biographically, as the following:
‘LONDON, _January 19, 1837_.
‘MY DEAR LAIDLAW--I received yesterday your letter and a very
munificent donation of ptarmigan, for both which accept my best
thanks. They were both welcome as remembrancers of Scotland,
of old days, and of your kindness and affection, of which last,
though I am the worst of correspondents, neither I nor my wife are
ever forgetful. The account you give of your situation at present
is, considering how the world wags, not unsatisfactory. Would it
were possible to find myself placed in something of a similar
locality, and with the means of enjoying the country by day and my
books at night, without the necessity of dividing most of my time
between the labours of the desk--mere drudge-labours mostly--and
the harassing turmoil of worldly society, for which I never had
much, and now-a-days have rarely indeed any, relish! But my wife
and children bind me to the bit, and I am well pleased with the
fetters. Walter is now a tall and very handsome boy of near eleven
years; Charlotte, a very winsome gipsy of eight--both intelligent
in the extreme, and both, notwithstanding all possible spoiling,
as simple, natural, and unselfish as if they had been bred on a
hillside and in a family of twelve. Sophia is your old friend--fat,
fair, and by-and-by to be forty, which I now am, and over, God
bless the mark! but though I think I am wiser, at least more sober,
neither richer nor more likely to be rich than I was in the days of
Chiefswood and Kaeside--after all, _our_ best days, I still believe.
‘Politics, over which we used sometimes to dispute, I have quite
forsworn. I have satisfied myself that the age of Toryism is by
for ever; and the business of a party which can in reason propose
to itself nothing but a defensive attitude, without hope either of
plunder or honour, seems to me to have few claims on those who,
when it was in power, never were permitted to share any of the
advantages it so lavishly bestowed on fools and knaves. So I am a
very tranquil and indifferent observer.
‘Perhaps, however, much of this equanimity as to passing affairs
has arisen from the call which has been made on me to live in
the past, bestowing for so many months all the time I could
command, and all the care I have had really any heart in, upon
the manuscript remains of our dear friend. I am glad that Cadell
and the few others who have seen what I have done with these are
pleased, but I assure you none of them can think more lightly of
my own part in the matter than I do myself. My sole object is to
do him justice, or rather to let him do himself justice, by so
contriving it that he shall be as far as possible, from first to
last, his own historiographer; and I have therefore willingly
expended the time that would have sufficed for writing a dozen
books on what will be no more than the compilation of one. A stern
sense of duty--that kind of sense of it which is combined with the
feeling of his actual presence in a serene state of elevation above
all terrestrial and temporary views--will induce me to touch the
few darker points in his life and character as freely as the others
which were so predominant; and my chief anxiety on the appearance
of the book will be, not to hear what is said by the world, but
what is _thought_ by you and the few others who can really compare
the representation as a whole with the facts of the case. I shall,
therefore, desire Cadell to send you the volumes as they are
printed, though long before publication, in the confidence that
they will be kept sacred, while unpublished, to yourself and your
own household; and if you can give me encouragement on seeing the
first and second, now I think nearly out of the printer’s hands,
it will be very serviceable to me in the completion of the others.
I have waived all my own notions as to the manner of publication,
&c., in deference to the bookseller,[15] who is still so largely
our creditor, and, I am grieved to add, will probably continue to
be so for many years to come.
‘Your letters of the closing period I wish you would send to me;
and of these I am sure some use, and some good use, may be made, as
of those addressed to myself at the same time, which all, however
melancholy to compare with those of the better day, have traces of
the man. Out of these confused and painful scraps I think I can
contrive to put together a picture that will be highly touching of
a great mind shattered, but never degraded, and always to the last
noble, as his heart continued pure and warm as long as it could
beat.--Ever affectionately yours,
J. G. LOCKHART.’
We are tempted to add a short extract from another letter of
Lockhart’s, because it mentions a pleasing incident in the life of the
second Sir Walter Scott. He writes, 25th May 1843, that Major Scott and
his wife enjoyed perfect health in India, and he adds: ‘He (Sir W. S.)
tells me that hearing a Highland battalion was to pass about fifty
miles off from his station (Bangalore), he rode that distance one day,
and back the next, merely to hear the _skirl_ of the pipes! No doubt
there would be a jolly mess for his reception besides; but I could not
but be pleased with the touch of the “auld man.”’
