Chapter XLVI

Political Alarms. -- The Radicals. -- Levies of Volunteers. --
Project of the Buccleuch Legion. -- Death of Scott's Mother, her
Brother Dr. Rutherford, and her Sister Christian. -- Letters to
Lord Montagu, Mr. Thomas Scott, Cornet Scott, Mr. Laidlaw, and
Lady Louisa Stuart. -- Publication of Ivanhoe.

1819

_After the painting at Abbotsford_]

Towards the winter of 1819 there prevailed a spirit of alarming insubordination among the mining population of Northumberland and the weavers of the West of Scotland; and Scott was particularly gratified with finding that his own neighbors at Galashiels had escaped the contagion. There can be little doubt that this exemption was principally owing to the personal influence and authority of the Laird of Abbotsford and Sheriff of the Forest; but the people of Galashiels were also fortunate in the qualities of their own beneficent landlords, Mr. Scott of Gala, and Mr. Pringle of Torwoodlee. The progress of the western _Reformers_ by degrees led even the most important Whigs in that district to exert themselves in the organization of volunteer regiments, both mounted and dismounted; and, when it became generally suspected that Glasgow and Paisley maintained a dangerous correspondence with the refractory colliers of Northumberland--Scott, and his friends the Lairds of Torwoodlee and Gala, determined to avail themselves of the loyalty and spirit of the men of Ettrick and Teviotdale, and proposed first raising a company of sharpshooters among their own immediate neighbors, and afterwards--this plan receiving every encouragement--a legion or brigade upon a large scale, to be called the Buccleuch Legion. During November and December, 1819, these matters formed the chief daily care and occupation of the author of Ivanhoe; and though he was still obliged to dictate most of the chapters of his novel, we shall see that, in case it should be necessary for the projected levy of Foresters to march upon Tynedale, he was prepared to place himself at their head.

He had again intended, as soon as he should have finished Ivanhoe, to proceed to London, and receive his baronetcy; but as that affair had been crossed at Easter by his own illness, so at Christmas it was again obliged to be put off in consequence of a heavy series of domestic afflictions. Within one week Scott lost his excellent mother, his uncle Dr. Daniel Rutherford, Professor of Botany in the University of Edinburgh--and their sister, Christian Rutherford, already often mentioned as one of the dearest and most esteemed of all his friends and connections.

The following letters require no further introduction or comment:--

TO THE LORD MONTAGU, BUXTON.

ABBOTSFORD, 12th November, 1819.

MY DEAR LORD,--... I wish I had any news to send your Lordship;
but the best is, we are all quiet here. The Galashiels weavers,
both men and masters, have made their political creed known to
me, and have sworn themselves anti-radical. They came in solemn
procession, with their banners, and my own piper at their head,
whom they had borrowed for the nonce. But the Tweed being in
flood, we could only communicate like Wallace and Bruce across
the Carron. However, two deputies came through in the boat, and
made me acquainted with their loyal purposes. The evening was
crowned with two most distinguished actions--the weavers
refusing, in the most peremptory manner, to accept of a couple of
guineas to buy whiskey, and the renowned John of Skye, piper in
ordinary to the Laird of Abbotsford, no less steadily refusing a
very handsome collection, which they offered him for his
minstrelsy. All this sounds very nonsensical, but the people must
be humored and countenanced when they take the right turn,
otherwise they will be sure to take the wrong. The accounts from
the West sometimes make me wish our little Duke five or six years
older, and able to get on horseback. It seems approaching to the
old song--

"Come fill up our cup, come fill up our can,
Come saddle the horses, and call up our men,
Come open the gates, and let us go free,
And we'll show them the bonnets of bonny Dundee."[58]

I am rather too old for that work now, and I cannot look forward
to it with the sort of feeling that resembled pleasure--as I did
in my younger and more healthy days. However, I have got a good
following here, and will endeavor to keep them together till
times mend.

