his big black eye filled with tears. A little after, he turned with
much interest to the company, pointed to the picture, and, with some
eagerness, asked if any one could tell him who had written these
affecting lines. The philosophers were silent--no one knew; but, after
a decent interval, the pale lame boy near by said in a negligent
manner: ‘They’re written by one Langhorne.’ An explanation of the place
where they occur (poem of _The Country Justice_) followed, and Burns
fixed a look of half-serious interest on the youth, while he said:
‘You’ll be a man yet, sir.’ Scott may be said to have derived literary
ordination from Burns. Somewhat oddly, the name Langhorne is quoted
at the bottom of the lines, but in so small a character that the poet
might well fail to read it.[1]
PROFESSION.
About his sixteenth year, Sir Walter’s health experienced a sudden
but most decisive change for the better. Though his lameness remained
the same, his body became tall and robust, and he was thus enabled
to apply himself with the necessary degree of energy to his studies
for the bar. At the same time that he attended the Lectures of
Professor Dick on Civil Law in the college, he performed the duties of
a writer’s apprentice under his father; that being the most approved
method by which a barrister could acquire a technical knowledge of his
profession, though it has never been uniformly practised.
Respect for his parents and for the common duties of life, was always a
strong feeling in Scott; he therefore applied himself without a murmur
to the desk in his father’s office, though he acknowledges that the
recess beneath was generally stuffed with his favourite books, from
which, at intervals, he would ‘snatch a fearful joy.’ He even made his
diligence in copying law-papers a means of gratifying his intellectual
passions, often writing an unusual quantity, that with the result he
might purchase some book or object of virtù which he wished to possess.
It should be mentioned that the little room assigned to him on the
kitchen-floor of his father’s house in George Square was already made
a kind of museum by his taste for curiosities, especially those of an
antiquarian nature. He never was heard to grudge the years he had spent
in his father’s painstaking business; on the contrary, he recollected
them with pleasure, for it was always a matter of pride with him to be
a man of business as well as a man of letters. The discipline of the
office gave him a number of little technical habits, which he never
afterwards lost. He was, for instance, much of a formalist in the
folding and disposal of papers. The writer of this narrative recollects
folding a paper in a wrong fashion in his presence, when he instantly
undid it, and shewed, with a school-masterlike nicety, but with great
good-humour, the proper way to perform this little piece of business.
While advancing to manhood, and during its first few years, Scott,
besides keeping up his desultory system of reading, attended the
meetings of a literary society composed of such youths as himself. A
selection of these and of his early schoolfellows, became his ordinary
companions. Amongst them was William Clerk, son of Mr Clerk of Eldin,
and afterwards a distinguished member of the Scottish bar. It was
the pleasure of this group of young men to take frequent rambles in
the country, visiting any ancient castle or other remarkable object
within their reach. Scott, notwithstanding his limp, walked as stoutly,
and sustained fatigue as well, as any of them. Sometimes they would,
according to the general habits of those days, resort to taverns for
oysters and punch. Scott entered into such indulgences without losing
self-control; but he lived to think this ill-spent time. As to other
follies equally besetting to youth, it is admitted by all his early
friends that he was in a singular degree pure and blameless. His genial
good-humour made him a favourite with his young friends, and they could
not deny his possessing much out-of-the-way knowledge; yet it does not
appear that they saw in him any intellectual superiority, or reason to
expect the brilliant destiny which awaited him. The tendency of all
testimony from those who knew him at this time is rather to set him
down as one from whom nothing extraordinary was to be looked for in
mature manhood.
We can easily see the grounds of this opinion. Scott had not been
a good scholar. He shewed none of the peculiarities of the young
sonneteer, for poetry was not yet developed in his nature. Any
advantage he possessed over others of his own standing lay in a kind
of learning which seemed useless. It is not, then, surprising that he
ranked only with ordinary youths, or perhaps a little below them. It
is asserted, however, by James Ballantyne, that there was a certain
firmness of understanding in Scott, which enabled him to acquire
an ascendency over some of his companions; giving him the power of
allaying their quarrels by a few words, and disposing them to submit
to him on many other occasions. Still, this must have looked like a
quality of the common world, and especially unconnected with literary
genius.
