

you will get leave for a few months, and go with me. Yours very

affectionately,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 52: _Lady Wallace_ was a pony; _Trout_ a favorite pointer

which the Cornet had given, at leaving home, to the young Laird of

Harden, now the Master of Polwarth.]

About this time, as the succeeding letters will show, Abbotsford had

the honor of a short visit from Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, now

King of the Belgians. Immediately afterwards Scott heard of the death

of Mrs. William Erskine, and repaired to Edinburgh to condole with his

afflicted friend.[53] His allusions, meanwhile, to views of buying

more land on Tweedside, are numerous. These speculations are explained

in a most characteristic style to the Cornet; and we see that one of

them was cut short by the tragical death of a _bonnet-laird_ already

introduced to the reader's notice--namely, _Lauchie Longlegs_, the

admired of Geoffrey Crayon.

[Footnote 53: For Scott's Epitaph for Mrs. Erskine, see his _Poetical

Works_ (Ed. 1834), vol. xi. p. 347 [Cambridge Ed. p. 447].]

TO CORNET WALTER SCOTT, 18TH HUSSARS, CORK.

ABBOTSFORD, 27th September, 1819.

MY DEAR WALTER,--Your letter of the 10th gave me the pleasant

assurance that you are well and happy, and attending to your

profession. We have been jogging on here in the old fashion,

somewhat varied by an unexpected visit, on Friday last, from no

less a person than Prince Leopold. I conclude you will have all

the particulars of this important event from the other members

of the family, so I shall only say that when I mentioned the

number of your regiment, the Prince said he had several friends

in the 18th, and should now think he had one more, which was very

polite. By the way, I hear an excellent character of your

officers for regularity and gentlemanlike manners. This report

gives me great pleasure, for to live in bad society will deprave

the best manners, and to live in good will improve the worst.

I am trying a sort of bargain with neighbor Nicol Milne at

present. He is very desirous of parting with his estate of

Faldonside, and if he will be contented with a reasonable price,

I am equally desirous to be the purchaser. I conceive it will

come to about L30,000 at least. I will not agree to give a penny

more; and I think that sum is probably L2000 and more above its

actual marketable value. But then it lies extremely convenient

for us, and would, joined to Abbotsford, make a very

gentlemanlike property, worth at least L1800 or L2000 a year. I

can command about L10,000 of my own, and if I be spared life and

health, I should not fear rubbing off the rest of the price, as

Nicol is in no hurry for payment. As you will succeed me in my

landed property, I think it right to communicate my views to you.

I am much moved by the prospect of getting at about L2000 or

L3000 worth of marle, which lies on Milne's side of the loch, but

which can only be drained on my side, so that he can make no use

of it. This would make the lands of Abbotsford worth 40_s._ an

acre over-head, excepting the sheep farm. I am sensible I might

dispose of my money to more advantage, but probably to none

which, in the long run, would be better for you--certainly to

none which would be productive of so much pleasure to myself. The

woods are thriving, and it would be easy, at a trifling expense,

to restore Faldonside loch, and stock it with fish. In fact, it

would require but a small dam-head. By means of a little

judicious planting, added to what is already there, the estate

might be rendered one of the most beautiful in this part of

Scotland. Such are my present plans, my dear boy, having as much

your future welfare and profit in view as the immediate

gratification of my own wishes.

I am very sorry to tell you that poor Mrs. William Erskine is no

more. She was sent by the medical people on a tour to the lakes

of Cumberland, and was taken ill at Lowood, on Windermere.

Nature, much exhausted by her previous indisposition, sunk under

four days' illness. Her husband was with her, and two of her

daughters--he is much to be pitied.

Mr. Rees, the bookseller, told me he had met you in the streets

of Cork, and reported well of the growth of your _Schnurr-bart_.

I hope you know what that means. Pray write often, as the post

comes so slow. I keep all your letters, and am much pleased with

the frankness of the style. No word of your horses yet? but it is

better not to be impatient, and to wait for good ones. I have

been three times on Newark, and killed six hares each time. The

two young dogs are capital good.

