Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart.
Chapter IX 1831
CHAPTER IX.
ROKEBY—LONDON—EPITAPH ON HELEN WALKER—PORTSMOUTH—VOYAGE
IN THE BARHAM—GRAHAM’S ISLAND—LETTER TO MR SKENE—MALTA—NOTES BY
MRS JOHN DAVY—SEPTEMBER—DECEMBER 1831.
Early on the 23d of September Sir
Walter left Abbotsford, attended by his daughter Anne, and myself, and we reached London by easy stages on the 28th, having
spent one day at Rokeby. I have nothing to mention of this journey except that,
notwithstanding all his infirmities, he would not pass any object to which he had ever
attached special interest, without getting out of the carriage to revisit it. His anxiety
(for example) about the gigantic British or Danish effigy in the churchyard at Penrith,
which we had all seen dozens of times before, seemed as great as if not a year had fled
since 1797. It may be supposed that his parting with Mr
Morritt was a grave one. Finding that he had left the ring he then usually
wore behind him at one of the inns on the road, he wrote to his friend to make enquiries
after it, as it had been dug out of the ruins of Hermitage Castle, and probably belonged of
yore to one of the “Dark Knights of Liddesdale,” and if recovered, to
keep it until he should come back to reclaim it, but, in the mean time, to wear it for his
sake. The ring, which is a broad belt of silver, with an angel holding the Heart of
Douglas, was found, and is now worn by Mr Morritt.
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LONDON SEPTEMBER, 1831. |
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Sir Walter arrived in London in the midst of the
Lords’ debates on the second Reform bill, and the ferocious demonstrations of the
populace on its rejection were in part witnessed by him. He saw the houses of several of
the chief Tories, and above all, that of the Duke of
Wellington, shattered and almost sacked. He heard of violence offered to the
persons of some of his own noble friends; and having been invited to attend the christening
of the infant heir of Buccleuch, whose godfather the
King had proposed to be, on a day appointed by his
Majesty, he had the pain to understand that the ceremony must be adjourned, because it was
not considered safe for his Majesty to visit, for such a purpose, the palace of one of his
most amiable, as well as illustrious peers.
The following is part of a letter which I lately received from Sir Walter’s dear friend and kinsman, Mr Scott of Gala: “The last time I saw
Sir W. Scott was in Sussex Place, the day after he arrived
from Scotland, on his way to Italy. I was prepared for a change in his appearance, but
was not struck with so great a one as I had expected. He evidently had lost strength
since I saw him at Abbotsford the previous autumn, but his eye was good. In his
articulation, however, there was too manifest an imperfection. We conversed shortly, as
may be supposed, on his health. ‘Weakness,’ he observed,
‘was his principal complaint.’ I said that I supposed he had
been rather too fatigued with his journey to leave the house since his arrival.
‘Oh no,’ he replied, ‘I felt quite able for a drive
to-day, and have just come from the city. I paid a visit to my friend Whittaker to ask him for some book of travels
likely to be of use to me on my expedition to the Mediterranean. Here’s
old Brydone accordingly, still as good a
companion as any he could recommend.’ ‘A very agreeable one
certainly,’
314 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
I
replied.—‘Brydone’ (said he)
‘was sadly failed during his latter years. Did you ever hear of his remark
on his own works?’—‘Never.’—‘Why, his family usually
read a little for his amusement of an evening, and on one occasion he was asked if
he would like to hear some of his travels to Sicily. He assented, and seemed to
listen with much pleasure for some time, but he was too far gone to continue his
attention long, and starting up from a doze exclaimed, “that’s really a
very amusing book, and contains many curious anecdotes.—I wonder if they are all
true.”’ Sir Walter then spoke of as strange a
tale as any traveller could imagine, a new volcanic island, viz., which had appeared
very lately, and seemed anxious to see it, ‘if it would wait for
him,’ he said. The offer of a King’s ship had gratified him, and he
ascribed this very much to the exertions of Basil
Hall—‘that curious fellow’ (said he), ‘who
takes charge of every one’s business without neglecting his own, has done a
great deal for me in this matter.’ I observed that Malta would interest
him much. The history of the knights, their library, &c., he immediately entered on
keenly. ‘I fear I shall not be able to appreciate Italy as it
deserves,’ continued he, ‘as I understand little of painting, and
nothing of music.’ ‘But there are many other subjects of
interest,’ I replied, ‘and to you particularly—Naples, St Elmo,
Pæstum, La Montagna, Pompeii—in fact, I am only afraid you may have too much
excitement, the bad effects of which, I as an invalid, am too well aware of.’ I
had before this, from my own experience, ventured several hints on the necessity of
caution with regard to over-exertion, but to these he always lent an unwilling ear.
“Sir Walter often digressed
during our conversation to the state of the country, about which he seemed to have much
anxiety. I said we had no Napoleon to frighten
us into good fellowship, and from want
of something to do, began fighting with each other—‘Aye’ (said he),
‘after conquering that Jupiter Scapin,
and being at the height of glory, one would think the people might be content to
sit down and eat the pudding; but no such thing.’ ‘When we’ve
paid more of the cash it has cost, they will be more content.’ ‘I doubt
it—They are so flattered and courted by Government that their appetite for power
(pampered as it is) won’t be easily satisfied now.’ When talking of
Italy, by the way, I mentioned that at Naples he would probably find a sister of
Mat. Lewis’s, Lady Lushington, wife of the English consul, a pleasant family, to whom
Lewis introduced me when there in 1817 very
kindly:—‘Ah poor Mat.!’—said he—‘he never wrote
any thing so good as the Monk—he
had certainly talents, but they would not stand much creaming.’
“The Forest and our new road (which had
cost both so much consultation) were of course touched on. The foundation of one of the
new bridges had been laid by him—and this should be commemorated by an inscription on it. ‘Well,’
said he, ‘how I should like to have a ride with you along our new road, just
opposite Abbotsford—I will hope to be able for it some day.’ Most
heartily did I join in the wish, and could not help flattering myself it might yet be possible. When we parted, he shook hands with me for some
time. He did so once more—but added firmly—‘Well, we’ll have a ride yet,
some day.’ I pleased myself with the hope that he augured rightly. But on
leaving him many misgivings presented themselves; and the accounts from the continent
served but too surely to confirm these apprehensions—never more did I meet with my
illustrious friend. There is reason I believe to be thankful that it was so—
316 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
nothing could have been more painful than to witness the wreck
of a mind like his.”
During his stay, which was till the 23d of October, Sir Walter called on many of his old friends; but he accepted
of no hospitalities except breakfasting once with Sir Robert
Inglis, on Clapham Common, and once or twice with Lady Gifford at Roehampton. Usually he worked a little in
the morning at notes for the Magnum, and
he drew up, as already mentioned, the preface for the forthcoming tales of Count Robert and Castle Dangerous.
Dr Robert Ferguson, one of the family with which
Sir Walter had lived all his days in such
brother-like affection, saw him constantly while he remained in the Regent’s Park;
and though neither the invalid nor his children could fancy any other medical advice
necessary, it was only due to Ferguson that some of his seniors should
be called in occasionally with him. Sir Henry
Halford (whom Scott reverenced as the friend of
Baillie) and Dr
Holland (an esteemed friend of his own), came accordingly; and all the three
concurred in recognising certain evidence that there was incipient disease in the brain.