LUCY’S FLITTIN’.
‘’Twas when the wan leaf frae the birk-tree was fa’in,
And Martinmas dowie had wound up the year,
That Lucy row’d up her wee kist wi’ her a’ in ’t,
And left her auld master and neebours sae dear.
For Lucy had serv’d i’ the Glen[16] a’ the simmer;
She cam there afore the bloom cam on the pea;[17]
An orphan was she, an’ they had been gude till her;
Sure that was the thing brought the tear to her ee.
She gaed by the stable, where Jamie was stan’in’,
Right sair was his kind heart her flittin’ to see;
Fare ye weel, Lucy! quo’ Jamie, and ran in--
The gatherin’ tears trickled fast frae her ee.
As down the burn-side she gaed slow wi’ her flittin’,
Fare ye weel, Lucy! was ilka bird’s sang;
She heard the craw sayin ’t, high on the tree sittin’,
And Robin was chirpin ’t the brown leaves amang.
O what is’t that pits my puir heart in a flutter?
And what gars the tears come sae fast to my ee?
If I wasna ettled to be ony better,
Then what gars me wish ony better to be?
I ’m just like a lammie that loses its mither,
Nae mither nor frien’ the poor lammie can see;
I fear I hae tint my bit heart a’ thegither;
Nae wonder the tear fa’s sae fast frae my ee.
Wi’ the rest o’ my claes, I hae row’d up the ribbon,
The bonnie blue ribbon that Jamie gae me;
Yestreen, when he gae me ’t, and saw I was sabbin’,
I’ll never forget the wae blink o’ his ee.
Though now he said naething but Fare ye weel, Lucy!
It made me I neither could speak, hear, nor see;
He couldna say mair but just Fare ye weel, Lucy!
Yet that I will mind till the day that I dee.
The lamb likes the gowan wi’ dew when it’s droukit;
The hare likes the brake and the braird on the lea;
But Lucy likes Jamie;--she turn’d, and she lookit;
She thought the dear place she wad never mair see!’
In publishing the ballad, Hogg added the following verse, in order,
as he said, to _complete the story_; but it will be felt, we think,
that he has marred the pathetic simplicity of the original, which was
complete enough as a picture of the flittin’:
‘Ah, weel may young Jamie gang dowie and cheerless,
And weel may he greet on the bank o’ the burn!
His bonnie sweet Lucy, sae gentle and peerless,
Lies cauld in her grave, and will never return.’
Lockhart has truly characterised Laidlaw’s ballad as ‘a simple and
pathetic picture of a poor Ettrick maiden’s feelings in leaving a
service where she had been happy,’ and he adds that it has ‘long been
and must ever be a favourite with all who understand the delicacies
of the Scottish dialect, and the manners of the district in which the
scene is laid.’ A no less flattering or discriminating notice had
been previously given by a critic in the _Edinburgh Review_, who, in
quoting _one_ song from the four volumes of Allan Cunningham’s _Songs
of Scotland, Ancient and Modern_, selected Laidlaw’s ‘simple ditty’ as
a ‘fair example of the lowly pathetic’ which would ‘go to the heart of
many a village-bred Scotchman in remote regions and all conditions of
society.’
THE END.
Edinburgh:
Printed by W. & R. Chambers.
FOOTNOTES
[1] This print, glazed in a black frame, was presented by Sir Adam
Ferguson to my brother Robert, and it is now in my possession.--W. C.