I must not omit to tell you our old, and, I may add, our kind

neighbor Lauchie, has departed, or, as Tom expresses it, has been

fairly _flytten out o' the warld_. You know the old quarrel

betwixt his brother and him about the wife: in an ill-fated hour

Jock the brother came down to Lochbreist with a sister from

Edinburgh, who was determined to have her share of the

scolding-match; they attacked poor old Lauchie like mad folks,

and reviled his wife in all sort of evil language. At length his

passion was wrought up to a great pitch, and he answered with

much emotion, that if she were the greatest ---- in Edinburgh, it

was not their business, and as he uttered this speech, he fell

down on his back, and lay a dead man before them. There is little

doubt the violence of the agitation had broke a blood-vessel in

the heart or brain. A very few days since he was running up and

down calling for a coffin, and wishing to God he was in one; to

which Swanston,[54] who was present, answered, he could not apply

to a better hand, and he would make him one if he had a mind. He

has left a will of his own making, but from some informality I

think it will be set aside. His land cannot come into the market

until his girl comes of age, which, by the way, makes me more

able for the other bargain.... The blackcocks are very plenty. I

put up fourteen cocks and hens in walking up the Clappercleuch to

look at the wood. Do you not wish you had been on the outside

with your gun? Tom has kept us well supplied with game; he boasts

that he shot fifteen times without a miss. I shall be glad to

hear that you do the same on Mr. Newenham's grounds. Mamma, the

girls, and Charles, all join in love and affection. Believe me

ever, dear Walter, your affectionate father,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 54: John Swanston had then the care of the sawmill at

Toftfield; he was one of Scott's most valued dependents, and in the

sequel succeeded Tom Purdie as his henchman.]

TO THE LORD MONTAGU, ETC., ETC., ETC.

ABBOTSFORD, 3d October, 1819.

MY DEAR LORD,--I am honored with your Buxton letter.... _Anent_

Prince Leopold, I only heard of his approach at eight o'clock in

the morning, and he was to be at Selkirk by eleven. The

magistrates sent to ask me to help them to receive him. It

occurred to me he might be coming to Melrose to see the Abbey, in

which case I could not avoid asking him to Abbotsford, as he must

pass my very door. I mentioned this to Mrs. Scott, who was lying

quietly in bed, and I wish you had heard the scream she gave on

the occasion. "What have we to offer him?"--"Wine and cake," said

I, thinking to make all things easy; but she ejaculated, in a

tone of utter despair, "Cake!! where am I to get cake?" However,

being partly consoled with the recollection that his visit was a

very improbable incident, and curiosity, as usual, proving too

strong for alarm, she set out with me in order not to miss a peep

of the great man. James Skene and his lady were with us, and we

gave our carriages such additional dignity as a pair of leaders

could add, and went to meet him in full puff. The Prince very

civilly told me, that, though he could not see Melrose on this

occasion, he wished to come to Abbotsford for an hour. New

despair on the part of Mrs. Scott, who began to institute a

domiciliary search for cold meat through the whole city of

Selkirk, which produced _one shoulder of cold lamb_. In the mean

while, his Royal Highness received the civic honors of the

BIRSE[55] very graciously. I had hinted to Bailie Lang,[56] that

it ought only to be licked _symbolically_ on the present

occasion; so he flourished it three times before his mouth, but

without touching it with his lips, and the Prince followed his

example as directed. Lang made an excellent speech--sensible, and

feeling, and well delivered. The Prince seemed much surprised at

this great propriety of expression and behavior in a magistrate,

whose people seemed such a rabble, and whose whole band of music

consisted in a drum and fife. He noticed to Bailie Anderson that

Selkirk seemed very populous in proportion to its extent. "On an

occasion like this it seems so," answered the Bailie,--neatly

enough, I thought. I question if any magistrates in the kingdom,

lord mayors and aldermen not excepted, could have behaved with

more decent and quiet good-breeding. Prince Leopold repeatedly

alluded to this during the time he was at Abbotsford. I do not

know how Mrs. Scott ultimately managed; but with broiled salmon,

and blackcock, and partridges, she gave him a very decent lunch;

and I chanced to have some very fine old hock, which was mighty

germane to the matter.