There were still, however, such symptoms of remaining vigour, that they flattered
themselves, if their patient would submit to a total intermission of all literary labour
during some considerable space of time, the malady might yet be arrested. When they left
him after the first inspection, they withdrew into an adjoining room, and on soon rejoining
him found, that in the interim he had wheeled his chair into a dark corner, so that he
might see their faces without their being able to read his. When he was informed of the
comparatively favourable views they entertained, he expressed great thankfulness; promised
to obey all their directions as
to diet
and repose most scrupulously; and he did not conceal from them, that “he had
feared insanity and feared them.”
The following are extracts from his Diary.—“London, October 2, 1830.—I have been very ill, and if not quite unable to
write, I have been unfit to do it. I have wrought, however, at two Waverley things, but not well. A total prostration of bodily strength is my
chief complaint. I cannot walk half a mile. There is, besides, some mental confusion,
with the extent of which I am not, perhaps, fully acquainted. I am perhaps setting. I
am myself inclined to think so, and like a day that has been admired as a fine one, the
light of it sets down amid mists and storms. I neither regret nor fear the approach of
death, if it is coming. I would compound for a little pain instead of this heartless
muddiness of mind. The expense of this journey, &c. will be considerable, yet these
heavy burdens could be easily borne if I were to be the Walter
Scott I once was—but the change is great. And the ruin which I fear
involves that of my country. Well says Colin
Mackenzie—
‘Shall this Desolation strike thy towers alone? No, fair Ellandonan! such ruin ’twill bring, That the whirl shall have power to unsettle the throne, And thy fate shall be link’d with the fate of thy king.’* |
We arrived in London after a long journey—the weakness of my limbs palpably
increasing, and the medicine prescribed making me weaker every day. Lockhart, poor fellow, is as attentive as possible,
and I have, thank God, no pain whatever; could the decay but be so easy at last it
would be too happy. But I
318 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
fancy the instances of Euthanasia are not in very serious cases
very common. Instances there certainly are among the learned and the
unlearned—Dr Black, Tom Purdie. I should like, if it pleased God, to slip
off in such a quiet way, but we must take what fate sends. I have not warm hopes of
being myself again.
“Oct. 12.—Lord
Mahon, a very amiable as well as clever young man, comes to dinner with
Mr Croker, Lady
Louisa Stuart, and Sir John
Malcolm. Sir John told us a story about Garrick and his wife. The lady admired her husband greatly, but blamed him for a taste
for low life, and insisted that he loved better to play Scrub to a low-lifed audience
than one of his superior characters before an audience of taste. On one particular
occasion she was at her box in the theatre. Richard III. was the performance, and
Garrick’s acting, particularly in the night-scene, drew
down universal applause. After the play was over, Mrs G. proposed
going home, which Garrick declined, alleging he had some business
in the green-room which must detain him. In short the lady was obliged to acquiesce,
and wait the beginning of a new entertainment, in which was introduced a farmer giving
his neighbours an account of the wonders seen in a visit to London. This character was
received with such peals of applause that Mrs Garrick began to
think it exceeded those which had been so lately lavished on Richard
the Third. At last she observed her little spaniel dog was making efforts to
get towards the balcony which separated him from the facetious farmer and then she
became aware of the truth. ‘How strange,’ he said, ‘that a
dog should know his master, and a woman, in the same circumstances, should not
recognise her husband?’
“Oct. 18.—A pleasant breakfast at
Roehampton, where I met my good friend Lord
Sidmouth. On my
way
back, I called to see the repairs at Lambeth, which are proceeding under the able
direction of Blore, who met me there. They are
in the best Gothic taste, and executed at the expense of a large sum, to be secured by
way of mortgage payable in fifty years, each incumbent within the time paying a
proportion of about L.4000 a-year. I was pleased to see this splendour of church
architecture returning again.
“Oct. 18.—Sophia had a small but lively party last night, as indeed she has had every
night since we were here—Lady Stafford, Lady Louisa Stuart, Lady
Montagu, Miss Montagu, Lady
Davy, Mrs M’Leod, and her
girls—Lord Montagu, Macleod, Lord Dudley, Rogers, Mackintosh.
A good deal of singing.”
Sir Walter seemed to enjoy having one or two friends to
meet him at dinner and a few more in the evenings. Those named in the last entries, came
all of them frequently—and so did Lord Melville, the
Bishop of Exeter, Lord
Ashley, Sir David Wilkie, Mr Thomas Moore, Mr
Milman, and Mr Washington Irving. At
this time the Reform Bill for Scotland was in discussion in the House of Commons. Mr Croker made a very brilliant speech in opposition to
it, and was not sorry to have it said, that he had owed his inspiration, in no small
degree, to having risen from the table at which Scott sat by his side.
But the most regular of the evening visiters was, I think, Sir
James Mackintosh. He was himself in very feeble health, and whatever might
have been the auguries of others, it struck me that there was uppermost with him at every
parting the anticipation that they might never meet again. Sir
James’s kind assiduity was the more welcome, that his appearance
banished the politics of the hour, on which his old friend’s thoughts were too apt to
brood. Their conversation, wherever it might begin, was sure to fasten ere long on
Lochaber.
320 |
LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
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When last in Edinburgh Scott had
given his friend William Burn, architect, directions
to prepare at his expense a modest monument, for the grave of Helen Walker, the original of Jeanie
Deans, in the churchyard of Irongrey. Mr Burn now
informed him that the little pillar was in readiness, and on the 18th October Sir
Walter sent him this beautiful inscription for it;—
THIS STONE WAS ERECTED
BY THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLEY
TO THE MEMORY
OF
HELEN WALKER,
WHO DIED IN THE YEAR OF GOD, 1791.
THIS HUMBLE INDIVIDUAL PRACTISED IN REAL LIFE
THE VIRTUES
WITH WHICH FICTION HAS INVESTED
THE IMAGINARY CHARACTER OF
JEANIE DEANS;
REFUSING THE SLIGHTEST DEPARTURE
FROM VERACITY,
EVEN TO SAVE THE LIFE OF A SISTER,
SHE NEVERTHELESS SHOWED HER
KINDNESS AND FORTITUDE,
IN RESCUING HER FROM THE SEVERITY OF THE LAW,
AT THE EXPENSE OF PERSONAL EXERTIONS
WHICH THE TIME RENDERED AS DIFFICULT
AS THE MOTIVE WAS LAUDABLE.
RESPECT THE GRAVE OF POVERTY
WHEN COMBINED WITH LOVE OF TRUTH
AND DEAR AFFECTION.
|
Next morning the Honourable Captain Henry
Duncan, R.N., who was at this time store-keeper of the Ordnance, and who had
taken a great deal of trouble in arranging matters for the voyage, called on Sir Walter to introduce to him Captain, now Sir Hugh Pigot, the commanding-officer of the Barham. The Diary says:—
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LONDON—OCTOBER, 1831. |
321 |
“October 19.—Captain H. Duncan called with Captain Pigot, a smart-looking gentlemanlike man, who
announces his purpose of sailing on Monday. I have made my preparations for being on
board on Sunday, which is the day appointed.
