The moon, were she earthly, no nobler. CORIOLANUS.
When we set out on the jolly voyage of life, what a brave fleet there
is around us, as, stretching our finest canvas to the breeze, all
“shipshape and Bristol fashion,” pennons flying, music playing, cheering
each other as we pass, we are rather amused than alarmed when some
awkward comrade goes right ashore for want of pilotage! Alas! when the
voyage is well spent, and we look about us, toil-worn mariners, how few
of our ancient consorts still remain in sight; and they, how torn and
wasted, and, like ourselves, struggling to keep as long as possible off
the fatal shore, against which we are all finally drifting!
I felt this very trite but melancholy truth in all its force the other
day, when a packet with a black seal arrived, containing a letter
addressed to me by my late excellent friend Mrs. Martha Bethune Baliol,
and marked with the fatal indorsation, “To be delivered according
to address, after I shall be no more.” A letter from her executors
accompanied the packet, mentioning that they had found in her will a
bequest to me of a painting of some value, which she stated would just
fit the space above my cupboard, and fifty guineas to buy a ring. And
thus I separated, with all the kindness which we had maintained for many
years, from a friend, who, though old enough to have been the companion
of my mother, was yet, in gaiety of spirits and admirable sweetness
of temper, capable of being agreeable, and even animating society, for
those who write themselves in the vaward of youth, an advantage which I
have lost for these five-and-thirty years. The contents of the packet
I had no difficulty in guessing, and have partly hinted at them in the
last chapter. But to instruct the reader in the particulars, and at the
same time to indulge myself with recalling the virtues and agreeable
qualities of my late friend, I will give a short sketch of her manners
and habits.
Mrs. Martha Bethune Baliol was a person of quality and fortune, as these
are esteemed in Scotland. Her family was ancient, and her connections
honourable. She was not fond of specially indicating her exact age, but
her juvenile recollections stretched backwards till before the eventful
year 1745, and she remembered the Highland clans being in possession of
the Scottish capital, though probably only as an indistinct vision. Her
fortune, independent by her father’s bequest, was rendered opulent by
the death of more than one brave brother, who fell successively in the
service of their country, so that the family estates became vested in
the only surviving child of the ancient house of Bethune Baliol. My
intimacy was formed with the excellent lady after this event, and when
she was already something advanced in age.
She inhabited, when in Edinburgh, where she regularly spent the winter
season, one of those old hotels which, till of late, were to be found in
the neighbourhood of the Canongate and of the Palace of Holyrood House,
and which, separated from the street, now dirty and vulgar, by paved
courts and gardens of some extent, made amends for an indifferent
access, by showing something of aristocratic state and seclusion when
you were once admitted within their precincts. They have pulled her
house down; for, indeed, betwixt building and burning, every ancient
monument of the Scottish capital is now likely to be utterly demolished.
I pause on the recollections of the place, however; and since nature has
denied a pencil when she placed a pen in my hand, I will endeavour to
make words answer the purpose of delineation.
Baliol’s Lodging, so was the mansion named, reared its high stack of
chimneys, among which were seen a turret or two, and one of those
small projecting platforms called bartizans, above the mean and modern
buildings which line the south side of the Canongate, towards the lower
end of that street, and not distant from the Palace. A PORTE COCHERE,
having a wicket for foot passengers, was, upon due occasion, unfolded by
a lame old man, tall, grave, and thin, who tenanted a hovel beside the
gate, and acted as porter. To this office he had been promoted by my
friend’s charitable feelings for an old soldier, and partly by an idea
that his head, which was a very fine one, bore some resemblance to that
of Garrick in the character of Lusignan. He was a man saturnine, silent,
and slow in his proceedings, and would never open the PORTE COCHERE to
a hackney coach, indicating the wicket with his finger as the proper
passage for all who came in that obscure vehicle, which was not
permitted to degrade with its ticketed presence the dignity of Baliol’s
Lodging. I do not think this peculiarity would have met with his lady’s
approbation, any more than the occasional partiality of Lusignan, or, as
mortals called him, Archie Macready, to a dram. But Mrs. Martha Bethune
Baliol, conscious that, in case of conviction, she could never have
prevailed upon herself to dethrone the King of Palestine from the stone
bench on which he sat for hours knitting his stocking, refused, by
accrediting the intelligence, even to put him upon his trial, well
judging that he would observe more wholesome caution if he conceived his
character unsuspected, than if he were detected, and suffered to pass
unpunished. For after all, she said, it would be cruel to dismiss an
old Highland soldier for a peccadillo so appropriate to his country and
profession.