My respectful compliments attend Lady Montagu, and I am always,
with the greatest regard, your Lordship's very faithful

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 58: See Scott's _Poetical Works_, vol. xii. p. 195 [Cambridge Ed. p. 485].]

TO CORNET WALTER SCOTT, 18TH HUSSARS.

EDINBURGH, 13th November, 1819.

DEAR WALTER,--I am much surprised and rather hurt at not hearing
from you for so long a while. You ought to remember that, however
pleasantly the time may be passing with you, we at home have some
right to expect that a part of it (a very small part will serve
the turn) should be dedicated, were it but for the sake of
propriety, to let us know what you are about. I cannot say I
shall be flattered by finding myself under the necessity of again
complaining of neglect. To write once a week, to one or other of
us, is no great sacrifice, and it is what I earnestly pray you to
do.

We are to have great doings in Edinburgh this winter. No less
than Prince Gustavus of Sweden is to pass the season here, and do
what Princes call studying. He is but half a Prince either, for
this Northern Star is somewhat shorn of his beams. His father
was, you know, dethroned by Buonaparte, at least by the influence
of his arms, and one of his generals, Bernadotte, made heir of
the Swedish throne in his stead. But this youngster, I suppose,
has his own dreams of royalty, for he is nephew to the Emperor of
Russia (by the mother's side), and that is a likely connection to
be of use to him, should the Swedish nobles get rid of
Bernadotte, as it is said they wish to do. Lord Melville has
recommended the said Prince particularly to my attention, though
I do not see how I can do much for him.

I have just achieved my grand remove from Abbotsford to
Edinburgh--a motion which you know I do not make with great
satisfaction. We had the Abbotsford hunt last week. The company
was small, as the newspapers say, but select, and we had
excellent sport, killing eight hares. We coursed on Gala's
ground, and he was with us. The dinner went off with its usual
alacrity, but we wanted you and Sally to ride and mark for us.

I enclose another letter from Mrs. Dundas of Arniston. I am
afraid you have been careless in not delivering those I formerly
forwarded, because in one of them, which Mrs. Dundas got from a
friend, there was enclosed a draft for some money. I beg you will
be particular in delivering any letters entrusted to you, because
though the good-nature of the writers may induce them to write to
be of service to you, yet it is possible that they may, as in
this instance, add things which are otherwise of importance to
their correspondents. It is probable that you may have picked up
among your military friends the idea that the mess of a regiment
is all in all sufficient to itself; but when you see a little of
the world you will be satisfied that none but pedants--for there
is pedantry in all professions--herd exclusively together, and
that those who do so are laughed at in real good company. This
you may take on the authority of one who has seen more of life
and society, in all its various gradations, from the highest to
the lowest, than a whole hussar regimental mess, and who would be
much pleased by knowing that you reap the benefit of an
experience which has raised him from being a person of small
consideration to the honor of being father of an officer of
hussars. I therefore enclose another letter from the same kind
friend, of which I pray you to avail yourself. In fact, those
officers who associate entirely among themselves see and know no
more of the world than their messman, and get conceited and
disagreeable by neglecting the opportunities offered for
enlarging their understanding. Every distinguished soldier whom I
have known, and I have known many, was a man of the world, and
accustomed to general society.

To sweeten my lecture, I have to inform you that, this being
quarter-day, I have a remittance of L50 to send you whenever you
are pleased to let me know it will be acceptable--for, like a
ghost, I will not speak again till I am spoken to.

I wish you not to avail yourself of your leave of absence this
winter, because, if my health continues good, I shall endeavor to
go on the Continent next summer, and should be very desirous to
have you with me; therefore, I beg you to look after your French
and German. We had a visit from a very fine fellow indeed at
Abbotsford,--Sir Thomas Brisbane, who long commanded a brigade in
the Peninsula. He is very scientific, but bores no one with it,
being at the same time a well-informed man on all subjects, and
particularly alert in his own profession, and willing to talk
about what he has seen. Sir Harry Hay Macdougal, whose eldest
daughter he is to marry, brought him to Abbotsford on a sort of
wedding visit, as we are cousins according to the old fashion of
country kin; Beardie, of whom Sir Harry has a beautiful picture,
being a son of an Isabel Macdougal, who was, I fancy, grand-aunt
to Sir Harry.

