But this poor farce has neither truth nor art
To please the fancy or to touch the heart
Dark but not awful dismal but yet mean,
With anxious bustle moves the cumbrous scene,
Presents no objects tender or profound,
But spreads its cold unmeaning gloom around
Parish Register
'Your majesty,' said Mannering, laughing, 'has solemnised your
abdication by an act of mercy and charity. That fellow will scarce
think of going to law.'
'O, you are quite wrong,' said the experienced lawyer. 'The only
difference is, I have lost my client and my fee. He'll never rest till
he finds somebody to encourage him to commit the folly he has
predetermined. No! no! I have only shown you another weakness of my
character: I always speak truth of a Saturday night.'
'And sometimes through the week, I should think,' said Mannering,
continuing the same tone.
'Why, yes; as far as my vocation will permit. I am, as Hamlet says,
indifferent honest, when my clients and their solicitors do not make me
the medium of conveying their double-distilled lies to the bench. But
oportet vivere! it is a sad thing. And now to our business. I am glad
my old friend Mac-Morlan has sent you to me; he is an active, honest,
and intelligent man, long sheriff-substitute of the county of--under
me, and still holds the office. He knows I have a regard for that
unfortunate family of Ellangowan, and for poor Lucy. I have not seen
her since she was twelve years old, and she was then a sweet pretty
girl, under the management of a very silly father. But my interest in
her is of an early date. I was called upon, Mr. Mannering, being then
sheriff of that county, to investigate the particulars of a murder
which had been committed near Ellangowan the day on which this poor
child was born; and which, by a strange combination that I was
unhappily not able to trace, involved the death or abstraction of her
only brother, a boy of about five years old. No, Colonel, I shall never
forget the misery of the house of Ellangowan that morning! the father
half-distracted--the mother dead in premature travail--the helpless
infant, with scarce any one to attend it, coming wawling and crying
into this miserable world at such a moment of unutterable misery. We
lawyers are not of iron, sir, or of brass, any more than you soldiers
are of steel. We are conversant with the crimes and distresses of civil
society, as you are with those that occur in a state of war, and to do
our duty in either case a little apathy is perhaps necessary. But the
devil take a soldier whose heart can be as hard as his sword, and his
dam catch the lawyer who bronzes his bosom instead of his forehead! But
come, I am losing my Saturday at e'en. Will you have the kindness to
trust me with these papers which relate to Miss Bertram's business? and
stay--to-morrow you'll take a bachelor's dinner with an old lawyer,--I
insist upon it--at three precisely, and come an hour sooner. The old
lady is to be buried on Monday; it is the orphan's cause, and we'll
borrow an hour from the Sunday to talk over this business, although I
fear nothing can be done if she has altered her settlement, unless
perhaps it occurs within the sixty days, and then, if Miss Bertram can
show that she possesses the character of heir-at-law, why--But, hark!
my lieges are impatient of their interregnum. I do not invite you to
rejoin us, Colonel; it would be a trespass on your complaisance, unless
you had begun the day with us, and gradually glided on from wisdom to
mirth, and from mirth to-to-to--extravagance. Good-night. Harry, go
home with Mr. Mannering to his lodging. Colonel, I expect you at a
little past two to-morrow.'
The Colonel returned to his inn, equally surprised at the childish
frolics in which he had found his learned counsellor engaged, at the
candour and sound sense which he had in a moment summoned up to meet
the exigencies of his profession, and at the tone of feeling which he
displayed when he spoke of the friendless orphan.
In the morning, while the Colonel and his most quiet and silent of all
retainers, Dominie Sampson, were finishing the breakfast which Barnes
had made and poured out, after the Dominie had scalded himself in the
attempt, Mr. Pleydell was suddenly ushered in. A nicely dressed
bob-wig, upon every hair of which a zealous and careful barber had
bestowed its proper allowance of powder; a well-brushed black suit,
with very clean shoes and gold buckles and stock-buckle; a manner
rather reserved and formal than intrusive, but withal showing only the
formality of manner, by no means that of awkwardness; a countenance,
the expressive and somewhat comic features of which were in complete
repose--all showed a being perfectly different from the choice spirit
of the evening before. A glance of shrewd and piercing fire in his eye
was the only marked expression which recalled the man of 'Saturday at
e'en.'
'I am come,' said he, with a very polite address, 'to use my regal
authority in your behalf in spirituals as well as temporals; can I
accompany you to the Presbyterian kirk, or Episcopal meeting-house?
Tros Tyriusve, a lawyer, you know, is of both religions, or rather I
should say of both forms;--or can I assist in passing the fore-noon
otherwise? You'll excuse my old-fashioned importunity, I was born in a
time when a Scotchman was thought inhospitable if he left a guest alone
a moment, except when he slept; but I trust you will tell me at once if
I intrude.'
