Walter Scott - The Man Behind the Books. Walter Scott
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crumb for all that. I eat very little at dinner, and can’t abide to be confined in my hearty breakfast. The work goes on as task-work must, slow, sure, and I trust not drowsy, though the author is. I sent off to Dionysius Lardner (Goodness be with us, what a name!) as far as page thirty-eight inclusive, but I will wait to add tomorrow’s quota. I had a long walk with Tom. I am walking with more pleasure and comfort to myself than I have done for many a day. May Heaven continue this great mercy, which I have so much reason to be thankful for!
July 17. — - We called at Chiefswood and asked Captain Hamilton, and Mrs. H., and Mrs. Hemans, to dinner on Monday. She is a clever person, and has been pretty. I had a long walk with her tête-à-tête. She told me of the peculiar melancholy attached to the words no more. I could not help telling, as a different application of the words, how an old dame riding home along Cockenzie Sands, pretty bowsy, fell off the pillion, and her husband, being in good order also, did not miss her till he came to Prestonpans. He instantly returned with some neighbours, and found the good woman seated amidst the advancing tide, which began to rise, with her lips ejaculating to her cummers, who she supposed were still pressing her to another cup, “Nae ae drap mair, I thank you kindly.” We dined in family, and all well.
July 18. — - A Sunday with alternate showers and sunshine. Wrote double task, which brings me to page forty-six inclusive. I read the Spaewife of Galt. There is something good in it, and the language is occasionally very forcible, but he has made his story difficult to understand, by adopting a region of history little known, and having many heroes of the same name, whom it is not easy to keep separate in one’s memory. Some of the traits of the Spaewife, who conceits herself to be a changeling or twin, are very good indeed. His Highland Chief is a kind of Caliban, and speaks, like Caliban, a jargon never spoken on earth, but full of effect for all that.
July 19. — I finished two leaves this morning, and received the Hamiltons and Mrs. Hemans to breakfast. Afterwards we drove to Yarrow and showed Mrs. Hemans the lions. The party dined with us, and stayed till evening. Of course no more work.
July 20. — A rainy day, and I am very drowsy and would give the world to — — . [**Note: dash is a blank space] I wrote four leaves, however, and then my understanding dropped me. I have made up for yesterday’s short task.
NOTE. — From July 20th, 1329, to May 23d, 1830, there are no entries in the Journal, but during that time Sir Walter met with a sad loss. He was deprived of his humble friend and staunch henchman, Thomas Purdie. The following little note to Laidlaw shows how keenly he felt his death: —
“MY DEAR WILLIE, — I write to tell you the shocking news of poor Tom Purdie’s death, by which I have been greatly affected. He had complained, or rather spoken, of a sore throat; and the day before yesterday, as it came on a shower of rain, I wanted him to walk fast on to Abbotsford before me, but you know well how impossible that was. He took some jelly, or trifle of that kind, but made no complaint. This morning he rose from bed as usual, and sat down by the table with his head on his hand; and when his daughter spoke to him, life had passed away without a sigh or groan. Poor fellow! There is a heart cold that loved me well, and, I am sure, thought of my interest more than his own. I have seldom been so much shocked. I wish you would take a ride down and pass the night. There is much I have to say, and this loss adds to my wish to see you. We dine at four. The day is indifferent, but the sooner the better. — Yours very truly,
“WALTER SCOTT.
“31st (sic) October,” Qy. 29th.
To Mr. Cadell, a few days later, he says, “I have lost my old and faithful servant, my factotum, and am so much shocked that I really wish to be quit of the country. I have this day laid him in the grave.”
On coming to Edinburgh, Sir Walter found that his old friend and neighbour Lady Jane Stuart was no longer there to welcome him. She also had died somewhat suddenly on October 28th, and was buried at Invermay on November 4th.
1830 — May
May 23, [Abbotsford.] — About a year ago I took the pet at my Diary, chiefly because I thought it made me abominably selfish; and that by recording my gloomy fits I encouraged their recurrence, whereas out of sight, out of mind, is the best way to get rid of them; and now I hardly know why I take it up again; but here goes. I came here to attend Raeburn’s funeral. I am near of his kin, my great-grandfather, Walter Scott, being the second son or first cadet of this small family. My late kinsman was also married to my aunt, a most amiable old lady. He was never kind to me, and at last utterly ungracious. Of course I never liked him, and we kept no terms. He had forgot, though, an infantine cause of quarrel, which I always remembered. When I was four or five years old I was staying at Lessudden House, an old mansion, the abode of this Raeburn. A large pigeon-house was almost destroyed with starlings, then a common bird, though now seldom seen. They were seized in their nests and put in a bag, and I think drowned, or threshed to death, or put to some such end. The servants gave one to me, which I in some degree tamed, and the brute of a laird seized and wrung its neck. I flew at his throat like a wild cat, and was torn from him with no little difficulty. Long afterwards I did him the mortal offence to recall some superiority which my father had lent to the laird to make up a qualification, which he meant to exercise by voting for Lord Minto’s interest against poor Don. This made a total breach between two relations who had never been friends, and though I was afterwards of considerable service to his family, he kept his illhumour, alleging justly enough that I did these kind actions for the sake of his wife and family, not for his benefit. I now saw him at the age of eighty-two or three deposited in the ancestral grave. Dined with my cousins, and returned to Abbotsford about eight o’clock.
May 24, [Edinburgh]. — Called on my neighbour Nicol Milne of Faldonside, to settle something about the road to Selkirk. Afterwards went to Huntly Burn and made my compliments to the family. Lunched at halfpast two and drove to town, calling at George Square on Gala. He proposed to give up the present road to Selkirk in favour of another on the north side of the river, to be completed by two bridges. This is an object for Abbotsford. In the evening came to town. Letter from Mr. H[aydon] soliciting £20. Wait till Lockhart comes.
May 25. — Got into the old mill this morning, and grind away. Walked in very bad day to George Square from the Parliament House, through paths once familiar, but not trod for twenty years. Met Scott of Woll and Scott of Gala, and consulted about the new road between Galashiels and Selkirk. I am in hopes to rid myself of the road to Selkirk, which goes too near me at Abbotsford. Dined at Lord Chief Commissioner’s, where we met the new Chief Baron Abercromby and his lady. I thought it was the first time we had met for above forty years, but he put me in mind we had dined one day at John Richardson’s.
May 26. — Wrought with proofs, etc., at the Demonology, which is a cursed business to do neatly. I must finish it though, for I need money. I went to the Court; from that came home, and scrambled on with half writing, half reading, half idleness till evening. I have laid aside smoking much; and now, unless tempted by company, rarely take a cigar. I was frightened by a species of fit which I had in February, which took from me my power of speaking. I am told it is from the stomach. It looked woundy like palsy or apoplexy. Well, be it what it will, I can stand it.
May 27. — Court as usual. I am agitating a proposed retirement from the Court. As they are only to have four instead of six Clerks of Session in Scotland, it will be their interest to let me retire on a superannuation. Probably I shall make a bad bargain, and get only twothirds of the salary, instead of three-fourths. This would be hard, but I could save between two and three hundred pounds by giving up town residence; and surely I could do enough with my time at reviews and other ways, so as to make myself comfortable at Abbotsford. At any rate, jacta est aha; Sir Robert Peel and the Advocate seem to acquiesce in the arrangement, and Sir Robert Dundas retires alongst with me. I think the difference will be infinite in point of health and happiness.
May 28. — Wrought in the morning, then the Court,