Once more, my dear Walter, write more frequently, and do not
allow yourself to think that the first neglect in correspondence
I have ever had to complain of has been on your part. I hope you
have received the Meerschaum pipe.--I remain your affectionate
father,

WALTER SCOTT.

TO THE SAME.

EDINBURGH, 3d December, 1819.

MY DEAR WALTER,--I hope your servant proves careful and trusty.
Pray let me know this. At any rate, do not trust him a bit
further than you can help it, for in buying anything you will get
it much cheaper yourself than he will. We are now settled for the
winter; that is, all of them excepting myself, who must soon look
southwards. On Saturday we had a grand visitor, _i. e._, the
Crown Prince of Sweden, under the name of Count Itterburg. His
travelling companion or tutor is Baron de Polier, a Swiss of
eminence in literature and rank. They took a long look at King
Charles XII., who, you cannot have forgotten, keeps his post over
the dining-room chimney; and we were all struck with the
resemblance betwixt old Ironhead, as the janissaries called him,
and his descendant. The said descendant is a very fine lad, with
very soft and mild manners, and we passed the day very
pleasantly. They were much diverted with Captain Adam,[59] who
outdid his usual outdoings, and, like the Barber of Bagdad,
danced the dance and sung the song of every person he spoke of.

I am concerned I cannot give a very pleasant account of things
here. Glasgow is in a terrible state. The Radicals had a plan to
seize on 1000 stand of arms, as well as a depot of ammunition,
which had been sent from Edinburgh Castle for the use of the
volunteers. The Commander-in-Chief, Sir Thomas Bradford, went to
Glasgow in person, and the whole city was occupied with patrols
of horse and foot, to deter them from the meditated attack on the
barracks. The arms were then delivered to the volunteers, who are
said to be 4000 on paper; how many effective and trustworthy, I
know not. But it was a new sight in Scotland on a Sunday to see
all the inhabitants in arms, soldiers patrolling the streets, and
the utmost precaution of military service exacted and observed in
an apparently peaceful city.

The Old Blue Regiment of volunteers was again summoned together
yesterday. They did not muster very numerous, and looked most of
them a little _ancient_. However, they are getting recruits fast,
and then the veterans may fall out of the ranks. The
Commander-in-Chief has told the President that he may soon be
obliged to leave the charge of the Castle to these armed
citizens. This looks serious. The President[60] made one of the
most eloquent addresses that ever was heard, to the Old Blues.
The Highland Chiefs have offered to raise their clans, and march
them to any point in Scotland where their services shall be
required. To be sure, the Glasgow folks would be a little
surprised at the arrival of Dugald Dhu, "brogues an' brochan an'
a'." I shall, I think, bid Ballantyne send you a copy of his
weekly paper, which often contains things you would like to see,
and will keep you in mind of Old Scotland.

They are embodying a troop of cavalry in Edinburgh--nice young
men and good horses. They have paid me the compliment to make me
an honorary member of the corps, as my days of active service
have been long over. Pray take care, however, of my sabre, in
case the time comes which must turn out all.

I have almost settled that, if things look moderately tranquil in
Britain in spring and summer, I will go abroad, and take Charles,
with the purpose of leaving him, for two or three years, at the
famous institution of Fellenborg, near Berne, of which I hear
very highly. Two of Fraser Tytler's sons are there, and he makes
a very favorable report of the whole establishment. I think that
such a residence abroad will not only make him well acquainted
with French and German, as indeed he will hear nothing else, but
also prevent his becoming an Edinburgh _petit-maitre_ of fourteen
or fifteen, which he could otherwise scarce avoid. I mentioned to
you that I should be particularly glad to get you leave of
absence, providing it does not interfere with your duty, in order
that you may go with us. If I have cash enough, I will also take
your sister and mamma, and you might return home with them by
Paris, in case I went on to Italy. All this is doubtful, but I
think it is almost certain that Charles and I go, and hope to
have you with us. This will be probably about July next, and I
wish you particularly to keep it in view. If these dark prospects
become darker, which God forbid! neither you nor I will have it
in our power to leave the post to which duty calls us.

