| [ 361 ] |
His friend Sir Frederick
Adam had urgently invited Sir Walter to
visit the Ionian Islands, and he had consented to do so. But Sir
Frederick was suddenly recalled from that government, and appointed to one
in India, and the Greek scheme dropt. From that time his companions ceased to contend
against his wishes for returning home. Since he would again work, what good end could it
serve to keep him from working at his own desk? And as their entreaties, and the warnings
of foreign doctors, proved alike unavailing as to the regulation of his diet, what
remaining chance could there be on that score, unless from replacing him under the eye of
the friendly physicians whose authority had formerly seemed to have due influence on his
mind? He had wished to return by the route of the Tyrol and Germany, partly for the sake of
the remarkable chapel and monuments of the old Austrian princes at Inspruck, and the feudal
ruins upon the Rhine, but chiefly that he might have an interview with Goethe at Weimar. That poet died on the 22d of March, and
the
| 362 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
When the season was sufficiently advanced, then, the party set out, Mr Charles Scott having obtained leave to accompany his father; which was quite necessary, as his elder brother had already been obliged to rejoin his regiment. They quitted Naples on the 16th of April, in an open barouche, which could at pleasure be converted into a bed.
It will be seen from some Memoranda about to be quoted, that Sir Walter was somewhat interested by a few of the objects
presented to him in the earlier stages of his route. The certainty that he was on his way
home for a time soothed and composed him; arid amidst the agreeable society which again
surrounded him on his arrival in Rome, he seemed perhaps as much of himself as he had ever
been in Malta or in Naples. For a moment even his literary hope and ardour appear to have
revived. But still his daughter entertained no doubt, that his consenting to pause for even
a few days in Rome, was dictated mainly by consideration of her natural curiosity.
Sir William Gell went to Rome about the same
time; and Sir Walter was introduced there to another accomplished
countryman, who exerted himself no. less than did Sir William, to
render his stay agreeable to him. This was Mr Edward
Cheney—whose family had long been on terms of very strict intimacy with the
Maclean Clephanes of Torloisk, so that
Sir Walter was ready to
| ROME. | 363 |
“At Rome” (says Gell) “Sir Walter found an apartment provided for him in the Casa Bernini. On his arrival, he seemed to have suffered but little from the journey; though I believe the length of time he was obliged to sit in a carriage had been occasionally the cause of troublesome symptoms. I found him, however, in very good spirits, and as he was always eager to see any spot remarkable as the scene of particular events recorded in history, so he was keenly bent on visiting the house where Benvenuto Cellini writes that he slew the Constable of Bourbon with a bullet fired from the Castle of St Angelo. The Chevalier Luigi Chiaveri took him to the place, of which, though he quickly forgot the position, he yet retained the history firmly fixed in his mind, and to which he very frequently recurred.
“The introduction of Mr Cheney was productive of great pleasure to Sir Walter, as he possessed at that moment the Villa Muti, at Frescati, which had been for many years the favourite residence of the Cardinal of York, who was Bishop of Tusculum.
“Soon after his arrival I took Sir Walter to St Peter’s, which he had
resolved to visit, that he might see the tomb of the last of the Stuarts. I
took him to one of the side doors, in order to shorten the walk, and by great
good fortune met with Colonel Blair and
Mr Phillips, under whose protection he accomplished
his purpose. We contrived to tie a glove round the point of his stick, to
prevent his slipping in some degree, but to conduct him was really a service of
danger and alarm, owing to his infirmity and total want of caution. He has been
censured for not having frequently visited the treasures of the Vatican but by
those only who were
| 364 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“On the 8th of May we all dined at the Palace of the Duchess Torlonia with a very large company. The dinner was very late and very splendid, and from the known hospitality of the family it was probable that Sir Walter, in the heat of conversation, and with servants on all sides pressing him to eat and drink, as is their custom at Rome, might be induced to eat more than was safe for his malady. Colonel Blair, who sat next him, was requested to take care that this should not happen. Whenever I observed him, however, Sir Walter appeared always to be eating; while the Duchess, who had discovered the nature of the office imposed on the Colonel, was by no means satisfied, and after dinner observed that it was an odd sort of friendship which consisted in starving one’s neighbour to death when he had a good appetite, and there was dinner enough.