When Scott’s apprenticeship expired, the father was willing to
introduce him at once into a business which would have yielded a
tolerable income; but the youth, stirred by ambition, preferred
advancing to the bar, for which his service in a writer’s office was
the reverse of a disqualification. Having therefore passed through the
usual studies, he was admitted of the Faculty of Advocates, July 1792.
This is a profession in which a young man usually spends a few years to
little purpose, unless peculiar advantages in the way of patronage help
him on. Scott does not appear to have done more for some sessions than
pass creditably enough through certain routine duties which his father
and others imposed upon him, and for which only moderate remuneration
was made. He wanted the ready fluent address which is required for
pleading, and his knowledge of law was not such as to attract business
to him as a consulting counsel. While lingering out the first few idle
years of professional life, he studied the German language and some
of its modern writers. He also continued the same kind of antiquarian
reading for which he had already become remarkable.
Amongst other things giving a character to his mind, were certain
annual journeys he made into the pastoral district of Liddesdale,
where the castles of the old Border chiefs, and the legends of their
exploits, were still rife. On these occasions, he was accompanied by an
intelligent friend, Mr Robert Shortreed, long after sheriff-substitute
at Jedburgh. No inns, and hardly any roads, were then in Liddesdale.
The farmers were a simple race, knowing nothing of the outward world.
So much was this the case, that one honest fellow, at whose house the
travellers alighted to spend a night, was actually frightened at the
idea of meeting an Edinburgh advocate. Willie o’ Milburn, as this hero
was called, at length took a careful survey of Scott round a corner of
the stable, and getting somewhat reassured from the sight, said to Mr
Shortreed: ‘Weel, de’il ha’e me if I’s be a bit feared for him now;
he’s just a chield like ourselves, I think.’ On these excursions, Scott
took down from old people anecdotes of the old rough times, and copies
of the ballads in which the adventures of the Elliots and Armstrongs
were recorded. Thus were laid the foundations of the collection which
became in time the _Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border_. The friendship
of Mr Edmonstone of Newton led him, in like manner, to visit those
districts of Stirlingshire and lower Perthshire where he afterwards
localised his _Lady of the Lake_. There he learned much of the more
recent rough times of the Highlands, and even conversed with one
gentleman who had had to do with Rob Roy. These things constituted the
real education of Scott’s mind, as far as his character as a literary
man is concerned.
POLITICAL OPINIONS--SOLDIERING.
From his earliest years, Sir Walter’s political leanings were towards
Conservatism, or that principle which disposes men to wish for the
preservation of existing institutions, and the continuance of power
in the hands which have heretofore possessed it. ‘As for politics,’
says Shenstone in his Letters, ‘I think poets are Tories by nature,
supposing them to be by nature poets. The love of an individual
person or family that has worn a crown for many successions, is an
inclination greatly adapted to the fanciful tribe. On the other
hand, mathematicians, abstract reasoners, of no manner of attachment
to persons, at least to the visible part of them, but prodigiously
devoted to the ideas of virtue, liberty, and so forth, are generally
Whigs.’ There is much in this passage that hits the particular case of
Sir Walter Scott. But moods of political feeling are not confined to
individuals--they sometimes become nearly general over entire nations.