'Not at all, my dear sir,' answered Colonel Mannering. 'I am delighted
to put myself under your pilotage. I should wish much to hear some of
your Scottish preachers whose talents have done such honour to your
country--your Blair, your Robertson, or your Henry; and I embrace your
kind offer with all my heart. Only,' drawing the lawyer a little aside,
and turning his eye towards Sampson, 'my worthy friend there in the
reverie is a little helpless and abstracted, and my servant, Barnes,
who is his pilot in ordinary, cannot well assist him here, especially
as he has expressed his determination of going to some of your darker
and more remote places of worship.'
The lawyer's eye glanced at Dominie Sampson. 'A curiosity worth
preserving; and I'll find you a fit custodier. Here you, sir (to the
waiter), go to Luckie Finlayson's in the Cowgate for Miles Macfin the
cadie, he'll be there about this time, and tell him I wish to speak to
him.'
The person wanted soon arrived. 'I will commit your friend to this
man's charge,' said Pleydell; 'he'll attend him, or conduct him,
wherever he chooses to go, with a happy indifference as to kirk or
market, meeting or court of justice, or any other place whatever; and
bring him safe home at whatever hour you appoint; so that Mr. Barnes
there may be left to the freedom of his own will.'
This was easily arranged, and the Colonel committed the Dominie to the
charge of this man while they should remain in Edinburgh.
'And now, sir, if you please, we shall go to the Grey-friars church, to
hear our historian of Scotland, of the Continent, and of America.'
They were disappointed: he did not preach that morning. 'Never mind,'
said the Counsellor, 'have a moment's patience and we shall do very
well.'
The colleague of Dr. Robertson ascended the pulpit. [Footnote: This was
the celebrated Doctor Erskine, a distinguished clergyman, and a most
excellent man.] His external appearance was not prepossessing. A
remarkably fair complexion, strangely contrasted with a black wig
without a grain of powder; a narrow chest and a stooping posture; hands
which, placed like props on either side of the pulpit, seemed necessary
rather to support the person than to assist the gesticulation of the
preacher; no gown, not even that of Geneva, a tumbled band, and a
gesture which seemed scarce voluntary, were the first circumstances
which struck a stranger. 'The preacher seems a very ungainly person,'
whispered Mannering to his new friend.
'Never fear, he's the son of an excellent Scottish lawyer; [Footnote:
The father of Doctor Erskine was an eminent lawyer, and his Institutes
of the Law of Scotland are to this day the text-book of students of
that science.] he'll show blood, I'll warrant him.'
The learned Counsellor predicted truly. A lecture was delivered,
fraught with new, striking, and entertaining views of Scripture
history, a sermon in which the Calvinism of the Kirk of Scotland was
ably supported, yet made the basis of a sound system of practical
morals, which should neither shelter the sinner under the cloak of
speculative faith or of peculiarity of opinion, nor leave him loose to
the waves of unbelief and schism. Something there was of an antiquated
turn of argument and metaphor, but it only served to give zest and
peculiarity to the style of elocution. The sermon was not read: a scrap
of paper containing the heads of the discourse was occasionally
referred to, and the enunciation, which at first seemed imperfect and
embarrassed, became, as the preacher warmed in his progress, animated
and distinct; and although the discourse could not be quoted as a
correct specimen of pulpit eloquence, yet Mannering had seldom heard so
much learning, metaphysical acuteness, and energy of argument brought
into the service of Christianity.
'Such,' he said, going out of the church, 'must have been the preachers
to whose unfearing minds, and acute though sometimes rudely exercised
talents, we owe the Reformation.'
'And yet that reverend gentleman,' said Pleydell, 'whom I love for his
father's sake and his own, has nothing of the sour or pharisaical pride
which has been imputed to some of the early fathers of the Calvinistic
Kirk of Scotland. His colleague and he differ, and head different
parties in the kirk, about particular points of church discipline; but
without for a moment losing personal regard or respect for each other,
or suffering malignity to interfere in an opposition steady, constant,
and apparently conscientious on both sides.'
'And you, Mr. Pleydell, what do you think of their points of
difference?'
'Why, I hope, Colonel, a plain man may go to heaven without thinking
about them at all; besides, inter nos, I am a member of the suffering
and Episcopal Church of Scotland--the shadow of a shade now, and
fortunately so; but I love to pray where my fathers prayed before me,
without thinking worse of the Presbyterian forms because they do not
affect me with the same associations.' And with this remark they parted
until dinner-time.