“It was at this entertainment that Sir Walter met with the Duke and Duchess
of Corchiano, who were both well read in his works, and
delighted to have been in company with him. This acquaintance might have led to
some agreeable consequences had Sir
Walter’s life been spared, for the Duke told him he was
possessed of a vast collection of papers, giving true accounts of all the
murders, poisonings, intrigues, and curious adventures of all the great Roman
families during many centuries, all which were at his service to copy and
publish in his own way as historical romances, only disguising the names, so
| ROME. | 365 |
“The eldest son of the Torlonia family is the possessor of the castle of Bracciano, of which he is duke. Sir Walter was anxious to see it, and cited some story, I think of the Orsini, who once were lords of the place. We had permission to visit the castle, and the steward had orders to furnish us with whatever was requisite. We set off on the 9th of May, Sir Walter as usual coming with me, and two ladies and two gentlemen occupying his carriage. One of these last was the son of the Duke of Sermoneta, Don Michelangelo Gaetani, a person of the most amiable disposition, gentlemanly manners, and most remarkable talents. Sir Walter, to whom he had paid every attention during his stay at Rome, had conceived a high opinion of him, and, added to his agreeable qualities, he had a wonderful and accurate knowledge of the history of his own country during the darker ages. The Gaetani figured also among the most ancient and most turbulent of the Roman families during the middle ages, and these historical qualities, added to the amenity of his manners, rendered him naturally a favourite with Sir Walter.
| 366 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“We arrived at Bracciano, twenty-five miles from
Rome, rather fatigued with the roughness of an old Roman road, the pavement of
which had generally been half destroyed, and the stones left in disorder on the
spot. He was pleased with the general appearance of that stately pile, which is
finely seated upon a rock, commanding on one side the view of the beautiful
lake with its wooded shores, and on the other overlooking the town of
Bracciano. A carriage could not easily ascend to the court, so that Sir Walter fatigued himself still more, as he was
not content to be assisted, by walking up the steep and somewhat long ascent to
the gateway. He was struck with the sombre appearance of the Gothic towers,
built with the black lava which had once formed the pavement of the Roman road,
and which adds much to its frowning magnificence. In the interior he could not
but be pleased with the grand suite of state apartments, all yet habitable, and
even retaining in some rooms the old furniture and the rich silk hangings of
the Orsini and Odescalchi. These
chambers overlook the lake, and Sir Walter sat in a window
for a long time, during a delightful evening, to enjoy the prospect. A very
large dog, of the breed called Danish, coming to fawn upon him, he told it he
was glad to see it, for it was a proper accompaniment to such a castle, but
that he had a larger dog at home, though may be not so good-natured to
strangers. This notice of the dog seemed to gain the heart of the steward, and
he accompanied Sir Walter in a second tour through the
grand suite of rooms, each, as Sir Walter observed, highly
pleased with the other’s conversation, though as one spoke French and the
other Italian, little of it could be understood. Toward the town, a range of
smaller apartments are more convenient, except during the heats of summer, than
the great rooms for a small party, and in these we dined and found chambers for
| ROME—BRACCIANO. | 367 |
“On coming down next morning I found that Sir Walter, who rose early, had already made another tour over part of the Castle with the steward and the dog. After breakfast we set out on our return to Rome; and all the way his conversation was more delightful, and more replete with anecdotes than I had ever known it. He talked a great deal to young Gaetani who sat on the box, and he invited him to Scotland. He asked me when I thought of revisiting England, and I replied, that if my health permitted at a moment when I could afford it, I might perhaps be tempted in the course of the following summer. ‘If the money be the difficulty,’ said the kind-hearted baronet, ‘don’t let that hinder you; I’ve L.300 at your service, and I have a perfect right to give it you, and nobody can complain of me, for I made it myself.’
“He continued to press my acceptance of this sum, till I requested him to drop the subject, thanking him most gratefully for his goodness, and much flattered by so convincing a proof of his desire to see me at Abbotsford.
“I remember particularly a remark, which proved
the kindness of his heart. A lady requested him to do something which was very
disagreeable to him. He was asked whether he had consented. He replied,
‘Yes.’ He was then questioned why he had agreed to do
what was so
| 368 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“I took my leave of my respected friend on the 10th May, 1832. I knew this great genius and estimable man but for a short period; but it was at an interesting moment, and being both invalids, and impressed equally with the same conviction that we had no time to lose, we seemed to become intimate without passing through the usual gradations of friendship. I remembered just enough of Scottish topography and northern antiquities in general to be able to ask questions on subjects on which his knowledge was super-eminent, and to be delighted and edified by his inexhaustible stock of anecdotes, and his curious and recondite erudition; and this was perhaps a reason for the preference he seemed to give me in his morning drives, during which I saw most of him alone. It is a great satisfaction to have been intimate with so celebrated and so benevolent a personage; and I hope, that these recollections of his latter days, may not be without their value, in enabling those who were acquainted with Sir Walter in his most brilliant period, to compare it with his declining moments during his residence in Italy.”
Though some of the same things recur in the notes with which I am favoured by Mr Cheney, yet the reader will pardon this and even be glad to compare the impressions of two such observers. Mr Cheney says:—
“Delighted as I was to see Sir Walter Scott, I remarked with pain the ravages disease had
made upon him. He was often abstracted, and it was only when warmed with his
subject that the light blue
| ROME. | 369 |
“The first of May was appointed for a visit to Frescati; and it gave me great pleasure to have an opportunity of showing attention to Sir Walter without the appearance of obtrusiveness.