Mamma and the girls are quite well, and so is Master Charles, who
is of course more magnificent, as being the only specimen of
youthhead at home. He has got an old broadsword hanging up at his
bed-head, which, to be the more ready for service, hath no
sheath. To this I understand we are to trust for our defence
against the Radicals. Anne (notwithstanding the assurance) is so
much afraid of the disaffected, that last night, returning with
Sophia from Portobello, where they had been dancing with the
Scotts of Harden, she saw a Radical in every man that the
carriage passed. Sophia is of course wise and philosophical, and
mamma has not yet been able to conceive why we do not catch and
hang the whole of them, untried and unconvicted. Amidst all their
various emotions, they join in best love to you; and I always am
very truly yours,

W. SCOTT.

P. S.--I shall set off for London on the 25th.

[Footnote 59: Sir Adam Ferguson.]

[Footnote 60: The Right Honorable Charles Hope, Lord President of the Court of Session, was Colonel-commandant of the Old Blues, or First Regiment of Edinburgh Volunteers.]

TO THE SAME.

EDINBURGH, 17th December, 1819.

MY DEAR WALTER,--I have a train of most melancholy news to
acquaint you with. On Saturday I saw your grandmother perfectly
well, and on Sunday the girls drank tea with her, when the good
old lady was more than usually in spirits; and, as if she had
wished to impress many things on their memory, told over a number
of her old stories with her usual alertness and vivacity. On
Monday she had an indisposition, which proved to be a paralytic
affection, and on Tuesday she was speechless, and had lost the
power of one side, without any hope of recovery, although she may
linger some days. But what is very remarkable, and no less
shocking, Dr. Rutherford, who attended his sister in perfect
health upon Tuesday, died himself upon the Wednesday morning. He
had breakfasted without intimating the least illness, and was
dressed to go out, and particularly to visit my mother, when he
sunk backwards, and died in his daughter Anne's arms, almost
without a groan. To add to this melancholy list, our poor friend,
Miss Christie, is despaired of. She was much affected by my
mother's fatal indisposition, but does not know as yet of her
brother's death.

Dr. Rutherford was a very ingenious as well as an excellent man,
more of a gentleman than his profession too often are, for he
could not take the back-stairs mode of rising in it, otherwise he
might have been much more wealthy. He ought to have had the
Chemistry class, as he was one of the best chemists in
Europe;[61] but superior interest assigned it to another, who,
though a neat experimentalist, is not to be compared to poor
Daniel for originality of genius. Since you knew him, his health
was broken and his spirits dejected, which may be traced to the
loss of his eldest son on board an East Indiaman, and also, I
think, to a slight paralytic touch which he had some years ago.

To all this domestic distress I have to add the fearful and
unsettled state of the country. All the regular troops are gone
to Glasgow. The Mid-Lothian Yeomanry and other corps of
volunteers went there on Monday, and about 5000 men occupied the
town. In the mean while, we were under considerable apprehension
here, the Castle being left in the charge of the city volunteers
and a few veterans.

All our corner, high and low, is loyal. Torwoodlee, Gala, and I,
have offered to raise a corps, to be called the Loyal Foresters,
to act anywhere south of the Forth. If matters get worse, I will
ask leave of absence for you from the Commander-in-Chief, because
your presence will be materially useful to levy men, and you can
only be idle where you are, unless Ireland should be disturbed.
Your old corps of the Selkirkshire Yeomanry have been under
orders, and expect to be sent either to Dumfries or Carlisle.
Berwick is dismantled, and they are removing the stores, cannon,
etc., from one of the strongest places here, for I defy the devil
to pass the bridge at Berwick, if reasonably well kept by 100
men. But there is a spirit of consternation implied in many of
the orders, which, _entre nous_, I like worse than what I see or
know of the circumstances which infer real danger. For myself I
am too old to fight, but nobody is too old to die, like a man of
virtue and honor, in defence of the principles he has always
maintained.