The Prince seems melancholy, whether naturally or from habit, I

do not pretend to say; but I do not remember thinking him so at

Paris, where I saw him frequently, then a much poorer man than

myself; yet he showed some humor, for, alluding to the crowds

that followed him everywhere, he mentioned some place where he

had gone out to shoot, but was afraid to proceed for fear of

"bagging a boy." He said he really thought of getting some

shooting-place in Scotland, and promised me a longer visit on his

return. If I had had a day's notice to have _warned the waters_,

we could have met him with a very respectable number of the

gentry; but there was no time for this, and probably he liked it

better as it was. There was only young Clifton who could have

come, and he was shy and cubbish, and would not, though requested

by the Selkirk people. He was perhaps ashamed to march through

Coventry with them. It hung often and sadly on my mind that _he_

was wanting who could and would have received him like a Prince

indeed; and yet the meeting betwixt them, had they been fated to

meet, would have been a very sad one. I think I have now given

your Lordship a very full, true, and particular account of our

royal visit, unmatched even by that of King Charles at the Castle

of Tillietudlem. That we did not speak of it for more than a week

after it happened, and that that emphatic monosyllable, _The

Prince_, is not heard amongst us more than ten times a day, is,

on the whole, to the credit of my family's understanding. The

piper is the only one whose brain he seems to have endangered;

for, as the Prince said he preferred him to any he had heard in

the Highlands--(which, by the way, shows his Royal Highness knows

nothing of the matter)--the fellow seems to have become incapable

of his ordinary occupation as a forester, and has cut stick and

stem without remorse to the tune of _Phail Phranse_, _i. e._, the

Prince's Welcome.

I am just going to the head-court with Donaldson, and go a day

sooner to exhume certain old monuments of the Rutherfords at

Jedburgh. Edgerstone[57] is to meet me at Jedburgh for this

research, and then we shall go up with him to dinner. My best

respects attend Lady Montagu. I wish this letter may reach you on

a more lively day than it is written in, for it requires little

to add to its dulness. Tweed is coming down very fast, the first

time this summer. Believe me, my dear Lord, most truly yours,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 55: See _ante_, vol. v. p. 88.]

[Footnote 56: Scott's good friend, Mr. Andrew Lang, Sheriff-Clerk for

Selkirkshire, was then chief magistrate of the county town. [He was

the grandfather of the accomplished man of letters who bears his

name.]]

[Footnote 57: The late John Rutherford of Edgerstone, long M. P. for

Roxburghshire, was a person of high worth, and universally esteemed.

Scott used to say Edgerstone was his _beau ideal_ of the character of

a country gentleman. He was, I believe, the head of the once great and

powerful clan of Rutherford.]

TO W. SCOTT, ESQ., 18TH HUSSARS, CORK.

ABBOTSFORD, 14th October, 1819.

DEAR WALTER,--I had your last letter, and am very glad you find

pleasant society. Mrs. Dundas of Arniston is so good as to send

you some introductions, which you will deliver as soon as

possible. You will be now in some degree accustomed to meet with

strangers, and to form your estimate of their character and

manners. I hope, in the mean time, the French and German are

attended to; please to mention in your next letter what you are

reading, and in what languages. The hours of youth, my dear

Walter, are too precious to be spent all in gayety. We must lay

up in that period when our spirit is active, and our memory

strong, the stores of information which are not only to

facilitate our progress through life, but to amuse and interest

us in our later stage of existence. I very often think what an

unhappy person I should have been, if I had not done something

more or less towards improving my understanding when I was at

your age; and I never reflect, without severe self-condemnation,

on the opportunities of acquiring knowledge which I either

trifled with, or altogether neglected. I hope you will be wiser

than I have been, and experience less of that self-reproach.