“The Villa Muti, which belonged to the late Cardinal of York, has, since his death, fallen into the hands of several proprietors; it yet retains, however, some relics of its former owner. There is a portrait of Charles I., a bust of the Cardinal, and another of the Chevalier de St George. But, above all, a picture of the fête given on the promotion of the Cardinal in the Piazza de S. S. Apostoli (where the palace in which the Stuarts resided still bears the name of the Palazzo del Pretendente) occupied Sir Walter’s attention. In this picture he discovered, or fancied he did so, the portraits of several of the distinguished followers of the exiled family. One he pointed out as resembling a picture he had seen of Cameron of Lochiel, whom he described as a dark, hard-featured man. He spoke with admiration of his devoted loyalty to the Stuarts. I also showed him an ivory head of Charles I., which had served as the top of Cardinal York’s walking stick. He did not fail to look at it with a lively interest.
“He admired the house, the position of which is of
surpassing beauty, commanding an extensive view over the Campagna of Rome; but
he deplored the fate of his favourite princes, observing that this was a poor
substitute for all the splendid palaces to which they were heirs in England and
Scotland. The place where we were suggested the topic of conversation. He was
walking, he told me, over the field of Preston, and musing on the unlooked-for
event of that day, when he was suddenly startled by the sound of the
minute-guns pro-
| 370 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“During this visit Sir Walter was in excellent spirits; at dinner he talked and laughed, and Miss Scott assured me she had not seen him so gay since he left England. He put salt into his soup before tasting it, smiling as he did so. One of the company said, that a friend of his used to declare that he should eat salt with a limb of Lot’s wife. Sir Walter laughed, observing that he was of Mrs Siddons’ mind, who, when dining with the Provost of Edinburgh, and being asked by her host if the beef were too salt, replied, in her emphatic tones of deep tragedy, which Sir Walter mimicked very comically,
‘Beef cannot be too salt for me, my lord.’ |
“Sir Walter, though he spoke no foreign language with facility, read Spanish as well as Italian. He expressed the most unbounded admiration for Cervantes, and said that the ‘novelas’ of that author had first inspired him with the ambition of excelling in fiction, and that, until disabled by illness, he had been a constant reader of them. He added, that he had formerly made it a practice to read through the ‘Orlando’ of Boiardo, and the ‘Orlando’ of Ariosto, once every year.
“Of Dante he
knew little, confessing he found him too obscure and difficult. I was sitting
next him at
| ROME—MR CHENEY. | 371 |
‘Quell’ altro, che nei fianchi & cosi
poco,
Michele Scotto fu,
che veramente Delle magiche frode seppe il gioco.’ |
“One evening when I was with him, a person called to petition him in favour of the sufferers from the recent earthquake at Foligno. He instantly gave his name to the list with a very handsome subscription. This was by no means the only occasion on which I observed him ready and eager to answer the calls of charity.
“I accompanied Sir
Walter and Miss Scott one
morning to the Protestant burial-ground. The road to this spot runs by the side
of the Tyber, at the foot of Mount Aventine, and in our drive we passed several
of the most interesting monuments of ancient Rome. The house of the
Tribune Rienzi, and the temple of Vesta, arrested his
attention. This little circular temple, he said, struck him more than many of
the finer ruins. Infirmity had checked his curiosity. ‘I walk with
pain,’ he said, ‘and what we see whilst suffering makes
little impression on us; it is for this reason that much of what I saw at
Naples, and which I should have en-
| 372 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“We spoke of politics, and of the reform in Parliament, which at that time was pending. I asked his opinion of it; he said he was no enemy to reform—‘If the machine does not work well, it must be mended—but it should be by the best workmen ye have.’
“He regretted not having been at Holland House as he passed through London. ‘Lord Holland,’ he said, ‘is the most agreeable man I ever knew; in criticism, in poetry, he beats those whose whole study they have been. No man in England has a more thorough knowledge of English authors, and he expresses himself so well, that his language illustrates and adorns his thoughts, as light streaming through coloured glass heightens the brilliancy of the objects it falls upon.’