“Captain Duncan told me
jocularly never to take a naval captain’s word on shore, and quoted Sir
William Scott, who used to say waggishly, that there was nothing so
accommodating on shore, but when on board, he became a peremptory lion. Henry
Duncan has behaved very kindly, and says he only discharges the wishes
of his service in making me as easy as possible, which is very handsome—too high a
compliment for me. No danger of feud, except about politics, which would be impolitic
on my part, and though it bars out one great subject of discussion, it leaves enough
besides. Walter arrives ready to sail. So what
little remains must be done without loss of time.
“I leave this country uncertain if it has got a total pardon
or only a reprieve. I won’t think of it, as I can do no good. It seems to be in
one of those crises by which Providence reduces nations to their original elements. If
I had my health, I should take no worldly fee, not to be in the bustle; but I am as
weak as water, and I shall be glad when I have put the Mediterranean between the island
and me.
“October 23.—Misty morning looks like a
yellow fog, which is the curse of London. I would hardly take my share of it for a share of
its wealth and its curiosity—a vile double-distilled fog, of the most intolerable kind.
Children scarce stirring yet, but Baby and Macao beginning their Macao notes—”
Dr Ferguson found Sir
Walter with this page of his Diary before him, when he called to pay his
farewell
322 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
visit. “As he was still working at his
MSS.,” says the Doctor, “I offered to retire, but was not permitted. On
my saying I had come to take leave of him before he quitted England, he exclaimed, with
much excitement—‘England is no longer a place for an honest man. I shall not
live to find it so; you may.’ He then broke out into the details of a
very favourite superstition of his, that the middle of every century had always been
marked by some great convulsion or calamity in this island. Already the state of
politics preyed much on his mind and indeed that continued to form a part of the
delirious dreams of his last illness. On the whole, the alterations which had taken
place in his mind and person since I had seen him, three years before, were very
apparent. The expression of the countenance and the play of features were changed by
slight palsy of one cheek. His utterance was so thick and indistinct as to make it very
difficult for any but those accustomed to hear it, to gather his meaning. His gait was
less firm and assured than ever; but his power of self-command, his social tact, and
his benevolent courtesy, the habits of a life, remained untouched by a malady which had
obscured the higher powers of his intellect.”
After breakfast, Sir Walter,
accompanied by his son and both his daughters, set off for Portsmouth; and Captain Basil Hall had the kindness to precede them by an
early coach, and prepare every thing for their reception at the hotel. They expected that
the embarkation would take place next day, and the Captain had considered that his
professional tact and experience might be serviceable, which they were eminently. In
changing horses at Guilford, Sir Walter got out of his carriage, and
very narrowly escaped being run over by a stagecoach. Of all “the habits of a
life,” none clung longer
to him than his
extreme repugnance to being helped in any thing. It was late before he came to lean, as a
matter of course, when walking, upon any one but Tom
Purdie; and the reader will see, in the sequel, that this proud feeling,
coupled with increasing tendency to abstraction of mind, often exposed him to imminent
hazard.
The Barham could not sail for a week. During
this interval, Sir Walter scarcely stirred from his
hotel, being unwilling to display his infirmities to the crowd of gazers who besieged him
whenever he appeared. He received, however, deputations of the literary and scientific
societies of the town, and all other visiters, with his usual ease and courtesy: and he
might well be gratified with the extraordinary marks of deference paid him by the official
persons who could in any way contribute to his ease and comfort. The First Lord of the
Admiralty, Sir James Graham, and the Secretary,
Sir John Barrow, both appeared in person, to
ascertain that nothing had been neglected for his accommodation on board the frigate. The
Admiral, Sir Thomas Foley, placed his barge at his
disposal; the Governor, Sir Colin Campbell, and all
the chief officers, naval and military, seemed to compete with each other in attention to
him and his companions. In Captain Hall’s Third
Series of Fragments of Voyages and
Travels (vol. iii. p. 280), some interesting details have long since been made
public. But it may be sufficient to say here, that had Captain
Pigot and his gallant shipmates been appointed to convey a Prince of the
Blood and his suite, more generous, anxious, and delicate exertions could not have been
made, either in altering the interior of the vessel, so as to meet the wants of the
passengers, or afterwards, throughout the voyage, in rendering it easy, comfortable, and as
far as might be, interesting and amusing.
I subjoin an extract or two from the Diary at Ports-
324 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
mouth, which show how justly Dr
Ferguson has been describing Sir Walter
as in complete possession of all the qualities that endeared him to society:—
“October 24.—The girls break loose—mad
with the craze of seeing sights—and run the risk of deranging the naval officers, who
offer their services with their natural gallantry. I wish they would be moderate in
their demands on people’s complaisance. They little know how inconvenient are
such seizures. A sailor in particular is a bad refuser, and before he can turn three
times round, he is bound by a triple knot to all sorts of nonsense.
“October 27.—The girls, I regret to
see, have got a senseless custom of talking politics in all weathers, and in all sorts
of company. This can do no good, and may give much offence. Silence can offend no one,
and there are pleasanter or less irritating subjects to talk of. I gave them both a
hint of this, and bid them remember they were among ordinary strangers. How little
young people reflect what they may win or lose by a smart reflection imprudently fired
off at a venture!”
On the morning of the 29th, the wind at last changed, and the Barham got under weigh.
After a few days, when they had passed the Bay of Biscay, Sir Walter ceased to be annoyed with seasickness, and sat most
of his time on deck, enjoying apparently the air, the scenery, and above all the ship
itself, the beautiful discipline practised in all things, and the martial exercises of the
men. In Captain Pigot, Lieutenant
Walker, the physician Dr Liddell, and
I believe in many others of the officers, he had highly intelligent, as well as polished
companions. The course was often altered, for the express purpose of giving him a glimpse
of some famous place; and it was only the
temptation of a singularly propitious breeze that prevented a halt at Algiers.
On the 20th November they came upon that remarkable phenomenon, the
sudden creation of a submarine volcano, which bore, during its very brief date, the name of
Graham’s Island. Four months had elapsed since it “arose from out the azure
main” and in a few days more it disappeared. “Already,” as
Dr Davy says, “its crumbling masses were
falling to pieces from the pressure of the hand or foot.”* Yet nothing could
prevent Sir Walter from landing on it and in a letter of
the following week he thus describes his adventure; the Barham had
reached Malta on the 22d.
To James Skene, Esq. of Rubislaw, Edinburgh.
“Malta, Nov. 25, 1831.
“Our habits of non-correspondence are so firmly
established, that it must be a matter of some importance that sets either of us
a writing to the other. As it has been my lot to see the new volcano, called
Graham’s Island, either employed in establishing itself, or more likely
in decomposing itself and as it must be an object of much curiosity to many of
our brethren of the Royal Society, I have taken it into my head that even the
very imperfect account which I can give of a matter of this extraordinary kind
may be in some degree valued. Not being able to borrow your fingers, those of
the Captain’s clerk have been put in requisition for the inclosed sketch,
and the notes adjoined are as accurate as can be expected from a hurried visit.