My last acquainted you with Mrs. Erskine's death, and I grieve to

say we have just received intelligence that our kind neighbor and

good friend Lord Somerville is at the very last gasp. His disease

is a dysentery, and the symptoms, as his brother writes to Mr.

Samuel Somerville, are mortal. He is at Vevay, upon his road, I

suppose, to Italy, where he had purposed spending the winter. His

death, for I understand nothing else can be expected, will be

another severe loss to me; for he was a kind, good friend, and at

my time of day men do not readily take to new associates. I must

own this has been one of the most melancholy years I ever passed.

The poor Duke, who loved me so well--Mrs. Erskine--Lord

Somerville--not to mention others with whom I was less intimate,

make it one year of mourning. I should not forget the Chief

Baron, who, though from ill health we met of late seldom, was

always my dear friend, and indeed very early benefactor. I must

look forwards to seeing in your success and respectability, and

in the affection and active improvement of all of you, those

pleasures which are narrowed by the death of my contemporaries.

Men cannot form new intimacies at my period of life, but must be

happy or otherwise according to the good fortune and good conduct

of those near relatives who rise around them.

I wish much to know if you are lucky in a servant. Trust him with

as little cash as possible, and keep short accounts. Many a good

servant is spoiled by neglecting this simple precaution. The man

is tempted to some expense of his own, gives way to it, and then

has to make it up by a system of overcharge and peculation; and

thus mischief begins, and the carelessness of the master makes a

rogue out of an honest lad, and cheats himself into the bargain.

I have a letter from your uncle Tom, telling me his eldest

daughter is to be forthwith married to a Captain Huxley of his

own regiment. As he has had a full opportunity of being

acquainted with the young gentleman, and approves of the match, I

have to hope that it will be a happy one. I fear there is no

great fortune in the case on either side, which is to be

regretted.

Of domestic affairs I have little to tell you. The harvest has

been excellent, the weather delightful; but this I must often

have repeated. To-day I was thinning out fir-trees in the

thicket, and the men were quite exhausted with the heat, and I

myself, though only marking the trees, felt the exercise

sufficiently warm. The wood is thriving delightfully. On the 28th

we are to have a dance in honor of your birthday. I wish you

could look in upon us for the day at least--only I am afraid we

could not part with you when it was over, and so you would be in

the guise of Cinderella, when she outstayed her time at the ball,

and all her finery returned into its original base materials.

Talking of balls, the girls would tell you the Melrose hop, where

mamma presided, went off well.

I expect poor Erskine and his daughter next week, or the week

after. I went into town to see him--and found him bearing his

great loss with his natural gentleness and patience. But he was

sufficiently distressed, as he has great reason to be. I also

expect Lord and Lady Melville here very soon. Sir William Rae

(now Lord Advocate) and his lady came to us on Saturday. On

Sunday Maida walked with us, and in jumping the paling at the

Greentongue park contrived to hang himself up by the hind leg. He

howled at first, but seeing us making towards him he stopped

crying, and waved his tail, by way of signal, it was supposed,

for assistance. He sustained no material injury, though his leg

was strangely twisted into the bars, and he was nearly hanging

by it. He showed great gratitude, in his way, to his deliverers.

This is a long letter, and little in it; but that is nothing

extraordinary. All send best love--and I am ever, dear Walter,

your affectionate father,

WALTER SCOTT.

TO THOMAS SCOTT, ESQ., PAYMASTER, 70th REGIMENT, CANADA.

ABBOTSFORD, 16th October, 1819.