“On the 4th of May he accepted a dinner at our
house, and it gave my brother and myself
unfeigned satisfaction to have again the pleasure of entertaining him. We
collected a party to meet him, and amongst others I invited Don Luigi
Santa Croce, one of his most ardent admirers, who had long
desired an introduction. He is a man of much ability, and has played his part
in the political changes of his country. When
| ROME—MR CHENEY. | 373 |
“Sir Walter
always showed much curiosity about the
| 374 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“I continued a constant visiter at his house
whilst he remained in Rome, and I also occasionally dined in his company, and
took every opportunity of conversing with him. I observed with extreme
pleasure, that he accepted willingly from me those trifling attentions which
his infirmities required, and which all would have been delighted to offer. I
found him always willing to converse on any topic. He spoke of his own works
and of himself without reserve; never, however, introducing the subject nor
dwelling upon it. His conversation had neither affectation nor restraint, and
he was totally free from the morbid egotism of some men of genius. What
surprised me most, and in one too who had so long been the object of universal
admiration, was the unaf-
| ROME—MR CHENEY. | 375 |
“I asked him if he meant to be presented at the Vatican, as I knew that his arrival had been spoken of, and that the Pope had expressed an interest about him. He said he respected the Pope as the most ancient sovereign in Europe, and should have great pleasure in paying his respects to him, did his state of health permit it. We talked of the ceremonies of the Church. He had been much struck with the benediction from the balcony of St Peter’s. I advised him to wait to see the procession of the Corpus Domini, and to hear the Pope
‘Saying the high, high mass, All on St Peter’s day.’ |
| 376 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“The morning after our arrival at Bracciano, when I left my room, I found Sir Walter already dressed, and seated in the deep recess of a window which commands an extensive view over the lake and surrounding country. He speculated on the lives of the turbulent lords of this ancient fortress, and listened with interest to such details as I could give him of their history. He drew a striking picture of the contrast between the calm and placid scene before us, and the hurry, din, and tumult of other days.
“Insensibly we strayed into more modern times. I never saw him more animated and agreeable. He was exactly what I could imagine him to have been in his best moments. Indeed I have several times heard him complain that his disease sometimes confused and bewildered his senses, while at others he was left with little remains of illness, except a consciousness of his state of infirmity. He talked of his Northern journey, of Manzoni, for whom he expressed a great admiration, of Lord Byron, and lastly of himself. Of Lord Byron he spoke with admiration and regard, calling him always ‘poor Byron.’ He considered him, he said, the only poet we have had since Dryden, of transcendent talents, and possessing more amiable qualities than the world in general gave him credit for.
“In reply to my question if he had never seriously
thought of complying with the advice so often given him to write a tragedy, he
answered ‘Often, but the difficulty deterred me—my turn was not
dramatic.’ Some of the mottoes, I urged, prefixed to the chapters
of his novels, and subscribed ‘old play,’ were eminently in the
taste of the old dramatists, and seemed to ensure success. ‘Nothing so
easy,’ he replied, ‘when you are full of an author, as
to write a few lines in his taste and style; the difficulty is to keep it
up—besides,’ he added,
| ROME—MR CHENEY. | 377 |
“He said he was the more grateful for the flattering reception he had met with in Italy, as he had not always treated the Catholic religion with respect. I observed, that though he had exposed the hypocrites of all sects, no religion had any cause to complain of him, as he had rendered them all interesting by turns. Jews, Catholics, and Puritans had all their saints and martyrs in his works. He was much pleased with this.
“He spoke of Goethe with regret; he had been in correspondence with him
before his death, and had purposed visiting him at Weimar in returning to
England, I told him I had been to see Goëthe the year
before, and that I had found him well, and though very old, in the perfect
possession of all his faculties. ‘Of all his faculties!’ he
replied; ‘it is much better to die than to survive them, and better
still to die than live in the apprehension of it; but the worst of
all,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘would have been to have
survived their partial loss, and yet to be conscious of his
state.’—He did not seem to be, however, a great admirer of some of
Goethe’s works. Much of his popularity, he
observed, was owing to pieces which, in his latter moments, he might have
wished recalled. He spoke with much feeling. I answered that he must derive great consolation in the reflection that his own
popularity was owing to no such cause. He remained silent for a moment, with
his eyes fixed on the ground; when he raised them, as he shook me by the hand,
I perceived the light blue eye sparkled with unusual moisture. He added,
‘I am drawing near
| 378 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“After breakfast, Sir Walter returned to Rome. The following day he purposed setting out on his northern journey. It was Friday. I was anxious that he should prolong his stay in Rome; and reminding him of his superstition, I told him he ought not to set out on the unlucky day. He answered, laughing, ‘Superstition is very picturesque, and I make it at times stand me in great stead; but I never allow it to interfere with interest or convenience.’
“As I helped him down the steep court to his carriage, he said, as he stepped with pain and difficulty, ‘This is a sore change with me. Time was when I would hunt and shoot with the best of them, and thought it but a poor day’s sport when I was not on foot from ten to twelve hours; but we must be patient.’
“I handed him into his carriage; and in taking leave of me, he pressed me, with eager hospitality, to visit him at Abbotsford. The door closed upon him, and I stood for some moments watching the carriage till it was out of sight, as it wound through the portal of the Castle of Bracciano.
“Next day, Friday, May 11, Sir Walter left Rome.
“During his stay there he had received every mark
of attention and respect from the Italians, who in not
| APRIL—MAY, 1832. | 379 |
The last jotting of Sir Walter’s Diary—perhaps the last specimen of his handwriting—records his starting from Naples on the 16th of April. After the 11th of May the story can hardly be told too briefly.