At the time when Sir Walter entered public life, almost all the
respectable part of the community were replete with a Tory species of
feeling in behalf of the British constitution, as threatened by France;
and numerous bodies of volunteer militia were consequently formed, for
the purpose of local defence against invasion from that country. In the
beginning of the year 1797, it was judged necessary by the gentlemen
of Mid-Lothian to imitate the example already set by several counties,
by embodying themselves in a cavalry corps. This association assumed
the name of the Royal Mid-Lothian Regiment of Cavalry; and Mr Walter
Scott had the honour to be appointed its adjutant, for which office
his lameness was considered no bar, especially as he happened to be a
remarkably graceful equestrian. He was a signally zealous officer, and
very popular in the regiment, on account of his extreme good-humour and
powers of social entertainment. His appointment partly resulted from,
and partly led to, an intimacy with the most considerable man of his
name, Henry, Duke of Buccleuch, who had taken a great interest in the
embodying of the corps. It was also perhaps the means, to a certain
extent, of making him known to Mr Henry Dundas, who was now one of His
Majesty’s Secretaries of State, and a lively promoter of the scheme of
national defence in Scotland. Adjutant Scott composed a war-song, as he
called it, for the Mid-Lothian Cavalry, which he afterwards published
in the _Border Minstrelsy_. It is an animated poem, and might, as a
person is _now_ apt to suppose, have commanded attention, by whomsoever
written, or wherever presented to notice. Yet, to shew how apt men
are to judge of literary compositions upon general principles, and
not with a direct reference to the particular merits of the article,
it may be mentioned that the war-song was only a subject of ridicule
to many individuals of the troop. The individual, in particular, who
communicated this information, remembered a large party of the officers
dining together at Musselburgh, where the chief amusement, at a certain
period of the night, was to repeat the initial line, ‘To horse, to
horse!’ with burlesque expression, and laugh at ‘this attempt of
Scott’s’ as a piece of supreme absurdity.
[VISIT TO PEEBLESSHIRE.
In the autumn of 1797, Walter Scott, accompanied by his brother John,
and Adam Ferguson, made an excursion to the borders of Cumberland,
taking in their way the mansion of Hallyards, in the parish of Manor,
Peeblesshire, where Dr Adam Ferguson was now temporarily settled with
his family. Here Scott resided for a few days, visiting Barns and other
places in the neighbourhood. In a small cottage on the property of
Woodhouse resided a poor and singular recluse, dwarfed and decrepit, by
name David Ritchie, who was visited as one of the curiosities of the
district; and it was doubtless on this occasion that Scott received
those impressions which afterwards figured in the character of the
‘Black Dwarf.’
Ritchie, with all his oddities, had a deep veneration for learning;
and as he was told that Scott was a young advocate, he invested him
with extraordinary interest. Ferguson gave an amusing account of the
interview. He and his companion were accommodated with seats in the
lowly and dingy hut. After grinning upon Scott for a moment with
a smile less bitter than his wont, the dwarf passed to the door,
double-locked it, and then, coming up to the stranger, seized him by
the wrist with one of his hands, and said: ‘Man, hae ye ony poo’er?’
By this he meant magical power, to which he had himself some vague
pretensions, or which, at least, he had studied and reflected upon
till it had become with him a kind of monomania. Scott disavowed
the possession of any gifts of this kind, evidently to the great
disappointment of the inquirer, who then turned round and gave a signal
to a huge black cat, hitherto unobserved, which immediately jumped
up to a shelf, where it perched itself, and seemed to the excited
senses of the visitors as if it had really been the familiar spirit
of the mansion. ‘_He_ has poo’er,’ said the dwarf, in a voice which
made the flesh of the hearers thrill, and Scott, in particular, looked
as if he conceived himself to have actually got into the den of one
of those magicians with whom his studies had rendered him familiar.
‘Ay, he has poo’er,’ repeated the recluse, and then going to his usual
seat, he sat for some minutes grinning horribly, as if enjoying the
impression he had made; while not a word escaped from any of the party.
Mr Ferguson at length plucked up his spirits, and called to David to
open the door, as they must now be going. The dwarf slowly obeyed; and
when they had got out, Mr Ferguson observed that his friend was as
pale as ashes, while his person was agitated in every limb. Under such
striking circumstances was this extraordinary being first presented to
the _real_ magician, who was afterwards to give him such a deathless
celebrity.
Before quitting the district, Scott had an opportunity of visiting the
old inn and posting establishment of Miss Ritchie in Peebles, then, and
for ten or twelve years later, the principal place of accommodation for
travellers. Miss Ritchie, an elderly lady, was somewhat of an original
in manner, and there can be little doubt that her peculiarities
furnished such recollections as were afterwards matured in the
character of ‘Meg Dods of the Cleikum Inn, St Ronans.’ Proceeding
southwards, the tourists at length reached Carlisle, and extended their
excursion to Penrith and other places of interest in Cumberland, where
an incident occurred that requires more than a casual notice.]