DEAR TOM,--I received yesterday your very acceptable letter,

containing the news of Jessie's approaching marriage, in which,

as a match agreeable to her mother and you, and relieving your

minds from some of the anxious prospects which haunt those of

parents, I take the most sincere interest. Before this reaches

you the event will probably have taken place. Meantime, I enclose

a letter to the bride or wife, as the case may happen to be. I

have sent a small token of good-will to ballast my good wishes,

which you will please to value for the young lady, that she may

employ it as most convenient or agreeable to her. A little more

fortune would perhaps have done the young folks no harm; but

Captain Huxley, being such as you describe him, will have every

chance of getting forward in his profession; and the happiest

marriages are often those in which there is, at first, occasion

for prudence and economy. I do certainly feel a little of the

surprise which you hint at, for time flies over our heads one

scarce marks how, and children become marriageable ere we

consider them as out of the nursery. My eldest son, Walter, has

also wedded himself--but it is to a regiment of hussars. He is at

present a cornet in the 18th, and quartered in Cork barracks. He

is capital at most exercises, but particularly as a horseman. I

do not intend he shall remain in the cavalry, however, but shall

get him into the line when he is capable of promotion. Since he

has chosen this profession, I shall be desirous that he follows

it out in good earnest, and that can only be done by getting into

the infantry.

My late severe illness has prevented my going up to London to

receive the honor which the Prince Regent has announced his

intention to inflict upon me. My present intention is, if I

continue as well as I have been, to go up about Christmas to get

this affair over. My health was restored (I trust permanently) by

the use of calomel, a very severe and painful remedy, especially

in my exhausted state of body, but it has proved a radical one.

By the way, _Radical_ is a word in very bad odor here, being used

to denote a set of blackguards a hundred times more mischievous

and absurd than our old friends in 1794 and 1795. You will learn

enough of the doings of the _Radical Reformers_ from the papers.

In Scotland we are quiet enough, excepting in the manufacturing

districts, and we are in very good hands, as Sir William Rae, our

old commander, is Lord Advocate. Rae has been here two or three

days, and left me yesterday; he is the old man, sensible,

cool-headed, and firm, always thinking of his duty, never of

himself. He inquired kindly after you, and I think will be

disposed to serve you, should an opportunity offer. Poor William

Erskine has lost his excellent wife, after a long and wasting

illness. She died at Lowood on Windermere, he having been

recommended to take her upon a tour about three weeks before her

death. I own I should scarce forgive a physician who should

contrive to give me this addition to family distress. I went to

town last week to see him, and found him, upon the whole, much

better than I expected. I saw my mother on the same occasion,

admirably well indeed. She is greatly better than this time two

years, when she rather quacked herself a little too much. I have

sent your letter to our mother, and will not fail to transmit to

our other friends the agreeable news of your daughter's

settlement. Our cousin, Sir Harry Macdougal, is marrying his

eldest daughter to Sir Thomas Brisbane, a very good match on

both sides. I have been paying a visit on the occasion, which

suspends my closing this letter. I hope to hear very soon from

you. Respecting our silence, I, like a ghost, only waited to be

spoken to, and you may depend on me as a regular correspondent,

when you find time to be one yourself. Charlotte and the girls

join in kind love to Mrs. Scott and all the family. I should like

to know what you mean to do with young Walter, and whether I can

assist you in that matter. Believe me, dear Tom, ever your

affectionate brother,

W. SCOTT.

TO DANIEL TERRY, ESQ., LONDON.

ABBOTSFORD, November 10, 1819.

MY DEAR TERRY,--I should be very sorry if you thought the

interest I take in you and yours so slight as not to render your

last letter extremely interesting. We have all our various

combats to fight in this best of all possible worlds, and, like

brave fellow-soldiers, ought to assist one another as much as

possible. I have little doubt, that if God spares me till my

little namesake be fit to take up his share of the burden, I may

have interest enough to be of great advantage to him in the

entrance of life. In the present state of your own profession,

you would not willingly, I suppose, choose him to follow it; and,

as it is very seductive to young people of a lively temper and

good taste for the art, you should, I think, consider early how

you mean to dispose of little Walter, with a view, that is, to

the future line of life which you would wish him to adopt. Mrs.