The irritation of impatience, which had for a moment been suspended by
the aspect and society of Rome, returned the moment he found himself on the road, and
seemed to increase hourly. His companions could with difficulty prevail on him to see even
the Falls of Terni, or the Church of Santa Croce at Florence. On the 17th, a cold and
dreary day, they passed the Apennines, and dined on the top of the mountains. The snow and
the pines recalled Scotland, and he expressed pleasure at the sight of them. That night
they reached Bologna, but he would see none of the interesting objects there—and next day,
hurrying in like manner through Ferrara, he proceeded as far as Monselice. On the 19th he
arrived at Venice; and he remained there till the 23d;
| 380 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
At this town they embarked, on the 8th June in the Rhine steam-boat;
and while they descended the famous river through its most picturesque region, he seemed to
enjoy, though he said nothing, the perhaps unrivalled scenery it presented to him. His eye
was fixed on the successive crags and castles, and ruined monasteries, each of which had
been celebrated in some German ballad familiar to his ear, and all of them blended in the
immortal panorama of Childe Harold. But so
soon as he resumed his carriage at Cologne, and nothing but flat shores, and here and there
a grove of poplars and a village spire were offered to the vision, the weight of misery
sunk down again upon him. It was near Nimeguen, on the evening of the 9th, that he
sustained an-
| LONDON—JUNE, 1832. | 381 |
He reached London about six o’clock on the evening of Wednesday the 13th of June. Owing to the unexpected rapidity of the journey, his eldest daughter had had no notice when to expect him; and fearful of finding her either out of town, or unprepared to receive him and his attendants under her roof, Charles Scott drove to the St James’s hotel in Jermyn Street, and established his quarters there before he set out in quest of his sister and myself. When we reached the hotel, he recognised us with many marks of tenderness, but signified that he was totally exhausted; so no attempt was made to remove him further, and he was put to bed immediately. Dr Ferguson saw him the same night, and next day Sir Henry Halford and Dr Holland saw him also; and during the next three weeks the two former visited him daily, while Ferguson was scarcely absent from his pillow. The Major was soon on the spot. To his children, all assembled once more about him, he repeatedly gave his blessing in a very solemn manner, as if expecting immediate death, but he was never in a condition for conversation, and sunk either into sleep or delirious stupor upon the slightest effort.
Mrs Thomas Scott came to town as soon as she heard
of his arrival, and remained to help us. She was more than once recognised and thanked.
Mr Cadell too arrived from Edinburgh, to render
any assistance in his power. I think Sir Walter saw no
other of his friends except Mr John Richardson, and
him only once. As usual, he woke up at the sound of a familiar voice, and
| 382 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
During these melancholy weeks great interest and sympathy were
manifested. Allan Cunningham mentions that, walking
home late one night, he found several working-men standing together at the corner of Jermyn
Street, and one of them asked him, as if there was but one deathbed in London, “Do
you know, sir, if this is the street where he is lying?” The enquiries both
at the hotel and at my house were incessant; and I think there was hardly a member of the
royal family who did not send every day. The newspapers teemed with paragraphs about
Sir Walter; and one of these, it appears, threw out
a suggestion that his travels had exhausted his pecuniary resources, and that if he were
capable of reflection at all, cares of that sort might probably harass his pillow. This
paragraph came from a very ill-informed, but, I daresay, a well-meaning quarter. It caught
the attention of some members of the then Government; and, in consequence, I received a
private
| LONDON—JUNE, 1832. | 383 |
Dr Ferguson’s memorandum on Jermyn Street will be acceptable to the reader. He says:—
“When I saw Sir Walter he was lying in the second floor back-room of the St James’s Hotel, in Jermyn Street, in a state of stupor, from which, however, he could be roused for a moment by being addressed, and then he recognised those about him, but immediately relapsed. I think I never saw any thing more magnificent than the symmetry of his colossal bust, as he lay on the pillow with his chest and neck exposed. During the time he was in Jermyn Street he was calm but never collected, and in general either in absolute stupor or in a waking dream. He never seemed to know where he was, but imagined himself to be still in the steam-boat. The rattling of carriages, and the noises of the street sometimes disturbed this illusion, and then he fancied himself at the polling booth of Jedburgh, where he had been insulted and stoned.