I would have you to keep yourself ready to return here suddenly,
in case the Duke of York should permit your temporary services in
your own country, which, if things grow worse, I will certainly
ask. The fearful thing is the secret and steady silence observed
by the Radicals in all they do. Yet, without anything like
effective arms or useful discipline, without money and without a
commissariat, what can they do, but, according to their favorite
toast, have blood and plunder? Mamma and the girls, as well as
Charles, send kind love. Your affectionate father,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 61: "The subject of his _Thesis_ is singular, and entitles Rutherford to rank very high among the chemical philosophers of modern times. Its title is _De Aere Mephitico_, etc.--It is universally admitted that Dr. Rutherford first discovered this gas--the reputation of his discovery being speedily spread through Europe, his character as a chemist of the first eminence was firmly established, and much was augured from a young man in his twenty-second year having distinguished himself so remarkably."--Bower's _History of the University of Edinburgh_, vol. iii. (1830), pp. 260, 261.]

TO MR. WILLIAM LAIDLAW, KAESIDE.

EDINBURGH, December 20, 1819.

MY DEAR WILLIE,--Distress has been very busy with me since I
wrote to you. I have lost, in the course of one week, my valued
relations, Dr. and Miss Rutherford--happy in this, that neither
knew of the other's dissolution. My dear mother has offered me
deeper subject of affliction, having been struck with the palsy,
and being now in such a state that I scarce hope to see her
again.

But the strange times compel me, under this pressure of domestic
distress, to attend to public business. I find Mr. Scott of Gala
agrees with me in thinking we should appeal at this crisis to the
good sense and loyalty of the lower orders, and we have resolved
to break the ice, and be the first in the Lowlands, so far as I
have yet heard of, to invite our laborers and those over whom
circumstances and fortune give us influence, to rise with us in
arms, and share our fate. You know, as well as any one, that I
have always spent twice the income of my property in giving work
to my neighbors, and I hope they will not be behind the
Galashiels people, who are very zealous. Gala and I go hand in
hand, and propose to raise at least a company each of men, to be
drilled as sharpshooters or infantry, which will be a lively and
interesting amusement for the young fellows. The dress we propose
to be as simple, and at the same time as serviceable, as
possible;--a jacket and trousers of Galashiels gray cloth, and a
smart bonnet with a small feather, or, to save even that expense,
a sprig of holly. And we will have shooting at the mark, and
prizes, and fun, and a little whiskey, and daily pay when on duty
or drill. I beg of you, dear Willie, to communicate my wish to
all who have received a good turn at my hand, or may expect one,
or may be desirous of doing me one--(for I should be sorry
Darnick and Brigend were beat)--and to all other free and honest
fellows who will take share with me on this occasion. I do not
wish to take any command farther than such as shall entitle me to
go with the corps, for I wish it to be distinctly understood
that, in whatever capacity, _I go with them_, and take a share in
good or bad as it casts up. I cannot doubt that I will have your
support, and I hope you will use all your enthusiasm in our
behalf. Morrison volunteers as our engineer. Those who I think
should be spoke to are the following, among the higher class:--

John Usher.[62] He should be lieutenant, or his son ensign.

Sam Somerville.[63] I will speak to him--he may be lieutenant,
if Usher declines; but I think, in that case, Usher should give
us his son.

Young Nicol Milne[64] is rather young, but I will offer to his
father to take him in.

Harper[65] is a _sine qua non_. Tell him I depend on him for the
honor of Darnick. I should propose to him to take a gallant
halbert.

Adam Ferguson thinks you should be our adjutant. John Ferguson I
propose for captain. He is steady, right bold, and has seen much
fire. The auld captain will help us in one shape or other. For
myself, I know not what they propose to make of me, but it cannot
be anything very active. However, I should like to have a steady
quiet horse, drilled to stand fire well, and if he has these
properties, no matter how stupid, so he does not stumble. In this
case the price of such a horse will be no object.