The stately gate for carriages, or the humble accommodation for
foot-passengers, admitted into a narrow and short passage running
between two rows of lime-trees, whose green foliage during the spring
contrasted strangely with the swart complexion of the two walls by the
side of which they grew. This access led to the front of the house,
which was formed by two gable ends, notched, and having their windows
adorned with heavy architectural ornaments. They joined each other at
right angles; and a half circular tower, which contained the entrance
and the staircase, occupied the point of junction, and rounded the acute
angle. One of other two sides of the little court, in which there
was just sufficient room to turn a carriage, was occupied by some low
buildings answering the purpose of offices; the other, by a parapet
surrounded by a highly-ornamented iron railing, twined round with
honeysuckle and other parasitical shrubs, which permitted the eye to
peep into a pretty suburban garden, extending down to the road called
the South Back of the Canongate, and boasting a number of old trees,
many flowers, and even some fruit. We must not forget to state that the
extreme cleanliness of the courtyard was such as intimated that mop
and pail had done their utmost in that favoured spot to atone for
the general dirt and dinginess of the quarter where the premises were
situated.
Over the doorway were the arms of Bethune and Baliol, with various other
devices, carved in stone. The door itself was studded with iron nails,
and formed of black oak; an iron rasp, as it was called, was placed on
it, instead of a knocker, for the purpose of summoning the attendants.
[See Note 3.--Iron Rasp.] He who usually appeared at the summons was a
smart lad, in a handsome livery, the son of Mrs. Martha’s gardener at
Mount Baliol. Now and then a servant girl, nicely but plainly dressed,
and fully accoutred with stockings and shoes, would perform this duty;
and twice or thrice I remember being admitted by Beauffet himself, whose
exterior looked as much like that of a clergyman of rank as the butler
of a gentleman’s family. He had been valet-de-chambre to the last Sir
Richard Bethune Baliol, and was, a person highly trusted by the present
lady. A full stand, as it is called in Scotland, of garments of a dark
colour, gold buckles in his shoes and at the knees of his breeches, with
his hair regularly dressed and powdered, announced him to be a domestic
of trust and importance. His mistress used to say of him,--
“He is sad and civil,
And suits well for a servant with my fortunes.”
As no one can escape scandal, some said that Beauffet made a rather
better thing of the place than the modesty of his old-fashioned wages
would, unassisted, have amounted to. But the man was always very civil
to me. He had been long in the family, had enjoyed legacies, and lain by
a something of his own, upon which he now enjoys ease with dignity, in
as far as his newly-married wife, Tibbie Shortacres, will permit him.
The Lodging--dearest reader, if you are tired, pray pass over the
next four or five pages--was not by any means so large as its external
appearance led people to conjecture. The interior accommodation was much
cut up by cross walls and long passages, and that neglect of economizing
space which characterizes old Scottish architecture. But there was far
more room than my old friend required, even when she had, as was often
the case, four or five young cousins under her protection; and I believe
much of the house was unoccupied. Mrs. Bethune Baliol never, in my
presence, showed herself so much offended as once with a meddling person
who advised her to have the windows of these supernumerary apartments
built up to save the tax. She said in ire that, while she lived, the
light of God should visit the house of her fathers; and while she had
a penny, king and country should have their due. Indeed, she was
punctiliously loyal, even in that most staggering test of loyalty, the
payment of imposts. Mr. Beauffet told me he was ordered to offer a glass
of wine to the person who collected the income tax, and that the poor
man was so overcome by a reception so unwontedly generous, that he had
well-nigh fainted on the spot.