[2] [For a number of years after the decease of Sir Walter, there were
many small floating anecdotes and memorabilia of his habits, and the
happy way in which he would make some pleasantry out of very ordinary
occurrences. Two or three instances occur to recollection.--One
day, when walking along Princes Street, Edinburgh, my brother, who
accompanied him, made the remark that he was evidently well known,
for many persons looked back at him on passing. ‘Oh, ay, ay,’ replied
Scott jocosely; ‘more know Tom Fool than Tom Fool knows!’--The late Mr
Thomas Tegg, publisher, Cheapside, having, on the occasion of visiting
Scotland, ventured with a friend to call on Sir Walter at Abbotsford,
was somewhat doubtful of his reception, for he had published a small
book in doggerel verse, designed to bring Scott’s muse into ridicule.
He was speedily relieved of his apprehensions. ‘I am sorry to say,’
said Tegg apologetically, ‘that I happen to be the publisher of
_Jokeby, a Burlesque on Rokeby_.’ ‘Glad to see you, Mr Tegg,’ replied
Sir Walter; ‘the more jokes the better!’--Mrs John Ballantyne, in
her reminiscences of Scott, states that, besides his story-telling
manner, he had another quite distinct, in which he was accustomed to
utter any snatch of poetry, such as a verse of a Border ballad, or a
simple but touching popular rhyme. ‘I can never forget,’ she says,
‘the awe-striking solemnity with which he pronounced an elegiac stanza
inscribed on a tombstone in Melrose Abbey:
“Earth walketh on the earth
Glistering like gold;
Earth goeth to the earth
Sooner than it wold.
Earth buildeth on the earth
Palaces and towers;
Earth sayeth to the earth,
All shall be ours.”’
--On the occasion of an excursion with a friend to Dumfriesshire and
Galloway, Scott’s money happened to run out; and he borrowed from his
companion a pound-note at Tinwald Manse, and two pounds at the inn of
Beattock Bridge. The payment of the loan became the subject of a bit
of pleasantry. Returning home, he enclosed three pounds to his friend,
with the following lines:
‘One at Tinwald Manse, and two at Beattock Brig,
That makes three, if Cocker’s worth a fig;
Borrow while you may, pay when you can,
And at the last you’ll die an honest man!’]
[3]
‘From Soldan Turk I this Forest wan
When the king and his men was not to see.’
In the copy printed in the _Border Minstrelsy_, this is _Soudron_--i.
e., Southron or English, which I have no doubt is the proper
reading.--_Aytoun._
[4] The Shepherd’s conjecture proved correct. Mr Aytoun procured his
copy of the ballad from the charter-chest at Philiphaugh. The copy in
the _Border Minstrelsy_ was printed from one found among the papers of
Mrs Cockburn, authoress of _The Flowers of the Forest_.
[5] MS. notes by W. Laidlaw. Professor Aytoun says that one cause of
his doubts as to the antiquity of _Auld Maitland_ was that it wanted
a clear intelligible story and main plot, so that it could not be
retained in memory for a couple of months. If the Professor (alas,
now no more!) had chanced, in any of his angling excursions on the
Tweed, to have fallen in with a brother of the rod, Mr Stirling, Depute
Sheriff-clerk of Peebles (also now gone), he would have found at least
one gentleman who could repeat the whole ballad without a break, though
he had not read a line of it for more than twenty years. Hogg states
explicitly that when the sheriff visited his cottage at Ettrick,
his mother recited or chanted the ballad; and in a poetical address
to Scott congratulating him on his elevation to the baronetcy, the
Shepherd says:
‘When Maitland’s song first met your ear,
How the furled visage up did clear,
Beaming delight! though now a shade
Of doubt would darken into dread,
That some unskilled presumptuous arm
Had marred tradition’s mighty charm.
Scarce drew thy lurking dread the less
Till she, the ancient Minstreless,
With fervid voice and kindling eye,
And withered arms waving on high,
Sung forth these words in eldritch shriek,
While tears stood on thy nut-brown cheek:
“Na, we are nane o’ the lads o’ France,
Nor e’er pretend to be;
We be three lads of fair Scotland,
Auld Maitland’s sons a’ three!”