These, my dear friend, are your beating orders. I would propose
to raise about sixty men, and not to take old men. John the
Turk[66] will be a capital corporal; and I hope in general that
all my young fellows will go with me, leaving the older men to go
through necessary labor. Sound Tom what he would like. I think,
perhaps, he would prefer managing matters at home in your absence
and mine at drill.

John of Skye is cock-a-hoop upon the occasion, and I suppose has
made fifty blunders about it by this time. You must warn Tom
Jamieson, Gordon Winness, John Swanston (who will carry off all
the prizes at shooting), Davidson, and so forth.

If you think it necessary, a little handbill might be
circulated. But it may be better to see if Government will accept
our services; and I think, in the situation of the country, when
work is scarce, and we offer pay for their playing themselves, we
should have choice of men. But I would urge no one to do what he
did not like.

The very precarious state of my poor mother detains me here, and
makes me devolve this troublesome duty upon you. All you have to
do, however, is to sound the men, and mark down those who seem
zealous. They will perhaps have to fight with the pitmen and
colliers of Northumberland for defence of their firesides, for
these literal _blackguards_ are got beyond the management of
their own people. And if such is the case, better keep them from
coming into Scotland, than encounter the mischief they might do
there.

Yours always most truly,

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 62: Mr. Usher has already been mentioned as Scott's predecessor in the property of Toftfield. He now resided near those lands, and was Scott's tenant on the greater part of them.]

[Footnote 63: Samuel Somerville, W. S. (a son of the historian of Queen Anne), had a pretty villa at Lowood, on the Tweed, immediately opposite the seat of his relation, Lord Somerville, of whose estate he had the management.]

[Footnote 64: Nicol Milne, Esq. (now advocate), eldest son of the Laird of Faldonside.]

[Footnote 65: Harper, keeper of a little inn at Darnick, was a gallant and spirited yeoman--uniformly the gainer of the prizes at every contest of strength and agility in that district.]

[Footnote 66: One of Scott's foresters--thus designated as being, in all senses of the word, a _gallant_ fellow.]

TO THOMAS SCOTT, ESQ., 70th REGIMENT, KINGSTON, CANADA.

EDINBURGH, 22d December, 1819.