“During the whole of this period of apparent helplessness,
the great features of his character could not be mistaken. He always exhibited great
self-possession, and acted his part with wonderful power when-
| 384 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“At length his constant yearning to return to Abbotsford induced his physicians to consent to his removal, and the moment this was notified to him it seemed to infuse new vigour into his frame. It was on a calm, clear afternoon of the 7th July, that every preparation was made for his embarkation on board the steam-boat. He was placed on a chair by his faithful servant Nicolson, half-dressed, and loosely wrapt in a quilted dressing-gown. He requested Lockhart and myself to wheel him towards the light of the open window, and we both remarked the vigorous lustre of his eye. He sat there silently gazing on space for more than half an hour, apparently wholly occupied with his own thoughts, and having no distinct perception of where he was or how he came there. He suffered himself to be lifted into his carriage, which was surrounded by a crowd, among whom were many gentlemen on horseback, who had loitered about to gaze on the scene.
“His children were deeply affected, and Mrs Lockhart trembled from head to foot and wept bitterly. Thus surrounded by those nearest to him, he alone was unconscious of the cause or the depth of their grief, and while yet alive seemed to be carried to his grave.”
| JULY, 1832. | 385 |
On this his last journey Sir Walter
was attended by his two daughters, Mr Cadell, and
myself—and also by Dr James Watson, who (it being impossible for
Dr Ferguson to leave town at that moment) kindly
undertook to see him safe at Abbotsford. We embarked in the James
Watt steam-boat, the master of which (Captain John
Jamieson), as well as the agent of the proprietors, made every arrangement in
their power for the convenience of the invalid. The Captain gave up for Sir
Walter’s use his own private cabin, which was a separate erection, a
sort of cottage, on the deck; and he seemed unconscious, after laid in bed there, that any
new removal had occurred. On arriving at Newhaven, late on the 9th, we found careful
preparations made for his landing by the manager of the Shipping Company (Mr
Hamilton); and Sir Walter, prostrate in his carriage,
was slung on shore, and conveyed from thence to Douglas’s hotel, in St Andrew’s
Square, in the same complete apparent unconsciousness. Mrs Douglas had
in former days been the Duke of Buccleuch’s
housekeeper at Bowhill, and she and her husband had also made the most suitable provision.
At a very early hour on the morning of Wednesday the 11th, we again placed him in his
carriage, and he lay in the same torpid state during the first two stages on the road to
Tweedside. But as we descended the vale of the Gala he began to gaze about him, and by
degrees it was obvious that he was recognising the features of that familiar landscape.
Presently he murmured a name or two—“Gala Water, surely—Buckholm—Torwoodlee.”
As we rounded the hill at Ladhope, and the outline of the Eildons burst on him, he became
greatly excited, and when turning himself on the couch his eye caught at length his own
towers, at the distance of a mile, he sprang up with a cry of delight. The river being in
| 386 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
Mr Laidlaw was waiting at the porch, and assisted us in lifting him into the dining-room, where his bed had been prepared. He sat bewildered for a few moments, and then resting his eye on Laidlaw, said, “Ha! Willie Laidlaw! O man, how often have I thought of you!” By this time his dogs had assembled about his chair—they began to fawn upon him and lick his hands, and he alternately sobbed and smiled over them, until sleep oppressed him.
Dr Watson having consulted on all things with Mr Clarkson and his father, resigned the patient to them, and returned to London. None of them could have any hope, but that of soothing irritation. Recovery was no longer to be thought of: but there might be Euthanasia.
And yet something like a ray of hope did break in upon us next
morning. Sir Walter awoke perfectly conscious where he
was, and expressed an ardent wish to be carried out into his garden. We procured a Bath
chair from Huntly-Burn, and Laidlaw and I wheeled
him out before his door, and up and down for some time on the turf, and among the rose-beds
then in full bloom. The grandchildren admired the new vehicle, and would be helping in
their way to push it about. He sat in silence, smiling placidly on them and the dogs their
companions, and now and then admiring the house, the screen of the garden, and the flowers
and trees. By and by he con-
| ABBOTSFORD—JULY, 1832. | 387 |
He then desired to be wheeled through his rooms, and we moved him leisurely for an hour or more up and down the hall and the great library: “I have seen much,” he kept saying, “but nothing like my ain house—give me one turn more!” He was gentle as an infant, and allowed himself to be put to bed again, the moment we told him that we thought he had had enough for one day.
Next morning he was still better: after again enjoying the Bath chair for perhaps a couple of hours out of doors, he desired to be drawn into the library, and placed by the central window, that he might look down upon the Tweed. Here he expressed a wish that I should read to him, and when I asked from what book, he said—“Need you ask? There is but one.” I chose the 14th chapter of St John’s Gospel; he listened with mild devotion, and said when I had done, “Well, this is a great comfort—I have followed you distinctly, and I feel as if I were yet to be myself again.” In this placid frame he was again put to bed, and had many hours of soft slumber.