MARRIAGE.
Two children, a boy and girl, named Charpentier, of French parentage,
fell by circumstances under the guardianship of the Marquis of
Downshire. In time, the boy received a lucrative appointment in
India; on his naturalisation as a British subject, changing his
name to Carpenter. Miss Carpenter was placed under the charge of a
governess, Miss Nicholson, and, requiring a change of scene, was,
through the kindness of Lord Downshire, sent with her governess to
Cumberland, where she was to live in such pleasant rural spot as might
be found by the Rev. Mr Burd, Dean of Carlisle. The two ladies arrived
unexpectedly, when Mrs Burd was setting out for the sake of her health
to Gilsland. This was at the end of the month of August or beginning of
September 1797.
Having duly arrived at Gilsland, which is situated near the borders of
Scotland, they took up their residence at the inn, where, according to
the custom of such places, they were placed, as the latest guests, at
the bottom of the table. It chanced that three young Scottish gentlemen
had arrived the same afternoon, and being also placed at the bottom of
the table, one of them happened accidentally to come into close contact
with the party of Mr Burd. Enough of conversation took place during
dinner to let the latter individuals understand that the gentleman was
a Scotchman, and this was in itself the cause of the acquaintance being
protracted. Mrs Burd was intimate with a Scotch military gentleman,
a Major Riddell, whose regiment was then in Scotland; and as there
had been a collision between the military and the people at Tranent,
on account of the Militia Act, she was anxious to know if her friend
had been among those present, or if he had received any hurt. After
dinner, therefore, as they were rising from table, Mrs Burd requested
her husband to ask the Scotch gentleman if he knew anything of the
late riots, and particularly if a Major Riddell had been concerned in
suppressing them. On these questions being put, it was found that the
stranger knew Major Riddell intimately, and he was able to assure them,
in very courteous terms, that his friend was quite well. From a desire
to prolong the conversation on this point, the Burds invited their
informant to drink tea with them in their own room, to which he very
readily consented, notwithstanding that he had previously ordered his
horse to be brought to the door in order to proceed upon his journey.
At tea, their common acquaintance with Major Riddell furnished much
pleasant conversation, and the parties became so agreeable to each
other, that, in a subsequent walk to the Wells, the stranger still
accompanied Mr Burd’s party. He had now ordered his horse back to
the stable, and talked no more of continuing his journey. It may be
easily imagined that a desire of discussing the major was not _now_ the
sole bond of union between the parties. Mr Scott--for so he gave his
name--had been impressed, during the earlier part of the evening, with
the elegant and fascinating appearance of Miss Carpenter, and it was
on her account that he was lingering at Gilsland. Of this young lady,
it will be observed, he could have previously known nothing: she was
hardly known even to the respectable persons under whose protection she
appeared to be living. She was simply a lovely woman, and a young poet
was struck with her charms.
Next day Mr Scott was still found at the Wells--and the next--and
the next--in short, every day for a fortnight. He was as much in the
company of Mr Burd and his family as the equivocal foundation of their
acquaintance would allow; and by affecting an intention of speedily
visiting the Lakes, he even contrived to obtain an invitation to the
dean’s country house in that part of England. In the course of this
fortnight, the impression made upon his heart by the young Frenchwoman
was gradually deepened; and it is not improbable that the effect was
already in some degree reciprocal. He only tore himself away, in
consequence of a call to attend certain imperative matters of business
at Edinburgh.