You have a view of the island, very much
326 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
as it shows at present, but nothing is more certain than
that it is on the eve of a very important change, though in what respect is
doubtful. I saw a portion of about five or six feet in height give way under
the feet of one of our companions on the very ridge of the southern corner, and
become completely annihilated, giving us some anxiety for the fate of our
friend, till the dust and confusion of the dispersed pinnacle had subsided. You
know my old talents for horsemanship. Finding the earth, or what seemed a
substitute for it, sink at every step up to the knee, so as to make walking for
an infirm and heavy man nearly impossible, I mounted the shoulders of an able
and willing seaman, and by dint of his exertions rode nearly to the top of the
island. I would have given a great deal for you, my friend, the frequent and
willing supplier of my defects; but on this journey, though undertaken late in
life, I have found, from the benevolence of my companions, that when one
man’s strength was insufficient to supply my deficiencies, I had the
willing aid of twenty if it could be useful. I have sent you one of the largest
blocks of lava which I could find on the islet, though small pieces are
innumerable. We found two dolphins, killed apparently by the hot temperature,
and the body of a robin redbreast, which seemingly had come off from the
nearest land, and starved to death on the islet, where it had neither found
food nor water. Such had been the fate of the first attempt to stock the island
with fish and fowl. On the south side the volcanic principle was still
apparently active. The perpetual bubbling up from the bottom produces a
quantity of steam, which rises all around the base of the island, and surrounds
it as with a cloak when seen from a distance. Most of these appearances struck
the other gentlemen, I believe, as well as myself; but a gentleman who has
visited the rock repeatedly, is of
| GRAHAM’S ISLAND—NOV. 1831. | 327 |
opinion that it is certainly
increasing in magnitude. Its decrease in height may be consistent with the
increase of its more level parts, and even its general appearance above water;
for the ruins which crumble down from the top, are like to remain at the bottom
of the ridge of the rock, add to the general size of the islet, and tend to
give the ground firmness.
“The gales of this new-born island are any thing but
odoriferous. Brimstone, and such like, are the prevailing savours, to a degree
almost suffocating. Every hole dug in the sand is filled with boiling water, or
what was nearly such. I cannot help thinking that the great ebullition in the
bay, is the remains of the original crater, now almost filled up, yet still
showing that some extraordinary operations are going on in the subterranean
regions.
“If you think, my dear Skene, that any of these trifling particulars concerning this
islet can interest our friends, you are free to communicate them either to the
Society or to the Club, as you judge most proper. I have just seen James* in full health, but he vanished like a
guilty thing, when, forgetting that I was a contraband commodity, I went to
shake him by the hand, which would have cost him ten days’ imprisonment,
I being at present in quarantine.
“We saw an instance of the strictness with which
this law is observed: In entering the harbour, a seaman was pushed from our
yard-arm. He swam strongly, notwithstanding the fall, but the Maltese boats, of
whom there were several, tacked from him, to avoid picking him up, and an
English Boat, which did take the poor man in, was condemned to ten days’
imprisonment, to reward
328 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
the benevolence of the action. It is in the capacity of
quarantine prisoners that we now inhabit the decayed chambers of a magnificent
old Spanish palace, which resembles the pantaloons of the Don in his youth, a world too wide for his shrunk
shanks. But you know Malta, where there is more magnificence than comfort,
though we have met already many friends, and much kindness.
“My best compliments to Mrs Skene, to whom I am bringing a fairy cup made out of a
Nautilus shell—the only one which I found entire on Graham’s Island; the
original owner had suffered shipwreck. I beg to be respectfully remembered to
all friends of the Club.—Yours ever, with love to your fireside,
At Malta Sir Walter found several
friends of former days, besides young Skene.
Mr John Hookham Frere had been resident there
for several years, as he still continues, the captive of the enchanting climate, and the
romantic monuments of the old chivalry.* Sir John
Stoddart, the Chief Judge of the island, had known the Poet ever since the
early days of Lasswade and Glenfinlas; and the Lieutenant-governor, Colonel Seymour Bathurst, had often met him under the roof
of his father, the late Earl Bathurst. Mrs Bathurst’s distinguished uncle, Sir William Alexander, some time Lord Chief-Baron of
England, happened also to be then visiting her. Captain Dawson,
husband to Lord Kinnedder’s eldest daughter,
was of the garrison, and Sir Walter felt as if he were about to meet a
daughter of his own in the Euphemia Erskine who had
so often sat upon his knee.
She immediately joined him, and insisted
on being allowed to partake his quarantine. Lastly, Dr John
Davy, the brother of his illustrious friend, was at the head of the medical
staff; and this gentleman’s presence was welcome indeed to the Major and Miss
Scott, as well as to their father, for he had already begun to be more
negligent as to his diet, and they dreaded his removal from the skilful watch of Dr Liddell. Various letters, and Sir
Walter’s Diary, (though hardly legible), show that he inspected with
curiosity the knightly antiquities of La Valetta, the church and monuments of St John, the
deserted palaces and libraries of the heroic brotherhood; and the reader will find that,
when he imprudently resumed the pen of romance, the subject he selected was from their
annals. He enjoyed also the society of the accomplished persons I have been naming, and the
marks of honour lavished on him by the inhabitants, both native and English.
Here he saw much of a Scotch lady, with many of whose friends and
connexions he had been intimate—Mrs John Davy, the
daughter of a brother advocate, the late Mr Archibald
Fletcher, whose residence in Edinburgh used to be in North Castle Street,
within a few doors of “poor 39.” This lady has been so good as to intrust me
with a few pages of her Family Journal;” and I am sure the reader will value a copy
of them more than any thing else I could produce with respect to Sir Walter’s brief residence at Malta:—
“Before the end of November,” says Mrs Davy, “a great sensation was produced in
Malta, as well it might, by the arrival of Sir Walter
Scott. He came here in the Barham, a frigate
considered the very beauty of the fleet, ‘a perfect ship,’ as Sir Pulteney Malcolm used to say, and in the highest
discipline. In her annals it may now be told that she carried the most gifted,
certainly
330 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
the most popular author of Europe into the
Mediterranean; but it was amusing to see that the officers of the ship thought the
great minstrel and romancer must gain more addition to his fame from having been a
passenger on board the Barham, than they or she could possibly
receive even from having taken on board such a guest. Our Governor, Sir F. Ponsonby, had not returned from a visit to
England when this arrival took place, but orders had been received that all manner of
attention should be paid; that a house, carriage, horses, &c. should be placed at
Sir Walter’s disposal; and all who thought they had the
smallest right to come forward on the occasion, or even a decent pretence for doing so,
were eager to do him honour according to their notions and means.
