“I am quite delighted with the commencement of the
Melrose repairs, and hope to report progress before I leave the country, though
that must be on Monday next. Please God, I will be on the roof of the old Abbey
myself when the scaffolding is up. When I was a boy I could climb like a
wild-cat; and entire affection to the work on hand must on this occasion
counterbalance the disadvantages of increased weight and stiffened limbs. The
east and south windows certainly claim the preference in any repairs suggested;
the side aisles are also in a very bad way, but cannot in this summer weather
be the worse of delay. It is the rain that finds its way betwixt the
arch-stones in winter, and is there arrested by the frost, which ruins ancient
buildings when exposed to wet. Ice occupies more space than water unfrozen, and
thus, when formed, operates as so many wedges inserted between the stones of
the arch, which, of course, are dislocated by this interposition, and in
process of time the equilibrium of the arch is destroyed—Q. E. D. There spoke
the President of the R. S. E. The removal of the old roof would not be attended
with a penny of expense, nay, might be a saving were it thought proper to
replace the flags which now cover it upon the side aisles, where they certainly
originally lay. The ruble stones would do much more than pay the labourers. But
though this be the case, and though the beauty of the ruin would be greatly
increased, still I should first like to be well assured that the east window
was not thereby deprived of shelter. It is to be seriously weighed that the
architect who has shown so much skill, would not fail to modify the strength of
the different
| 184 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“We are not like to suffer on this occasion the mortification incurred by my old friend and kinsman Mr Keith of Ravelstone, a most excellent man, but the most irresolute in the world, more especially when the question was unloosing his purse strings. Conceiving himself to represent the great Earls-Marischal, and being certainly possessed of their castle and domains, he bethought him of the family vault, a curious Gothic building in the churchyard of Dunnotar: L.10 it was reported would do the job—my good friend proffered L.5—it would not do. Two years after he offered the full sum. A report was sent that the breaches were now so much increased that L.20 would scarce serve. Mr Keith humm’d and ha’d for three years more; then offered L.20. The wind and rain had not waited his decision—less than L.50 would not now serve. A year afterwards he sent a cheque for the L.50, which was returned by post, with the pleasing intelligence that the Earl-Marischal’s aisle had fallen the preceding week. Your Lordship’s prompt decision has probably saved Melrose Abbey from the same fate. I protest I often thought I was looking on it for the last time.
“I do not know how I could write in such a slovenly
way as to lead your Lordship to think that I could recommend planting even the
fertile soil of Bowden-moor in the month of April or May. Except evergreens, I
would never transplant a tree betwixt March and Martinmas. Indeed I hold by the
old proverb plant a tree before Candlemas, and command
it to grow—plant
| MELROSE ABBEY, &c. | 185 |
“I think I can read Lady Montagu’s dream, or your Lordship’s, or my own, or our common vision, without a Daniel coming to judgment, for I bethink me my promise related to some Botany Bay seeds, &c., sent me in gratitude by an honest gentleman who had once run some risk of being himself pendulous on a tree in this country. If they come to any thing pretty, we shall be too proud to have some of the produce at Ditton.
“Your hailstones have visited us—mingled, in Scripture phrase, with coals of fire. My uncle, now ninety-three years complete, lives in the house of Monklaw, where the offices were set on fire by the lightning. The old gentleman was on foot, and as active with his orders and directions as if he had been but forty-five. They wished to get him off, but he answered, ‘Na, na, lads, I have faced mony a fire in my time, and I winna turn my back on this ane.’ Was not this a good cut of an old Borderer?—Ever your Lordship’s faithful