Thy fist made all the table ring--
“By ----, sir, but that is the thing!”’
[6] _Marmion_--Introduction to Canto II.
[7] He rarely made corrections on his published works, but there is one
alteration worth noting in the opening of this Introduction. In the
first edition he says: ‘From the remote period when the Roman deity
TERMINUS retired behind the ramparts of SEVERUS,’ &c. This seemed a
little inflated, and also inappropriate, for it represents Terminus as
if capable of motion, though the Romans represented the god as wanting
legs and arms, to shew that he was immovable; and Scott reduced the
illustration to sober historical limits: ‘From the remote period when
the Roman province was contracted by the ramparts of SEVERUS,’ &c.
[8] _Marmion_: Introd. to Canto II. When the poem was published, its
author wrote to his friend at Blackhouse: ‘This accompanies a copy
of _Marmion_, which I will see put up with my own eyes. Constable is
greatly too busy to be uniformly accurate.’
[9] Letter to Hon. Mrs Stewart Mackenzie.
[10] Seaforth Papers at Brahan Castle, Ross-shire.
[11] The Burghers were a religious sect, now merged in the United
Presbyterian body.
[12] Letter to Hon. Mrs Stewart Mackenzie.
[13] Lockhart also was in favour of a cairn: ‘As to monuments, if I
could choose--passing Abbotsford--I should say, put a plain sitting
statue of Sir W. S. on Princes Street, Edinburgh, at the south end
of Castle Street, backed by the rock; and put a cairn on the Eildon
Hill, that every lad might carry his stone to. As for _temples_ and
_pillars_, they have been vulgarised in Edinburgh. A friend said to
me: ‘Good God, what a grand thing it will be to have Sir Walter put
on a level with the late Lord Melville! Let us have another pillar at
the west end of George Street, by all means.’ This man is a sensible
one, and was dead serious. On a level with Lord Melville, whose name
will appear only in the fag-end of a note to the future history of
this country, and really will be kept in memory chiefly by the pillar!
Dugald Stewart and Playfair, admirable dominies both, have their
temples; so I fancy will now Sir John Leslie. The Calton Hill had
better be left to the schoolmasters; in a hundred years they will have
covered it; but, if they please, they may keep a place in the midst for
Sir John Sinclair.’--_Letter to Hon. Mrs Stewart Mackenzie._
[14] Vide _Quarterly Review_, June 1849.
[15] Mr Cadell. In the autumn of the same year, the enterprising
bookseller writes to Laidlaw: ‘Strange that all the Ballantynes and
Constable are gone, and I am left alone of those behind the curtain
during so many critical years! Born at Cockenzie, in East Lothian,
educated for business above five years in Glasgow, I came here’ [to
Edinburgh] ‘a raw young man of twenty-one in the winter of 1809–10, and
have cuckooed all these men out of their nests, firmly seated in which
they all were at that time. And here is Lockhart telling about all of
us to posterity. We will all be handed down as appendages to the great
man!’ Mr Cadell died January 20, 1849, having, it is said, made about
£100,000 in business, chiefly by Scott’s works. ‘Our late illustrious
friend used to joke me about a Waverley Cottage or Waverley Hall: I am
now rated for a palace!’ (Cadell to Laidlaw, July 1834.) Latterly, he
was proprietor of the estate of Ratho, near Edinburgh.
[16] The Glen is a small mountain valley on the banks of the Quair,
about four and a half miles from Innerleithen. A magnificent residence
has been built on the estate by the proprietor, Charles Tennant, Esq.
Vide description and engraving in Chambers’s _History of Peeblesshire_.
[17] Hogg altered this line as follows:
‘She cam there afore the flower bloom’d on the pea.’
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they
were not changed.
Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation
marks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left
unbalanced.