“On account of cholera then prevailing in England, a
quarantine was at this time enforced here on all who came from thence; but instead of
driving Sir Walter to the ordinary lazaretto, some
good apartments were prepared at Fort Manuel for him and his family to occupy for the
appointed time, I believe nine days. He there held a daily levee to receive the
numerous visiters who waited on him; and I well remember, on accompanying Colonel and Mrs
Bathurst and Sir William
Alexander to pay their first visit, how the sombre landing-place of the
Marsa Muscet (the quarantine harbour), under the heavy bastion that shelters it on the
Valetta side, gave even then tokens of an illustrious arrival, in the unusual number of
boats and bustle of parties setting forth to, or returning from Fort Manuel, on the
great business of the day. But even in the case of one whom all ‘delighted to
honour,’ a quarantine visit is a notably uncomfortable thing; and when our little
procession had marched up several broad flights of steps, and we found ourselves on a
landing-place ha-
ving a wide door-way
opposite to us, in which sat Sir Walter—his daughter, Major
Scott, and Mrs Dawson standing
behind and a stout bar placed across some feet in front of them, to keep us at the
legal distance—I could not but repent having gone to take part in a ceremony so formal
and wearisome to all concerned. Sir Walter rose, but seemed to do
it with difficulty, and the paralytic fixed look of his face was most distressing. We
all walked up to the bar, but there stood very like culprits, and no one seemed to know
who was to speak first. Sir W. Alexander, however, accustomed of
old to discourse from the bar, or charge from the bench, was beyond question the proper
person,—so, after a very little hesitation, he began and made a neat speech, expressing
our hopes that Sir Walter would sojourn at Malta as long as
possible. Sir Walter replied very simply and courteously in his
natural manner, but his articulation was manifestly affected, though not I think quite
so much so as his expression of face. He wore trousers of the Lowland small-checked
plaid, and sitting with his hands crossed over the top of a shepherd’s-looking
staff, he was very like the picture painted by Leslie, and engraved for one of the Annuals,—but when he spoke, the
varied expression, that used quite to redeem all heaviness of features, was no longer
to be seen. Our visit was short, and we left Mr
Frere with him at the bar on our departure. He came daily to see his
friend, and passed more of his quarantine-time with him than any one else. We were told
that between Mr Frere’s habitual absence of mind, and
Sir Walter’s natural Scotch desire to shake hands with
him at every meeting, it required all the vigilance of the attendant genii of the
place, to prevent Mr F. from being put into quarantine along with
him.
“Sir Walter did not accept the house provided for him
332 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
by the Governor’s order, nor any of the various private
houses which, to Miss Scott’s great
amusement, were urgently proffered for his use by their owners—but established himself,
during his stay, at Beverley’s Hotel, in Strada Fonente. Our house was
immediately opposite to this one, divided by a very narrow street; and I well remember,
when watching his arrival on the day he took Pratique, hearing the sound of his voice
as he chatted sociably to Mr Greig (the inspector of quarantine),
on whose arm he leaned while walking from the carriage to the door of his hotel—it
seemed to me that I had hardly heard so home-like a sound in this strange land, or one
that so took me back to Edinburgh and our own North Castle Street, where, in passing
him as he walked up or down with a friend, I had heard it before so often. Nobody was
at hand at the moment for me to show him to but an English maid, who not having my
Scotch interest in the matter, only said, when I tried to enlighten her as to the event
of his arrival—‘Poor old gentleman, how ill he looks.’ It showed how
sadly a little while must have changed him, for when I had seen him last in Edinburgh,
perhaps five or six years before, no one would have thought of calling him ‘an
old gentleman.’ At one or two dinner-parties, at which we saw him within the week
of his arrival, he did not seem at all animated in conversation, and retired soon; for
he seemed resolutely prudent as to keeping early hours; though he was unfortunately
careless as to what he ate or drank, especially the latter—and, I fear, obstinate when
his daughter attempted to regulate his diet.
“A few days after his arrival in Malta he accepted an
invitation from the garrison to a ball—an odd kind of honour to
bestow on a man of letters suffering from paralytic illness, but extremely charac-
teristic of the taste of this place. It
was, I believe, well got up, under the direction of the usual master of Malta
ceremonies, Mr Walker, an officer of artillery; and every thing
was done that the said officer and his colleagues could do to give it a sentimental, if
not a literary cast. The decorations were laboriously appropriate. Sir Walter entered (having been received at the door by a
deputation of the dignitaries of the island) to the sound of Scotch music; and as it
was held in the great room of the Auberge de Provence,formerly one of the festal halls
of the Knights of Malta, it was not a bad scene—if such a gaiety was to be inflicted at
all.
“A day or two afterwards, we gladly accepted an invitation
brought to us by Miss Scott, to dine quietly
with him and two or three officers of the Barham at his hotel;
and I thought the day of this dining so white a one as to mark
it especially in a little note-book the same evening. I see it stands dated December
the 4th, and the little book says. ‘Dined and spent the evening of this day with
Sir Walter Scott. We had only met him before at
large dinner-parties. At home he was very much more happy, and more inclined to talk.
Even now his conversation has many characteristics of his writings. There is the same
rich felicitous quotation from favourite writers—the same happy introduction of old
traditionary stories,—Scotch ones especially,—in a manner as easy, and evidently quite
unprepared. The coming in of a young midshipman, cousin of his
(Scott by name), to join the party, gave occasion to his
telling the story of ‘Muckle Mouthed Meg,’* and to
his describing the tragicomical picture drawn from that story by Mr C. K. Sharpe, which I remem-
* See ante, vol. I. p.
350. |
334 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
bered to have seen at Abbotsford. At dinner he spoke a good deal
of Tom Sheridan, after telling a bon mot of his in illustration of something that
was said; and seemed amused at a saying of Mr
Smyth (of Cambridge), respecting that witty and volatile pupil of his,
‘that it was impossible to put knowledge into him, try it as you
might.’ ‘Just,’ said Sir Walter,
‘like a trunk that you are trying to over-pack, but it won’t do, the
things start out in your face.’ On joining us in the drawing-room after
dinner Sir Walter was very animated, spoke much of Mr Frere, and of his remarkable success, when quite a
boy, in the translation of a Saxon
ballad.* This led him to ballads in general, and he gravely lamented his
friend Mr Frere’s heresy in not esteeming highly enough that
of ‘Hardyknute.’ He
admitted that it was not a veritable old ballad, but ‘just old
enough,’ and a noble imitation of the best style. In speaking of Mr
Frere’s translations, he repeated a pretty long passage from his
version of one of the Romances of the Cid (published in the Appendix to Southey’s quarto), and seemed to
enjoy a spirited charge of the knights therein described as much as he could have done
in his best days, placing his walking-stick in rest like a lance, to ‘suit the
action to the word.’ Miss Scott says, she has not
seen him so animated, so like himself, since he came to Malta, as on this evening.