You entered by a matted anteroom into the eating-parlour, filled
with old-fashioned furniture, and hung with family portraits, which,
excepting one of Sir Bernard Bethune, in James the Sixth’s time, said to
be by Jameson, were exceedingly frightful. A saloon, as it was called,
a long, narrow chamber, led out of the dining-parlour, and served for
a drawing-room. It was a pleasant apartment, looking out upon the south
flank of Holyrood House, the gigantic slope of Arthur’s Seat, and the
girdle of lofty rocks called Salisbury Crags; objects so rudely wild,
that the mind can hardly conceive them to exist in the vicinage of a
populous metropolis. [The Rev. Mr. Bowles derives the name of these
crags, as of the Episcopal city in the west of England, from the same
root, both, in his opinion, which he very ably defends and illustrates,
having been the sites of Druidical temples.] The paintings of the saloon
came from abroad, and had some of them much merit. To see the best of
them, however, you must be admitted into the very PENETRALIA of the
temple, and allowed to draw the tapestry at the upper end of the saloon,
and enter Mrs. Martha’s own special dressing-room. This was a charming
apartment, of which it would be difficult to describe the form, it had
so many recesses which were filled up with shelves of ebony and cabinets
of japan and ormolu--some for holding books, of which Mrs. Martha had an
admirable collection, some for a display of ornamental china, others for
shells and similar curiosities. In a little niche, half screened by a
curtain of crimson silk, was disposed a suit of tilting armour of bright
steel inlaid with silver, which had been worn on some memorable occasion
by Sir Bernard Bethune, already mentioned; while over the canopy of the
niche hung the broadsword with which her father had attempted to change
the fortunes of Britain in 1715, and the spontoon which her elder
brother bore when he was leading on a company of the Black Watch at
Fontenoy. [The well-known original designation of the gallant 42nd
Regiment. Being the first corps raised for the royal service in the
Highlands, and allowed to retain their national garb, they were thus
named from the contrast which their dark tartans furnished to the
scarlet and white of the other regiments.]
There were some Italian and Flemish pictures of admitted authenticity, a
few genuine bronzes, and other objects of curiosity, which her brothers
or herself had picked up while abroad. In short, it was a place where
the idle were tempted to become studious, the studious to grow idle
where the grave might find matter to make them gay, and the gay subjects
for gravity.
That it might maintain some title to its name, I must not forget to
say that the lady’s dressing-room exhibited a superb mirror, framed in
silver filigree work; a beautiful toilette, the cover of which was of
Flanders lace; and a set of boxes corresponding in materials and work to
the frame of the mirror.
This dressing apparatus, however, was mere matter of parade. Mrs. Martha
Bethune Baliol always went through the actual duties of the toilette in
an inner apartment, which corresponded with her sleeping-room by a
small detached staircase. There were, I believe, more than one of those
TURNPIKE STAIRS, as they were called, about the house, by which the
public rooms, all of which entered through each other, were accommodated
with separate and independent modes of access. In the little boudoir we
have described, Mrs. Martha Baliol had her choicest meetings. She kept
early hours; and if you went in the morning, you must not reckon that
space of day as extending beyond three o’clock, or four at the utmost.
These vigilant habits were attended with some restraint on her visitors,
but they were indemnified by your always finding the best society and
the best information which were to be had for the day in the Scottish
capital. Without at all affecting the blue stocking, she liked books.
They amused her; and if the authors were persons of character, she
thought she owed them a debt of civility, which she loved to discharge
by personal kindness. When she gave a dinner to a small party, which she
did now and then, she had the good nature to look for, and the good luck
to discover, what sort of people suited each other best, and chose her
company as Duke Theseus did his hounds,--
“Matched in mouth like bells,
Each under each,”
[Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act IV. Sc. I.]
so that every guest could take his part in the cry, instead of one
mighty Tom of a fellow, like Dr. Johnson, silencing all besides by the
tremendous depth of his diapason. On such occasions she afforded CHERE
EXQUISE; and every now and then there was some dish of French, or even
Scottish derivation, which, as well as the numerous assortment of VINS
EXTRAORDINAIRES produced by Mr. Beauffet, gave a sort of antique and
foreign air to the entertainment, which rendered it more interesting.