On the third day Mr Laidlaw and
I again wheeled him about the small piece of lawn and shrubbery in front of the house for
some time, and the weather being delightful, and all the richness of summer around him, he
seemed to taste fully the balmy influences of nature. The sun getting very strong, we
halted the chair in a shady corner, just within the verge of his verdant arcade around the
court-wall; and breathing the coolness of the spot, he said, “read me some amusing
thing—read me a bit of Crabbe.” I
brought out the first volume of his old favourite that I could lay hand on, and turned to
| 388 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“Sad happy race! soon raised and soon depressed, Your days all passed in jeopardy and jest: Poor without prudence, with afflictions vain, Not warned by misery, nor enriched by gain.” |
“Shut the book,” said Sir Walter,—“I can’t stand more of this—it will touch Terry to the very quick.”
On the morning of Sunday the 15th he was again taken out into the
little pleasaunce, and got as far as his favourite terrace-walk
between the garden and the river, from which he seemed to survey the valley and the hills
with much satisfaction. On re-entering the house, he desired me to read to him from the New
Testament, and after that he again called for a little of Crabbe; but whatever I selected from that poet seemed to be listened to as
if it made part of some new volume published while he was in Italy. He attended with this
sense of novelty even to the tale of Phoebe
Dawson, which not many months before he could have repeated every line of, and
which I chose for one of these readings, because, as is known to every one, it had formed
the last solace of Mr Fox’s deathbed. On the
contrary his recollection of whatever I read from the Bible appeared to be lively; and in
the
| ABBOTSFORD—JULY, 1832. | 389 |
On Monday he remained in bed and seemed extremely feeble; but after
breakfast on Tuesday the 17th he appeared revived somewhat, and was again wheeled about on
the turf. Presently he fell asleep in his chair, and after dozing for perhaps half an hour,
started awake, and shaking the plaids we had put about him from off his shoulders, said,
“This is sad idleness. I shall forget what I have been thinking of, if I
don’t set it down now. Take me into my own room, and fetch the keys of my
desk.” He repeated this so earnestly that we could not refuse; his daughters
went into his study, opened his writing-desk, and laid paper and pens in the usual order,
and I then moved him through the hall and into the spot where he had always been accustomed
to work. When the chair was placed at the desk, and he found himself in the old position,
he smiled and thanked us, and said, ‘Now give me my pen and leave me for a little
to myself.’ Sophia put the pen into
his hand, and he endeavoured to close his fingers upon it, but they refused their office—it
dropped on the paper. He sank back among his pillows, silent tears rolling down his cheeks;
but composing himself by and by, motioned to me to wheel him out of doors again. Laidlaw met us at the porch, and took his turn of the
chair. Sir Walter, after a little while, again dropt
into slumber. When he was awaking, Laidlaw said to me
“Sir Walter has had a little repose.”
“No, Willie,” said he “no repose for
Sir Walter but in the grave.” The tears again rushed
from his eyes. “Friends,” said he, “don’t
| 390 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
With this scene ended our glimpse of daylight. Sir Walter never, I think, left his room afterwards, and hardly his bed, except for an hour or two in the middle of the day; and after another week he was unable even for this. During a few days he was in a state of painful irritation—and I saw realized all that he had himself prefigured in his description of the meeting between Crystal Croftangry and his paralytic friend. Dr Ross came out from Edinburgh, bringing with him his wife, one of the dearest nieces of the Clerk’s Table. Sir Walter with some difficulty recognised the Doctor—but, on hearing Mrs Ross’s voice, exclaimed at once “Isn’t that Kate Hume?” These kind friends remained for two or three days with us. Clarkson’s lancet was pronounced necessary, and the relief it afforded was, I am happy to say, very effectual.
After this he declined daily, but still there was great strength to be wasted, and the process was long. He seemed, however, to suffer no bodily pain, and his mind, though hopelessly obscured, appeared, when there was any symptom of consciousness, to be dwelling, with rare exceptions, on serious and solemn things; the accent of the voice grave, sometimes awful, but never querulous, and very seldom indicative of any angry or resentful thoughts. Now and then he imagined himself to be administering justice as Sheriff; and once or twice he seemed to be ordering Tom Purdie about trees. A few times also, I am sorry to say, we could perceive that his fancy was at Jedburgh—and Burk Sir
* As this is the last time I name Mr Laidlaw, I may as well mention, that this most excellent and amiable man is now factor on the estate of Sir Charles Lockhart Ross, Bart, of Balnagowan, in Ross-shire. |
| AUGUST, 1832. | 391 |
“Stabat Mater dolorosa, Juxta crucem lachrymosa, Dum pendebat Filius.” |
All this time he continued to recognise his daughters, Laidlaw, and myself, whenever we spoke to him—and received every attention with a most touching thankfulness. Mr Clarkson, too, was always saluted with the old courtesy, though the cloud opened but a moment for him to do so. Most truly might it be said that the gentleman survived the genius.