“Sunday Morning, December 5, (as my
said little note book proceeds to record)—Sir Walter
spent chiefly in St John’s Church, the beautiful temple and burying-place of the
knights, and there he was much pleased and interested. On Monday the 6th he dined at
the
* See ante, vol. ii.
p. 21. |
Chief-Justice, Sir John Stoddart’s, when I believe he partook
too freely of porter and champagne for one in his invalid state. On Tuesday morning
(the 7th), on looking from one of our windows across the street, I observed him sitting
in an easy-chair in the parlour of his hotel, a book in his hand, and apparently
reading attentively: his window was wide open, and I remember wishing much for the
power of making a picture of him just as he sat. But about 11 o’clock Miss Scott came over to me, looking much frightened,
and saying that she feared he was about to have another paralytic attack. He had, she
said, been rather confused in mind the day before, and the dinner-party had been too
much for him. She had observed that on trying to answer a note from the Admiral that
morning, he had not been able to form a letter on the paper, and she thought he was now
sitting in a sort of stupor. She begged that Dr
Davy would visit him as soon as possible, and that I would accompany
him, so that he might not suppose it a medical visit, for to all such he had an utter
objection. I sent for Dr D. instantly, and the moment he returned
we went together to the hotel. We found Sir Walter sitting near a
fire, dressed, as I had seen him just before, in a large silk dressing-gown, his face a
good deal flushed, and his eyes heavy. He rose, however, as I went up to him, and,
addressing me by my mother’s name, “Mrs
Fletcher,” asked kindly whether I was quite
recovered from a little illness I had complained of the day before, and then walked to
a table on the other side of the room, to look at some views of the new Volcano in the
Mediterranean, which, by way of apology for our early visit, we had carried with us.
With these he seemed pleased; but there was great indistinctness in his manner of
speaking. He soon after sat down, and began, of his own accord, to converse 336 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
with Dr Davy on the work he was then
engaged in—the Life of Sir
Humphry—saying that he was truly glad he was thus engaged, as he did not
think justice had been done to the character of his friend by Dr Paris. In speaking of the scientific distinction
attained by Sir Humphry, he said, ‘I
hope, Dr Davy, your mother lived to see it. There must have
been such great pleasure in that to her.’ We both remember with much
interest this kindly little observation; and it was but one of many that dropt from him
as naturally at the different times we met, showing that, ‘fallen’ as
‘the mighty’ was, and ‘his weapons of war perished,’ the
springs of fancy dried up, and memory on most subjects much impaired, his sense of the
value of home-bred worth and affection was in full force. His way of mentioning
‘my son Charles, poor
fellow,’ whom he was longing to meet at Naples or ‘my own
Tweed-side,’ which in truth he seemed to lament ever having quitted was
often really affecting. Our visit together on this morning was of course short, but
Dr Davy saw him repeatedly in the course of the same day.
Leeches were applied to his head, and though they did not give immediate relief to his
uncomfortable sensations, he was evidently much better next morning, and disposed to
try a drive into the country. Some lameness having befallen one of the horses provided
for his use, I, at his request, ordered a little open carriage of ours to the door
about 12 o’clock, and prepared to accompany him to St Antonio, a garden residence
of the Governor’s, about two miles from Valetta, then occupied by Mr Frere, whose own house at the Pieta was under
repair. It was not without fear and trembling I undertook this little drive—not on
account of the greatness of my companion, for assuredly he was the most humane of
lions, but I feared he might have some new seizure of illness, and that I should be
very helpless to him in such a case. I
proposed that Dr D. should go instead; but, like most men when
they are ill or unhappy, he preferred having womankind about
him,—said he would ‘like Mrs Davy
better;’ so I went. The notices of his ‘carriage talk,’ I
give exactly as I find them noted down the day after—omitting only the story of
Sir H. Davy and the Tyrolese rifle, which I put on record
separately for my husband, for insertion in his book.*
“My little note-book of December 9 says—The day was very
beautiful (like a good English day about the end of May) and the whole way in going to St
Antonio he was cheerful, and inclined to talk on any matter that was suggested. He admired
the streets of Valetta much as we passed through them, noticing particularly the rich
effect of the carved stone balconies, and the images of saints at every corner, saying
several times ‘this town is really quite like a dream.’ Something
(suggested I believe by the appearances of Romish superstition on all sides of us) brought
him to speak of the Irish of whose native character he expressed a high opinion; and spoke
most feelingly of the evil fate that seemed constantly to attend them. Some link from this
subject (I do not exactly know what for the rattling progress of our little vehicle over
ill-paved ways, and his imperfect utterance together, made it difficult to catch all his
words) brought to his recollection a few fine lines from ‘O’Connor’s child,’ in the passage
‘And ranged, as to the judgment seat, My guilty, trembling brothers round’— |
which he repeated with his accustomed energy, and then
338 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
went on to speak of Campbell,
whom, as a poet, he honours. On my saying something of
Campbell’s youth at the publication of his first poem, he
said, ‘Aye, he was very young—but he came out at once, ye may say, like the Irish
rebels, a hundred thousand strong.’
“There was no possibility of admiring the face of the country
as we drove along after getting clear of the city gates; but I was pleased to see how
refreshing the air seemed to Sir Walter—and perhaps
this made him go back, as he did, to his days of long walks, over moss and moor, which
he told me he had often traversed at the rate of five-and-twenty miles a-day, with a
gun on his shoulder. He snuffed with great delight the perfume of the new oranges,
which hung thickly on each side as we drove up the long avenue to the court-yard, or
stableyard rather, of St Antonio—and was amused at the Maltese untidiness of two or
three pigs running at large under the trees. ‘That’s just like my friend
Frere,’ he said,
‘quite content to let pigs run about in his orange-groves.’ We
did not find Mr Frere at home, and therefore drove back without
waiting. Among some other talk, in returning, he spoke with praise of Miss Ferrier as a novelist, and then with still higher
praise of Miss Austen. Of the latter he said,
‘I find myself every now and then with one of her books in my hand.
There’s a finishing-off in some of her scenes that is really quite above
every body else. And there’s that Irish lady, too—but I forget every
body’s name now’—‘Miss
Edgeworth,’ I said—‘Ay, Miss Edgeworth,
she’s very clever, and best in the little touches, too. I’m sure, in that
children’s story’—(he meant ‘Simple Susan,’) ‘where the
little girl parts with her lamb, and the little boy brings it back to her again,
there’s nothing for it but just to put down the book, and cry.’ A
little afterwards, he said, ‘Do you know Moore?—he’s a
charming fellow—a perfect gentleman in society;—to use a sporting phrase, there’s
no kick in his gallop.’
“As we drew near home, I thought him somewhat fatigued—he was
more confused than at first in his recollection of names—and we drove on without saying
any thing. But I shall not forget the kindly good humour with which he said, in getting
out at his hotel door ‘Thank ye, for your kindness—your charity, I may say—to
an old lame man—farewell!’ He did not seem the worse of his little
exertion this day; but, thenceforward, was prudent in refusing all dinner
invitations.
“On Friday (December 10th), he went, in company with Mr Frere, to see Citta Vecchia. I drove over with a
lady friend to meet them at the church there. Sir
Walter seemed pleased with what was shown him, but was not animated. On
Saturday the 11th he drove out twice to see various things in Valetta. On Monday
morning the 13th, I saw him for the last time, when I called to take leave of Miss Scott. Dr
Davy accompanied him, in the course of the following morning, to see
Strada Stretta—the part of the city in which he had been told the young Knights of
Malta used to fight their duels, when such affairs occurred. In quitting the street,
Sir Walter looked round him earnestly, and said, ‘It
will be hard if I cannot make something of this.’ On that day, Tuesday
morning, December 14th, he and his party went again on board the Barham, and sailed for Naples.”
