The Complete Autobiographical Writings of Sir Walter Scott. Walter Scott
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Master of Sinclair. I dallied with the precious time rather than used it. Read the two Roxburghe plays; they are by William Percy, a son of the eighth Earl of Northumberland; worthless and very gross, but abounding with matter concerning scenery, and so forth, highly interesting to the dramatic antiquary.
Note on the “grenadier accomplishment” mentioned in p. 30.
In a letter to the Duke of Buccleuch, of May 1818, Scott gives the following amusing account of an incident in the life of the Ettrick Shepherd: —
“Our poor friend Hogg has had an affair of honour…. Two mornings ago, about seven in the morning, my servant announced, while I was shaving in my dressing-room, that Mr. Hogg wished earnestly to speak with me. He was ushered in, and I cannot describe the half-startled, half-humorous air with which he said, scratching his head most vehemently, ‘Odd, Scott, here’s twae fo’k’s come frae Glasgow to provoke mey to fecht a duel.’ ‘A duel,’ answered I, in great astonishment, ‘and what do you intend to do?’ ‘Odd, I just locket them up in my room and sent the lassie for twae o’ the police, and just gie’d the men ower to their chairge, and I thocht I wad come and ask you what I should do….’ He had already settled for himself the question whether he was to fight or not, and all that he had to do was to go to the Police Office and tell the charge he had to bring against the two Glasgow gentlemen…. The Glaswegians were greatly too many for him [in Court]…. They returned in all triumph and glory, and Hogg took the wings of the morning and fled to his cottage at Altrive, not deeming himself altogether safe in the streets of Edinburgh! Now, although I do not hold valour to be an essential article in the composition of a man like Hogg, yet I heartily wish he could have prevailed on himself to swagger a little…. But considering his failure in the field and the Sheriff Office, I am afraid we must apply to Hogg the apology which is made for Waller by his biographer: ‘Let us not condemn him with untempered severity because he was not such a prodigy as the world has seldom seen — because his character included not the poet, the orator, and the hero.’“
October
October 1. — I set about work for two hours, and finished three pages; then walked for two hours; then home, adjusted sheriff processes, and cleared the table. I am to set off tomorrow for Ravensworth Castle, to meet the Duke of Wellington; a great let off, I suppose. Yet I would almost rather stay and see two days more of Lockhart and my daughter, who will be off before my return. Perhaps. But there is no end to perhaps. We must cut the rope and let the vessel drive down the tide of destiny.
October 2. — Set out in the morning at seven, and reached Kelso by a little past ten with my own horses. Then took the Wellington coach to carry me to Wellington — smart that. Nobody inside but an old lady, who proved a toy-woman in Edinburgh; her head furnished with as substantial ware as her shop, but a good soul, I’se warrant her. Heard all her debates with her landlord about a new door to the cellar, etc. etc.; propriety of paying rent on the 15th or 25th of May. Landlords and tenants have different opinions on that subject. Danger of dirty sheets in inns. We dined at Wooler, and I found out Dr. Douglas on the outside, son of my old acquaintance Dr. James Douglas of Kelso. This made us even lighter in mind till we came to Whittingham. Thence to Newcastle, where an obstreperous horse retarded us for an hour at least, to the great alarm of my friend the toy-woman. N.B. — She would have made a good featherbed if the carriage had happened to fall, and her undermost. The heavy roads had retarded us near an hour more, so that I hesitated to go to Ravensworth so late; but my good woman’s tales of dirty sheets, and certain recollections of a Newcastle inn, induced me to go on. When I arrived the family had just retired. Lord Ravensworth and Mr. Liddell came down, however, and really received me as kindly as possible.
October 3. — Rose about eight or later. My morals begin to be corrupted by travelling and fine company. Went to Durham with Lord Ravensworth betwixt one and two. Found the gentlemen of Durham county and town assembled to receive the Duke of Wellington. I saw several old friends, and with difficulty suited names to faces, and faces to names. There was Headlam, Dr. Gilly and his wife, and a world of acquaintance besides, Sir Thomas Lawrence too, with Lord Londonderry. I asked him to come on with me, but he could not. He is, from habit of coaxing his subjects I suppose, a little too fair-spoken, otherwise very pleasant. The Duke arrived very late. There were bells and cannon and drums, trumpets and banners, besides a fine troop of yeomanry. The address was well expressed, and as well answered by the Duke. The enthusiasm of the ladies and the gentry was great — the common people were lukewarm. The Duke has lost popularity in accepting political power. He will be more useful to his country it may be than ever, but will scarce be so gracious in the people’s eyes; and he will not care a curse for what outward show he has lost. But I must not talk of curses, for we are going to take our dinner with the Bishop of Durham, a man of amiable and courteous manners, who becomes his station well, but has traces of bad health on his countenance.
We dined, about one hundred and forty or fifty men, a distinguished company for rank and property. Marshal Beresford, and Sir John, amongst others, Marquis of Lothian, Lord Duncombe, Marquis Londonderry, and I know not who besides:
“Lords and Dukes and noble Princes,
All the pride and flower of Spain.”
We dined in the rude old baronial hall, impressive from its antiquity, and fortunately free from the plaster of former improvement, as I trust it will, from the gingerbread taste of modern Gothicisers. The bright moon streaming in through the old Gothic windows, made a light which contrasted strangely with the artificial lights within; spears, banners, and armour were intermixed with the pictures of old, and the whole had a singular mixture of baronial pomp with the graver and more chastened dignity of prelacy. The conduct of our reverend entertainer suited the character remarkably well. Amid the welcome of a Count Palatine he did not for an instant forget the gravity of the Church dignitary. All his toasts were gracefully given, and his little speeches well made, and the more affecting that the failing voice sometimes reminded us that our aged host laboured under the infirmities of advanced life. To me personally the Bishop was very civil, and paid me his public compliments by proposing my health in the most gratifying manner.
The Bishop’s lady received a sort of drawingroom after we rose from table, at which a great many ladies attended. I ought not to forget that the singers of the choir attended at dinner, and sung the Anthem Non nobis Domine, as they said who understood them, very well — and, as I think, who did not understand the music, with an unusual degree of spirit and interest. It is odd how this can be distinguished from the notes of fellows who use their throats with as little feeling of the notes they utter as if they were composed of the same metal as their bugle-horns.
After the drawingroom we went to the Assembly-rooms, which were crowded with company. I saw some very pretty girls dancing merrily that old-fashioned thing called a country-dance which Old England has now thrown aside, as she would do her creed, if there were some foreign frippery offered instead. We got away after midnight, a large party, and reached Ravensworth Castle — Duke of Wellington, Lord Londonderry, and about twenty besides — about halfpast one. Soda water, and to bed by two.
October 4. — Slept till nigh ten — fatigued by our toils of yesterday, and the unwonted late hours. Still too early for this Castle of Indolence, for I found few of last night’s party yet appearing. I had an opportunity of some talk with the Duke. He does not consider Foy’s book as written by himself, but as a thing got up perhaps from notes. Says he knew Foy very well in Spain. Mentioned that he was, like other French officers, very desirous of seeing the English papers, through which alone they could collect any idea of what was going on without their own cantonments, for Napoleon permitted no communication of that kind with France. The Duke, growing tired of this, at length told Baron Tripp, whose services he chiefly used in communication with the outposts, that he was not to give them the newspapers. “What reason shall I allege for withholding them?” said Baron Tripp. “None,” replied the Duke. “Let them allege some reason why they want them.” Foy was not at a loss to assign