It was not long ere he made his appearance at Mr Burd’s house, where,
though the dean had only contemplated a passing visit, as from a
tourist, he contrived to enjoy another fortnight of Miss Carpenter’s
society. In order to give a plausible appearance to his intercourse
with the young lady, he was perpetually talking to her in French, for
the ostensible purpose of perfecting his pronunciation of that language
under the instructions of one to whom it was a vernacular. Though
delighted with the lively conversation of the young Scotchman, Mr and
Mrs Burd could not now help feeling uneasy about his proceedings, being
apprehensive as to the construction which Lord Downshire would put upon
them, as well as upon their own conduct in admitting a person of whom
they knew so little to the acquaintance of his ward. Miss Nicholson’s
sentiments were, if possible, of a still more painful kind, as, indeed,
her responsibility was more onerous and delicate. In this dilemma, it
was resolved by Mrs Burd to write to a friend in Edinburgh, in order
to learn something of the character and status of their guest. The
answer returned was to the effect that Mr Scott was a respectable young
man, and rising at the bar. It chanced at the same time that one of Mr
Scott’s female friends, who did not, however, entertain this respectful
notion of him, hearing of some love adventure in which he had been
entangled at Gilsland, wrote to this very Mrs Burd, with whom she was
acquainted, inquiring if she had heard of such a thing, and ‘what kind
of a young lady was it, who was going to take Watty Scott?’ The poet
soon after found means to conciliate Lord Downshire to his views in
reference to Miss Carpenter, and the marriage took place at Carlisle
within four months of the first acquaintance of the parties. The match,
made up under such extraordinary circumstances, was a happy one; a kind
and gentle nature resided in the bosoms of both parties, and they lived
accordingly in the utmost peace and amity.
Scott now commenced house-keeping in Edinburgh, where he had hitherto
lived in the paternal mansion. We now see him as a young married man,
spending the winter in the bosom of a frugal but elegant society in
Edinburgh, and the summer months in a retired cottage on the beautiful
banks of the Esk at Lasswade; cultivating, as before, literary tastes,
and storing his mind with his favourite kind of learning, but not as
yet conscious of his active literary powers, or thinking of aught but
the duties of his profession and the claims of his little family. As
an advocate, he had perhaps some little employment at the provincial
sittings of the criminal court, and occasionally acted in unimportant
causes as a junior counsel; but he neither obtained, nor seemed
qualified to obtain, a sufficient share of general business to insure
an independence. The truth is, his mind was not yet emancipated from
that enthusiastic pursuit of knowledge which had distinguished his
youth. His necessities, with only himself to provide for, and a sure
retreat behind him in the comfortable circumstances of his native
home, were not so great as to make an exclusive application to his
profession imperative; and he therefore seemed destined to join what a
sarcastic barrister has termed ‘the ranks of the gentlemen who are not
anxious for business.’ Although he could speak readily and fluently at
the bar, his intellect was not at all of a forensic cast. He appeared
to be too much of the abstract and unworldly scholar, to assume
readily the habits of an adroit pleader; and even although he had been
perfectly competent to the duties, it is a question if his external
aspect and general reputation would have permitted the generality of
agents to intrust them to his hands. Nevertheless, on more than one
occasion, he made a considerable impression on his hearers. Once,
in particular, when acting as counsel for a culprit before the High
Court of Justiciary, he exerted such powers of persuasive oratory as
excited the admiration of the court. It happened that there was some
informality in the verdict of the jury, which at that time was always
given in writing. This afforded a still more favourable opportunity for
displaying his rhetorical powers than what had occurred in the course
of the trial, and the sensation which he produced was long remembered
by those who witnessed it. The panel, as the accused person is termed
in Scotland, was acquitted.
Simple and manly in habits, good-humoured, and averse to disputation,
full of delightful information, kind and obliging to all who came near
him, yet possessed of a rectitude and solidity of understanding which
never allowed him to be the fool of any of his feelings, it is no
wonder that Walter Scott was a general favourite, or that he attracted
the regard of several persons of rank, as the Duke of Buccleuch, Lord
Melville, and others. It was through the kindness of the first of these
noblemen that, in 1799, he obtained the appointment of sheriff of
Selkirkshire, an office of light duty, with a salary of £300 per annum.
In the same year, Scott lost his father, who died in his 70th year,
after a long period of suffering.
POEMS.