Sir William Alexander (1755-1842)
Educated at the Middle Temple, he was King's Counsel (1800) and Lord Chief Baron of the
Exchequer (1824-31).
Jane Austen (1775-1817)
English novelist, author of
Sense and Sensibility (1811) and
Pride and Prejudice (1813).
Matthew Baillie (1761-1823)
Physician and brother of Joanna Baillie; as successor to the anatomist William Hunter he
treated the pedal deformities of both Walter Scott and Lord Byron.
Sir John Barrow, first baronet (1764-1848)
English traveler, secretary of the Admiralty, and author of over two hundred articles in
the
Quarterly Review; he is remembered for his
Mutiny on the Bounty (1831).
Henry Bathurst, third earl Bathurst (1762-1834)
Tory statesman, the son of the second earl (d. 1794); he was master of the mint (1804),
president of the Board of Trade (1807-12), and secretary of state for war (1812-24).
Julia Bathurst [née Hankey] (1798 c.-1877)
The daughter of John Peter Hankey; in 1829 she married Thomas Seymour Bathurst, son of
the third earl Bathurst; Sir Thomas Lawrence painted her portrait.
Hon. Thomas Seymour Bathurst (1793-1834)
A younger son of the third earl of Bathurst; he served in the 1st Foot Guards and fought
at Waterloo.
Joseph Black (1728-1799)
Scottish chemist; he was professor of medicine at Glasgow (1756-66) and professor of
medicine and chemistry at Edinburgh (1766-97).
Edward Blore (1787-1879)
Artist, antiquary, and architect who built Walter Scott's house at Abbotsford; he
published
Monumental Remains of noble and eminent Persons comprising the
Sepulchral Antiquities of Great Britain (1826).
Patrick Brydone (1736-1818)
Scottish traveller who published
A Tour through Sicily and Malta: in a
series of letters to William Beckford, esq., 2 vols (1773). His companion in the
tour was evidently Richard Glover, son of the poet.
William Burn (1789-1870)
Scottish architect patronised by Walter Scott and the fifth duke of Buccleuch; his
projects included the Edinburgh Academy (1823-36).
Sir Colin Campbell (1776-1847)
After service in the Peninsular War and Waterloo he was governor of Nova Scotia (1833-39)
and Ceylon (1839-47). He was a friend of the Duke of Wellington.
Thomas Campbell (1777-1844)
Scottish poet and man of letters; author of
The Pleasures of Hope
(1799),
Gertrude of Wyoming (1808) and lyric odes. He edited the
New Monthly Magazine (1821-30).
Anthony Ashley- Cooper, seventh earl of Shaftesbury (1801-1885)
The son of the sixth earl (d. 1851); he was asocial reformer who introduced legislation
to relieve women and children laboring in coal mines and to limit the work-day for factory
laborers to ten hours.
John Wilson Croker (1780-1857)
Secretary of the Admiralty (1810) and writer for the
Quarterly
Review; he edited an elaborate edition of Boswell's
Life of
Johnson (1831).
Sir Humphry Davy, baronet (1778-1829)
English chemist and physicist, inventor of the safety lamp; in Bristol he knew Cottle,
Wordsworth, Coleridge, and Southey; he was president of the Royal Society (1820).
Lady Jane Davy [née Kerr] (1780-1855)
Society hostess who in 1798 married Shuckburgh Ashby Apreece (d. 1807) and Humphry Davy
in 1812.
John Davy (1790-1868)
The younger brother and biographer of Humphry Davy; he was educated at Edinburgh
University and was a military physician and writer.
Margaret Davy [née Fletcher] (1789-1869)
The daughter of the Edinburgh lawyer Archibald Fletcher and acquaintance of Walter Scott;
in 1830 she married John Davy.
Euphemia Dawson [née Erskine] (1831 fl.)
The daughter of Scott's friend William Erskine; in 1829 she married Captain George Dawson
(d. 11 October 1861) of the 73d Regiment.
Hon. Henry Duncan (1786 c.-1835)
The son of Admiral Adam Duncan; he was a distinguished naval commander in the Napoleonic
Wars.
Maria Edgeworth (1768-1849)
Irish novelist; author of
Castle Rackrent (1800)
Belinda (1801),
The Absentee (1812) and
Ormond (1817).
William Erskine, Lord Kinneder (1768-1822)
The son of an episcopal clergyman of the same name, he was a Scottish advocate and a
close friend and literary advisor to Sir Walter Scott.
Robert Ferguson (1799-1865)
Scottish physician and professor of midwifery; he was physician accoucheur to Queen
Victoria and a friend of Sir Walter Scott and John Gibson Lockhart. He published on
medicine in the
Quarterly Review.
Susan Edmonstone Ferrier (1782-1854)
Scottish novelist, the youngest daughter of James Ferrier (1744–1829) for whom she kept
house after the death of her mother; she published
The Inheritance
(1824).
Archibald Fletcher (1746-1828)
Scottish lawyer, Whig reformer, and neighbour of Walter Scott in Castle Street; he was
Writer to the Signet (1783) and Advocate (1791).
Sir Thomas Foley (1757-1833)
British naval officer who served under Nelson; he was commander-in-chief of the Downs
station (1811).
John Hookham Frere (1769-1846)
English diplomat and poet; educated at Eton and Cambridge, he was envoy to Lisbon
(1800-02) and Madrid (1802-04, 1808-09); with Canning conducted the
The
Anti-Jacobin (1797-98); author of
Prospectus and Specimen of an
intended National Work, by William and Robert Whistlecraft (1817, 1818).
David Garrick (1717-1779)
English actor, friend of Samuel Johnson, and manager of Drury Lane Theater.
Sir James Robert George Graham, second baronet (1792-1861)
Of Netherby, dandy, member of Brook's Club, Whig politician, and First Lord of the
Admiralty (1830); he published
Corn and Currency (1826) and was home
secretary (1841-46).
Sir Henry Halford, first baronet (1766-1844)
The second son of James Vaughan MD of Leicester; a court physician, he was created
baronet in 1814 and was president of the College of Physicians (1820-1844).
Captain Basil Hall (1788-1844)
Scottish seaman and traveler; after education at Edinburgh high school he entered the
Navy in 1802; he published
Fragments of Voyages and Travels
(1831-33) and other works.
Sir Henry Holland, first baronet (1788-1873)
English physician and frequenter of Holland House, the author of
Travels in the Ionian Isles, Albania, Thessaly, Macedonia etc. during 1812 and
1813 (1814) and
Recollections of Past Life (1872). His
second wife, Saba, was the daughter of Sydney Smith.
Sir Robert Harry Inglis, second baronet (1786-1855)
The son of Sir Hugh Inglis, educated at Winchester, Christ Church, Oxford, and Lincoln's
Inn; he was a Tory MP for Dundalk (1824-26), Ripon (1828-29), and Oxford University
(1829-54), and president of the Literary Club.
Charles Robert Leslie (1794-1859)
American-born genre-painter who came to England in 1811 and studied with fellow-Americans
Benjamin West and Washington Allston; he published
Memoirs of the Life of
John Constable (1843).