From the awkward access to the lawyer's mansion, Mannering was induced
to form very moderate expectations of the entertainment which he was to
receive. The approach looked even more dismal by daylight than on the
preceding evening. The houses on each side of the lane were so close
that the neighbours might have shaken hands with each other from the
different sides, and occasionally the space between was traversed by
wooden galleries, and thus entirely closed up. The stair, the
scale-stair, was not well cleaned; and on entering the house Mannering
was struck with the narrowness and meanness of the wainscotted passage.
But the library, into which he was shown by an elderly,
respectable-looking man-servant, was a complete contrast to these
unpromising appearances. It was a well-proportioned room, hung with a
portrait or two of Scottish characters of eminence, by Jamieson, the
Caledonian Vandyke, and surrounded with books, the best editions of the
best authors, and in particular an admirable collection of classics.
'These,' said Pleydell, 'are my tools of trade. A lawyer without
history or literature is a mechanic, a mere working mason; if he
possesses some knowledge of these, he may venture to call himself an
architect.'
But Mannering was chiefly delighted with the view from the windows,
which commanded that incomparable prospect of the ground between
Edinburgh and the sea--the Firth of Forth, with its islands, the
embayment which is terminated by the Law of North Berwick, and the
varied shores of Fife to the northward, indenting with a hilly outline
the clear blue horizon.
When Mr. Pleydell had sufficiently enjoyed the surprise of his guest,
he called his attention to Miss Bertram's affairs. 'I was in hopes,' he
said, 'though but faint, to have discovered some means of ascertaining
her indefeasible right to this property of Singleside; but my
researches have been in vain. The old lady was certainly absolute fiar,
and might dispose of it in full right of property. All that we have to
hope is, that the devil may not have tempted her to alter this very
proper settlement. You must attend the old girl's funeral to-morrow, to
which you will receive an invitation, for I have acquainted her agent
with your being here on Miss Bertram's part; and I will meet you
afterwards at the house she inhabited, and be present to see fair play
at the opening of the settlement. The old cat had a little girl, the
orphan of some relation, who lived with her as a kind of slavish
companion. I hope she has had the conscience to make her independent,
in consideration of the peine forte et dure to which she subjected her
during her lifetime.'
Three gentlemen now appeared, and were introduced to the stranger. They
were men of good sense, gaiety, and general information, so that the
day passed very pleasantly over; and Colonel Mannering assisted, about
eight o'clock at night, in discussing the landlord's bottle, which was,
of course, a magnum. Upon his return to the inn he found a card
inviting him to the funeral of Miss Margaret Bertram, late of
Singleside, which was to proceed from her own house to the place of
interment in the Greyfriars churchyard at one o'clock afternoon.
At the appointed hour Mannering went to a small house in the suburbs to
the southward of the city, where he found the place of mourning
indicated, as usual in Scotland, by two rueful figures with long black
cloaks, white crapes and hat-bands, holding in their hands poles,
adorned with melancholy streamers of the same description. By two other
mutes, who, from their visages, seemed suffering under the pressure of
some strange calamity, he was ushered into the dining-parlour of the
defunct, where the company were assembled for the funeral.
In Scotland the custom, now disused in England, of inviting the
relations of the deceased to the interment is universally retained. On
many occasions this has a singular and striking effect, but it
degenerates into mere empty form and grimace in cases where the defunct
has had the misfortune to live unbeloved and die unlamented. The
English service for the dead, one of the most beautiful and impressive
parts of the ritual of the church, would have in such cases the effect
of fixing the attention, and uniting the thoughts and feelings of the
audience present in an exercise of devotion so peculiarly adapted to
such an occasion. But according to the Scottish custom, if there be not
real feeling among the assistants, there is nothing to supply the
deficiency, and exalt or rouse the attention; so that a sense of
tedious form, and almost hypocritical restraint, is too apt to pervade
the company assembled for the mournful solemnity. Mrs. Margaret Bertram
was unluckily one of those whose good qualities had attached no general
friendship. She had no near relations who might have mourned from
natural affection, and therefore her funeral exhibited merely the
exterior trappings of sorrow.
Mannering, therefore, stood among this lugubrious company of cousins in
the third, fourth, fifth, and sixth degree, composing his countenance
to the decent solemnity of all who were around him, and looking as much
concerned on Mrs. Margaret Bertram's account as if the deceased lady of
Singleside had been his own sister or mother. After a deep and awful
pause, the company began to talk aside, under their breaths, however,
and as if in the chamber of a dying person.
'Our poor friend,' said one grave gentleman, scarcely opening his
mouth, for fear of deranging the necessary solemnity of his features,
and sliding his whisper from between his lips, which were as little
unclosed as possible--'our poor friend has died well to pass in the
world.'
'Nae doubt,' answered the person addressed, with half-closed eyes;
'poor Mrs. Margaret was aye careful of the gear.'