It was a great thing to be asked to such parties; and not less so to be
invited to the early CONVERSAZIONE, which, in spite of fashion, by dint
of the best coffee, the finest tea, and CHASSE CAFE that would have
called the dead to life, she contrived now and then to assemble in her
saloon already mentioned, at the unnatural hour of eight in the evening.
At such time the cheerful old lady seemed to enjoy herself so much in
the happiness of her guests that they exerted themselves in turn to
prolong her amusement and their own; and a certain charm was excited
around, seldom to be met with in parties of pleasure, and which was
founded on the general desire of every one present to contribute
something to the common amusement.
But although it was a great privilege to be admitted to wait on my
excellent friend in the morning, or be invited to her dinner or evening
parties, I prized still higher the right which I had acquired, by old
acquaintance, of visiting Baliol’s Lodging upon the chance of finding
its venerable inhabitant preparing for tea, just about six o’clock in
the evening. It was only to two or three old friends that she permitted
this freedom; nor was this sort of chance-party ever allowed to extend
itself beyond five in number. The answer to those who came later
announced that the company was filled up for the evening, which had the
double effect of making those who waited on Mrs. Bethune Baliol in this
unceremonious manner punctual in observing her hour, and of adding the
zest of a little difficulty to the enjoyment of the party.
It more frequently happened that only one or two persons partook of
this refreshment on the same evening; or, supposing the case of a single
gentleman, Mrs. Martha, though she did not hesitate to admit him to her
boudoir, after the privilege of the French and the old Scottish school,
took care, as she used to say, to prescribe all possible propriety, by
commanding the attendance of her principal female attendant, Mrs. Alice
Lambskin, who might, from the gravity and dignity of her appearance,
have sufficed to matronize a whole boarding-school, instead of one
maiden lady of eighty and upwards. As the weather permitted, Mrs. Alice
sat duly remote from the company in a FAUTEUIL behind the projecting
chimney-piece, or in the embrasure of a window, and prosecuted in
Carthusian silence, with indefatigable zeal, a piece of embroidery,
which seemed no bad emblem of eternity.
But I have neglected all this while to introduce my friend herself to
the reader--at least so far as words can convey the peculiarities by
which her appearance and conversation were distinguished.
A little woman, with ordinary features and an ordinary form, and hair
which in youth had no decided colour, we may believe Mrs. Martha when
she said of herself that she was never remarkable for personal charms; a
modest admission, which was readily confirmed by certain old ladies, her
contemporaries, who, whatever might have been the youthful advantages
which they more than hinted had been formerly their own share, were now
in personal appearance, as well as in everything else, far inferior to
my accomplished friend. Mrs. Martha’s features had been of a kind
which might be said to wear well; their irregularity was now of
little consequence, animated, as they were, by the vivacity of her
conversation. Her teeth were excellent, and her eyes, although inclining
to grey, were lively, laughing, and undimmed by time. A slight shade of
complexion, more brilliant than her years promised, subjected my friend
amongst strangers to the suspicion of having stretched her foreign
habits as far as the prudent touch of the rouge. But it was a calumny;
for when telling or listening to an interesting and affecting story,
I have seen her colour come and go as if it played on the cheek of
eighteen.
Her hair, whatever its former deficiencies was now the most beautiful
white that time could bleach, and was disposed with some degree of
pretension, though in the simplest manner possible, so as to appear
neatly smoothed under a cap of Flanders lace, of an old-fashioned but,
as I thought, of a very handsome form, which undoubtedly has a name,
and I would endeavour to recur to it, if I thought it would make my
description a bit more intelligible. I think I have heard her say these
favourite caps had been her mother’s, and had come in fashion with a
peculiar kind of wig used by the gentlemen about the time of the
battle of Ramillies. The rest of her dress was always rather costly and
distinguished, especially in the evening. A silk or satin gown of some
colour becoming her age, and of a form which, though complying to a
certain degree with the present fashion, had always a reference to some
more distant period, was garnished with triple ruffles. Her shoes had
diamond buckles, and were raised a little at heel, an advantage which,
possessed in her youth, she alleged her size would not permit her to
forego in her old age. She always wore rings, bracelets, and other
ornaments of value, either for the materials or the workmanship; nay,
perhaps she was a little profuse in this species of display. But
she wore them as subordinate matters, to which the habits of being
constantly in high life rendered her indifferent; she wore them because
her rank required it, and thought no more of them as articles of finery
than a gentleman dressed for dinner thinks of his clean linen and
well-brushed coat, the consciousness of which embarrasses the rustic
beau on a Sunday.