Sir John Liddell (1794-1868)
Scottish medical officer educated at Edinburgh University; he was at the Battle of
Navarino and served on the Barham during Sir Walter Scott's voyage to Naples; he was
inspector of fleets and hospitals (1844).
John Gibson Lockhart (1794-1854)
Editor of the
Quarterly Review (1825-1853); son-in-law of Walter
Scott and author of the
Life of Scott 5 vols (1838).
Sir Henry Lushington, second baronet (1775-1863)
The son of Sir Stephen Lushington, educated at Eton and Trinity College, Cambridge; he
succeeded his father in 1807 and was Consul-General at Naples (1815-32).
Colin Mackenzie of Portmore (1770-1830)
Scottish advocate; he was Principal Clerk of Session (1804-08) and Deputy Keeper of the
Signet (1820-28). He was a schoolmate and friend of Sir Walter Scott.
Sir James Mackintosh (1765-1832)
Scottish philosopher and man of letters who defended the French Revolution in
Vindiciae Gallicae (1791); he was Recorder of Bombay (1803-1812) and
MP for Knaresborough (1819-32).
Anne Macleod [née Stephenson] (d. 1861)
The daughter of John Stephenson and spouse of John Norman MacLeod of MacLeod; she was an
acquaintance of Walter Scott.
John Norman Macleod (1788-1835)
The 24th Chief of Macleod; educated at Harrow and Oxford, he was MP for Sudbury
(1828-30); Walter Scott visited him in his island tour of 1814.
Sir John Malcolm (1769-1833)
Indian administrator and diplomat; author of
Political History of
India (1811); his life of Clive was posthumously published in 1836.
Sir Pulteney Malcolm (1768-1838)
Naval officer, the elder brother of Sir John Malcolm; he was commander-in-chief in the
Mediterranean, 1828-31 and 1833-34.
Henry Hart Milman (1791-1868)
Educated at Eton and Brasenose College, Oxford, he was a poet, historian and dean of St
Paul's (1849) who wrote for the
Quarterly Review.
Jane Margaret Montagu [née Douglas] (1779-1859)
The daughter of Archibald James Edward Douglas, first Baron Douglas of Douglas; in 1804
she married Henry James Montagu-Scott, second Baron Montagu, son of the third Duke of
Buccleuch.
Thomas Moore (1779-1852)
Irish poet and biographer, author of the
Irish Melodies (1807-34),
The Fudge Family in Paris (1818), and
Lalla
Rookh (1817); he was Byron's close friend and designated biographer.
Emperor Napoleon I (1769-1821)
Military leader, First Consul (1799), and Emperor of the French (1804), after his
abdication he was exiled to Elba (1814); after his defeat at Waterloo he was exiled to St.
Helena (1815).
John Ayrton Paris (1785-1856)
Writer, geologist, and president of the Royal College of Physicians (1844-56).
Henry Phillpotts, bishop of Exeter (1778-1869)
High-church Tory clergyman and controversialist opposed to Catholic emancipation; he was
dean of Chester (1828) and bishop of Exeter (1830).
Sir Hugh Pigot (1776-1857)
The illegitimate son of George Pigot, first Baron Pigot of Patshull; after a
distinguished naval career he retired as Admiral of the White.
Sir Frederick Cavendish Ponsonby (1783-1837)
The second son of the third earl of Bessborough, and brother of Lady Caroline Lamb; he
was MP (1806-30); after a distinguished career in the Peninsular War and being wounded at
Waterloo he was governor of Malta (1826-35).
Thomas Purdie (1767-1829)
Sir Walter Scott's forester; they originally met when Purdie was brought before Sheriff
Scott on charges of poaching.
Samuel Rogers (1763-1855)
English poet, banker, and aesthete, author of the ever-popular
Pleasures of Memory (1792),
Columbus (1810),
Jaqueline (1814), and
Italy (1822-28).
Anne Scott (1803-1833)
Walter Scott's younger daughter who cared for him in his old age and died
unmarried.
Charles Scott (1805-1841)
The younger son of Sir Walter Scott; educated at Oxford, he pursued a career in diplomacy
and died in Tehran.
John Scott of Gala (1790-1840)
Scottish laird and lifelong friend of Walter Scott; they traveled together to Waterloo in
1815.
Sir Walter Scott, second baronet (1801-1847)
The elder son and heir of Sir Walter Scott; he was cornet in the 18th Hussars (1816),
captain (1825), lieut.-col. (1839). In the words of Maria Edgeworth, he was
“excessively shy, very handsome, not at all literary.”
Charles Kirkpatrick Sharpe (1781-1851)
Scottish poet, painter, editor, antiquary, and eccentric; he edited James Kirkton's
Secret and True History of the Church of Scotland (1817) with
elaborate notes mocking his author.
Thomas Sheridan (1775-1817)
Actor, son of Richard Brinsley Sheridan and Elizabeth Linley; he was manager of Drury
Lane when it burned in 1808; he died of consumption, the disease that killed his
mother.
James Skene of Rubislaw (1775-1864)
A life-long friend of Sir Walter Scott, who dedicated a canto of
Marmion to him.
James Henry Skene (1812-1886)
Son os James Skene, friend of Sir Walter Scott; after a military career he entered the
diplomatic service under Lord Stratford de Redcliffe and was consul-general at
Aleppo.
Jane Skene (1787-1862)
The daughter of Sir William Forbes of Pitsligo (1739-1806); in 1806 she married James
Skene. Both Skenes were friends of Sir Walter Scott.
William Smyth (1765-1849)
The son of a Liverpool banker, he was educated at Eton and Peterhouse, Cambridge, and was
Professor of Modern History at Cambridge (1807). He published of
English
Lyricks (1797) and
Lectures on Modern History
(1840).
Philip Henry Stanhope, fifth earl Stanhope (1805-1875)
Historian and man of letters, the son of the fourth earl; he published
The History of England from the Peace of Utrecht to the Peace of Versailles,
1713-1783, 7 vols, (1836-53).
Sir John Stoddart (1773-1856)
Educated at Christ Church, Oxford, he befriended Coleridge and Wordsworth and after
abandoning his early republican principles became a writer for the
Times, and afterwards editor of the Tory newspaper
New
Times in 1817 and a judge in Malta (1826-40). His sister married William Hazlitt
in 1808.
Lady Louisa Stuart (1757-1851)
The youngest child of John Stuart, third earl of Bute; she corresponded with Sir Walter
Scott. Several volumes of her writings and memoirs were published after her death.
Helen Walker (1711-1791)
The daughter of William Walker, Scott's model for Jeannie Deans in
Heart of Mid-Lothian.
John William Ward, earl of Dudley (1781-1833)
The son of William Ward, third Viscount Dudley (d. 1823); educated at Edinburgh and
Oxford, he was an English MP, sometimes a Foxite Whig and sometimes Canningite Tory, who
suffered from insanity in his latter years.
George Byrom Whittaker (1793-1847)
London bookseller, the London agent for Robert Cadell, who published, among other things,
educational titles and works by Mary Russell Mitford.
Sir David Wilkie (1785-1841)
Scottish-born artist whose genre-paintings were much admired; he was elected to the Royal
Academy in 1811.