Terry has not the good health which all who know her amiable

disposition and fine accomplishments would anxiously wish her;

yet, with impaired health and the caution which it renders

necessary, we have very frequently instances of the utmost verge

of existence being attained, while robust strength is cut off in

the middle career. So you must be of good heart, and hope the

best in this as in other cases of a like affecting nature. I go

to town on Monday, and will forward under Mr. Freeling's cover as

much of Ivanhoe as is finished in print. It is completed, but in

the hands of a very slow transcriber; when I can collect it, I

will send you the MS., which you will please to keep secret from

every eye. I think this will give a start, if it be worth taking,

of about a month, for the work will be out on the 20th of

December. It is certainly possible to adapt it to the stage, but

the expense of scenery and decorations would be great, this being

a tale of chivalry, not of character. There is a tale in

existence, by dramatizing which, I am certain, a most powerful

effect might be produced: it is called Undine, and I believe has

been translated into French by Mademoiselle Montolieu, and into

English from her version: do read it, and tell me your opinion:

in German the character of Undine is exquisite. The only

objection is, that the catastrophe is unhappy, but this might be

altered. I hope to be in London for ten days the end of next

month; and so good-by for the present, being in great haste, most

truly yours,

W. SCOTT.

I conclude this chapter with a letter written two or three days before

Scott quitted Abbotsford for the winter session. It is addressed to

his friend Hartstonge, who had taken the opportunity of the renewal of

Scott's correspondence to solicit his opinion and assistance touching

a MS. drama; and the reader will be diverted with the style in which

the amiable tragedian is treated to his _quietus_:--

TO MATTHEW WELD HARTSTONGE, ESQ., DUBLIN.

ABBOTSFORD, 11th November, 1819.

MY DEAR SIR,--I was duly favored with your packet, containing the

play, as well as your very kind letter. I will endeavor (though

extremely unwilling to offer criticism on most occasions) to meet

your confidence with perfect frankness. I do not consider the

Tragedy as likely to make that favorable impression on the public

which I would wish that the performance of a friend should

effect--and I by no means recommend to you to hazard it upon the

boards. In other compositions, the neglect of the world takes

nothing from the merit of the author; but there is something

ludicrous in being _affiche_ as the author of an unsuccessful

play. Besides, you entail on yourself the great and eternal

plague of altering and retrenching to please the humors of

performers, who are, speaking generally, extremely ignorant, and

capricious in proportion. These are not vexations to be

voluntarily undertaken; and the truth is, that in the present day

there is only one reason which seems to me adequate for the

encountering the plague of trying to please a set of conceited

performers and a very motley audience,--I mean the want of money,

from which, fortunately, you are exempted. It is very true that

some day or other a great dramatic genius may arise to strike out

a new path; but I fear till this happens no great effect will be

produced by treading in the old one. The reign of Tragedy seems

to be over, and the very considerable poetical abilities which

have been lately applied to it, have failed to revive it. Should

the public ever be indulged with small theatres adapted to the

hours of the better ranks in life, the dramatic art may recover;

at present it is in abeyance--and I do therefore advise you in

all sincerity to keep the Tragedy (which I return under cover)

safe under your own charge. Pray think of this as one of the most

unpleasant offices of friendship--and be not angry with me for

having been very frank, upon an occasion when frankness may be

more useful than altogether palatable.

I am much obliged to you for your kind intentions towards my

young Hussar. We have not heard from him for three weeks. I

believe he is making out a meditated visit to Killarney. I am

just leaving the country for Edinburgh, to attend my duty in the

courts; but the badness of the weather in some measure reconciles

me to the unpleasant change. I have the pleasure to continue the

most satisfactory accounts of my health; it is, to external

appearance, as strong as in my strongest days--indeed, after I

took once more to Sancho's favorite occupations of eating and

sleeping, I recovered my losses wonderfully. Very truly yours,

WALTER SCOTT.

Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Volume 6 (of 10) · 第 3 / 12 章