After two or three weeks had passed in this way, I was obliged to
leave Sir Walter for a single day, and go into Edinburgh
to transact business, on his account, with Mr Henry Cockburn (now
Lord Cockburn), then Solicitor-General for
Scotland. The Scotch Reform Bill threw a great burden of new duties and responsibilities
upon the Sheriffs; and Scott’s Sheriff-substitute, the Laird of Raeburn, not having been regularly educated for
the law, found himself incompetent to encounter these novelties, especially as regarded the
registration of voters, and other details connected with the recent enlargement of the
electoral franchise. Under such circumstances, as no one but the Sheriff could
| 392 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
| SEPTEMBER, 1832. | 393 |
Perceiving, towards the close of August, that the end was near, and thinking it very likely that Abbotsford might soon undergo many changes, and myself, at all events, never see it again, I felt a desire to have some image preserved of the interior apartments as occupied by their founder, and invited from Edinburgh for that purpose Sir Walter’s dear friend, William Allan whose presence, I well knew, would even under the circumstances of that time be nowise troublesome to any of the family, but the contrary in all respects. Mr Allan willingly complied, and executed a series of beautiful drawings, which may probably be engraved hereafter. He also shared our watchings, and witnessed all but the last moments. Sir Walter’s cousins, the ladies of Ashestiel, came down frequently, for a day or two at a time; and did whatever sisterly affections could prompt, both for the sufferer and his daughters. Miss Barbara Scott (daughter of his uncle Thomas), and Mrs Scott of Harden did the like.
As I was dressing on the morning of Monday the 17th of September,
Nicolson came into my room, and told me that his
master had awoke in a state of composure and consciousness, and wished to see me
immediately. I found him entirely himself, though in the last extreme of feebleness. His
eye was clear and calm—every trace of the wild fire of delirium extinguished.
“Lockhart,” he said
“I may have but a minute to speak to you. My dear, be a good man—be
virtuous—be religious—be a good man. Nothing else will give you any comfort when you
come to lie here.”—He paused, and I said, “Shall I send for
Sophia and Anne?”—“No,” said he,
“don’t disturb them. Poor souls! I know they
| 394 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
No sculptor ever modelled a more majestic image of repose:—
Κειτο μέγας
μεγαλωστί,
λελασμένος
ίπποσυνάων |
Almost every newspaper that announced this event in Scotland, and many in England, had the signs of mourning usual on the demise of a king. With hardly an exception, the voice was that of universal, unmixed grief and veneration.
It was considered due to Sir Walter’s physicians, and to the public, that the nature of his malady should be distinctly ascertained. The result was, that there appeared the traces of a very slight mollification in one part of the substance of the brain.*
|
* “Abbotsford, Sept. 23, 1832. This forenoon, in presence of Dr Adolphus Ross, from Edinburgh, and my father, I proceeded to examine the head of Sir Walter Scott. “On removing the upper part of the cranium, the vessels on the surface of the brain appeared slightly turgid, and on cutting into the brain the cineritious substance was found of a darker hue than natural, and a greater than usual quantity of serum in the ventricles. Excepting these appearances, the right hemisphere seemed |
| SEPTEMBER, 1832. | 395 |
His funeral was conducted in an unostentatious manner, but the attendance was very great. Few of his old friends then in Scotland were absent, and many, both friends and strangers, came from a great distance. His old domestics and foresters made it their petition that no hireling hand might assist in carrying his remains. They themselves bore the coffin to the hearse, and from the hearse to the grave. The pall-bearers were his sons, his son-in-law, and his little grandson; his cousins, Charles Scott of Nesbitt, James Scott of Jedburgh (sons to his uncle Thomas), William Scott of Raeburn, Robert Rutherford, Clerk to the Signet, Colonel (now Sir James) Russell of Ashestiel, William Keith (brother to Sir Alexander Keith of Ravelstone), and the chief of his family, Hugh Scott of Harden, now Lord Polwarth.
When the company were assembled, according to the usual Scotch fashion, prayers were offered up by the very Reverend Dr Baird, Principal of the University of Edinburgh, and by the Reverend Dr David Dickson, minister of St Cuthbert’s, who both expatiated in a very striking manner on the virtuous example of the deceased.
The court-yard and all the precincts of Abbotsford were crowded with uncovered spectators as the procession was arranged; and as it advanced through Darnick and Melrose, and the adjacent villages, the whole population appeared at their doors in like manner, almost all in black. The train of carriages extended, I understand,
| 396 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
The wide enclosure at the abbey of Dryburgh was thronged with old and young; and when the coffin was taken from the hearse, and again laid on the shoulders of the afflicted serving-men, one deep sob burst from a thousand lips. Mr Archdeacon Williams read the Burial Service of the Church of England; and thus, about half-past five o’clock in the evening of Wednesday the 26th September, 1832, the remains of Sir Walter Scott were laid by the side of his wife in the sepulchre of his ancestors—“in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life, through our Lord Jesus Christ: who shall change our vile body that it may be like unto his glorious body, according to the mighty working, whereby he is able to subdue all things to himself.”
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