'Any news to-day, Colonel Mannering?' said one of the gentlemen whom he
had dined with the day before, but in a tone which might, for its
impressive gravity, have communicated the death of his whole generation.
'Nothing particular, I believe, sir,' said Mannering, in the cadence
which was, he observed, appropriated to the house of mourning.
'I understand,' continued the first speaker, emphatically, and with the
air of one who is well informed--'I understand there IS a settlement.'
'And what does little Jenny Gibson get?'
'A hundred, and the auld repeater.'
'That's but sma' gear, puir thing; she had a sair time o't with the
auld leddy. But it's ill waiting for dead folk's shoon.'
'I am afraid,' said the politician, who was close by Mannering, 'we
have not done with your old friend Tippoo Sahib yet, I doubt he'll give
the Company more plague; and I am told, but you'll know for certain,
that East India Stock is not rising.'
'I trust it will, sir, soon.'
'Mrs. Margaret,' said another person, mingling in the conversation,
'had some India bonds. I know that, for I drew the interest for her; it
would be desirable now for the trustees and legatees to have the
Colonel's advice about the time and mode of converting them into money.
For my part I think--but there's Mr. Mortcloke to tell us they are gaun
to lift.'
Mr. Mortcloke the undertaker did accordingly, with a visage of
professional length and most grievous solemnity, distribute among the
pall-bearers little cards, assigning their respective situations in
attendance upon the coffin. As this precedence is supposed to be
regulated by propinquity to the defunct, the undertaker, however
skilful a master of these lugubrious ceremonies, did not escape giving
some offence. To be related to Mrs. Bertram was to be of kin to the
lands of Singleside, and was a propinquity of which each relative
present at that moment was particularly jealous. Some murmurs there
were on the occasion, and our friend Dinmont gave more open offence,
being unable either to repress his discontent or to utter it in the key
properly modulated to the solemnity. 'I think ye might hae at least
gi'en me a leg o' her to carry,' he exclaimed, in a voice considerably
louder than propriety admitted. 'God! an it hadna been for the rigs o'
land, I would hae gotten her a' to carry mysell, for as mony gentles as
are here.'
A score of frowning and reproving brows were bent upon the unappalled
yeoman, who, having given vent to his displeasure, stalked sturdily
downstairs with the rest of the company, totally disregarding the
censures of those whom his remarks had scandalised.
And then the funeral pomp set forth; saulies with their batons and
gumphions of tarnished white crape, in honour of the well-preserved
maiden fame of Mrs. Margaret Bertram. Six starved horses, themselves
the very emblems of mortality, well cloaked and plumed, lugging along
the hearse with its dismal emblazonry, crept in slow state towards the
place of interment, preceded by Jamie Duff, an idiot, who, with weepers
and cravat made of white paper, attended on every funeral, and followed
by six mourning coaches, filled with the company. Many of these now
gave more free loose to their tongues, and discussed with unrestrained
earnestness the amount of the succession, and the probability of its
destination. The principal expectants, however, kept a prudent silence,
indeed ashamed to express hopes which might prove fallacious; and the
agent or man of business, who alone knew exactly how matters stood,
maintained a countenance of mysterious importance, as if determined to
preserve the full interest of anxiety and suspense.
At length they arrived at the churchyard gates, and from thence, amid
the gaping of two or three dozen of idle women with infants in their
arms, and accompanied by some twenty children, who ran gambolling and
screaming alongside of the sable procession, they finally arrived at
the burial-place of the Singleside family. This was a square enclosure
in the Greyfriars churchyard, guarded on one side by a veteran angel
without a nose, and having only one wing, who had the merit of having
maintained his post for a century, while his comrade cherub, who had
stood sentinel on the corresponding pedestal, lay a broken trunk among
the hemlock, burdock, and nettles which grew in gigantic luxuriance
around the walls of the mausoleum. A moss-grown and broken inscription
informed the reader that in the year 1650 Captain Andrew Bertram, first
of Singleside, descended of the very ancient and honourable house of
Ellangowan, had caused this monument to be erected for himself and his
descendants. A reasonable number of scythes and hour-glasses, and
death's heads and cross-bones, garnished the following sprig of
sepulchral poetry to the memory of the founder of the mausoleum:--
Nathaniel's heart, Bezaleel's hand
If ever any had,
These boldly do I say had he,
Who lieth in this bed.
Here, then, amid the deep black fat loam into which her ancestors were
now resolved, they deposited the body of Mrs. Margaret Bertram; and,
like soldiers returning from a military funeral, the nearest relations
who might be interested in the settlements of the lady urged the
dog-cattle of the hackney coaches to all the speed of which they were
capable, in order to put an end to farther suspense on that interesting
topic.