Now and then, however, if a gem or ornament chanced to be noticed for
its beauty or singularity, the observation usually led the way to an
entertaining account of the manner in which it had been acquired, or the
person from whom it had descended to its present possessor. On such and
similar occasions my old friend spoke willingly, which is not uncommon;
but she also, which is more rare, spoke remarkably well, and had in her
little narratives concerning foreign parts or former days, which formed
an interesting part of her conversation, the singular art of dismissing
all the usual protracted tautology respecting time, place, and
circumstances which is apt to settle like a mist upon the cold and
languid tales of age, and at the same time of bringing forward, dwelling
upon, and illustrating those incidents and characters which give point
and interest to the story.
She had, as we have hinted, travelled a good deal in foreign countries;
for a brother, to whom she was much attached, had been sent upon various
missions of national importance to the Continent, and she had more than
once embraced the opportunity of accompanying him. This furnished a
great addition to the information which she could supply, especially
during the last war, when the Continent was for so many years
hermetically sealed against the English nation. But, besides, Mrs.
Bethune Baliol visited different countries, not in the modern fashion,
when English travel in caravans together, and see in France and Italy
little besides the same society which they might have enjoyed at home.
On the contrary, she mingled when abroad with the natives of those
countries she visited, and enjoyed at once the advantage of their
society, and the pleasure of comparing it with that of Britain.
In the course of her becoming habituated with foreign manners, Mrs.
Bethune Baliol had, perhaps, acquired some slight tincture of them
herself. Yet I was always persuaded that the peculiar vivacity of
look and manner--the pointed and appropriate action with which she
accompanied what she said--the use of the gold and gemmed TABATIERE, or
rather, I should say, BONBONNIERE (for she took no snuff, and the
little box contained only a few pieces of candled angelica, or some such
ladylike sweetmeat), were of real old-fashioned Scottish growth,
and such as might have graced the tea-table of Susannah, Countess
of Eglinton, the patroness of Allan Ramsay [See Note 4.--Countess of
Eglinton.], or of the Hon. Mrs. Colonel Ogilvy, who was another mirror
by whom the Maidens of Auld Reekie were required to dress themselves.
Although well acquainted with the customs of other countries, her
manners had been chiefly formed in her own, at a time when great folk
lived within little space and when the distinguished names of the
highest society gave to Edinburgh the ECLAT which we now endeavour to
derive from the unbounded expense and extended circle of our pleasures.
I was more confirmed in this opinion by the peculiarity of the dialect
which Mrs. Baliol used. It was Scottish--decidedly Scottish--often
containing phrases and words little used in the present day. But then
her tone and mode of pronunciation were as different from the usual
accent of the ordinary Scotch PATOIS, as the accent of St. James’s is
from that of Billingsgate. The vowels were not pronounced much broader
than in the Italian language, and there was none of the disagreeable
drawl which is so offensive to southern ears. In short, it seemed to
be the Scottish as spoken by the ancient Court of Scotland, to which no
idea of vulgarity could be attached; and the lively manners and gestures
with which it was accompanied were so completely in accord with the
sound of the voice and the style of talking, that I cannot assign them a
different origin. In long derivation, perhaps the manner of the Scottish
court might have been originally formed on that of France, to which it
had certainly some affinity; but I will live and die in the belief that
those of Mrs. Baliol, as pleasing as they were peculiar, came to her
by direct descent from the high dames who anciently adorned with their
presence the royal halls of Holyrood.