MY DEAR TOM,--I wrote you about ten days since, stating that we
were all well here. In that very short space a change so sudden
and so universal has taken place among your friends here, that I
have to communicate to you a most miserable catalogue of losses.
Our dear mother was on Sunday the 12th December in all her usual
strength and alertness of mind. I had seen and conversed with her
on the Saturday preceding, and never saw her better in my life of
late years. My two daughters drank tea with her on Sunday, when
she was uncommonly lively, telling them a number of stories, and
being in rather unusual spirits, probably from the degree of
excitation which sometimes is remarked to precede a paralytic
affection. In the course of Monday she received that fatal
summons, which at first seemed slight; but in the night betwixt
Monday and Tuesday our mother lost the use both of speech and of
one side. Since that time she has lain in bed constantly, yet so
sensible as to see me and express her earnest blessing on all of
us. The power of speech is totally lost; nor is there any hope,
at her advanced age, that the scene can last long. Probably a few
hours will terminate it. At any rate, life is not to be wished,
even for our nearest and dearest, in those circumstances. But
this heavy calamity was only the commencement of our family
losses. Dr. Rutherford, who had seemed perfectly well, and had
visited my mother upon Tuesday the 14th, was suddenly affected
with gout in his stomach, or some disease equally rapid, on
Wednesday the 15th, and, without a moment's warning or complaint,
fell down a dead man, almost without a single groan. You are
aware of his fondness for animals: he was just stroking his cat
after eating his breakfast, as usual, when, without more warning
than a half-uttered exclamation, he sunk on the ground, and died
in the arms of his daughter Anne. Though the Doctor had no formed
complaint, yet I have thought him looking poorly for some months;
and though there was no failure whatever in intellect, or
anything which approached it, yet his memory was not so good; and
I thought he paused during the last time he attended me, and had
difficulty in recollecting the precise terms of his recipe.
Certainly there was a great decay of outward strength. We were
very anxious about the effect this fatal news was likely to
produce on the mind and decayed health of our aunt, Miss C.
Rutherford, and resolved, as her health had been gradually
falling off ever since she returned from Abbotsford, that she
should never learn anything of it until it was impossible to
conceal it longer. But God had so ordered it that she was never
to know the loss she had sustained, and which she would have felt
so deeply. On Friday the 17th December, the second day after her
brother's death, she expired, without a groan and without
suffering, about six in the morning. And so we lost an excellent
and warm-hearted relation, one of the few women I ever knew
whose strength of mental faculties enabled her, at a mature
period of life, to supply the defects of an imperfect education.
It is a most uncommon and afflicting circumstance, that a brother
and two sisters should be taken ill the same day--that two of
them should die, without any rational possibility of the
survivance of the third--and that no one of the three could be
affected by learning the loss of the other. The Doctor was buried
on Monday the 20th, and Miss Rutherford this day (Wednesday the
22d), in the burial-place adjoining to and surrounding one of the
new Episcopal chapels,[67] where Robert Rutherford[68] had
purchased a burial-ground of some extent, and parted with one
half to the Russells. It is surrounded with a very high wall, and
all the separate burial-grounds (five, I think, in number) are
separated by party-walls going down to the depth of twelve feet,
so as to prevent the possibility either of encroachment, or of
disturbing the relics of the dead. I have purchased one half of
Miss Russell's interest in this sad spot, moved by its extreme
seclusion, privacy, and security. When poor Jack was buried in
the Greyfriars' Churchyard, where my father and Anne lie,[69] I
thought their graves more encroached upon than I liked to
witness; and in this new place I intend to lay our poor mother
when the scene shall close; so that the brother and the two
sisters, whose fate has been so very closely entwined in death,
may not be divided in the grave,--and this I hope you will
approve of.

_Thursday, December 23d._--My mother still lingers this morning,
and as her constitution is so excellent, she may perhaps continue
to exist some time, or till another stroke. It is a great
consolation that she is perfectly easy. All her affairs of every
sort have been very long arranged for this great change, and
with the assistance of Donaldson and Macculloch, you may depend,
when the event takes place, that your interest will be attended
to most pointedly.--I hope our civil tumults here are like to be
ended by the measures of Parliament. I mentioned in my last that
Kinloch of Kinloch was to be tried for sedition. He has forfeited
his bail, and was yesterday laid under outlawry for
non-appearance. Our neighbors in Northumberland are in a
deplorable state; upwards of 50,000 blackguards are ready to rise
between Tyne and Wear.[70] On the other hand, the Scottish
frontiers are steady and loyal, and arming fast. Scott of Gala
and I have offered 200 men, all fine strapping young fellows, and
good marksmen, willing to go anywhere with us. We could easily
double the number. So the necessity of the times has made me get
on horseback once more. Our mother has at different times been
perfectly conscious of her situation, and knew every one, though
totally unable to speak. She seemed to take a very affectionate
farewell of me the last time I saw her, which was the day before
yesterday; and as she was much agitated, Dr. Keith advised I
should not see her again, unless she seemed to desire it, which
hitherto she has not done. She sleeps constantly, and will
probably be so removed. Our family sends love to yours. Yours
most affectionately:--

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 67: St. John's Chapel.]

[Footnote 68: Robert Rutherford, Esq., W. S., son to the Professor of Botany.]

[Footnote 69: "Our family heretofore buried in the Greyfriars' Churchyard, close by the entrance to Heriot's Hospital, and on the southern or left-hand side as you pass from the churchyard."--_MS. Memorandum._]

[Footnote 70: This was a ridiculously exaggerated report of that period of alarm.]

Scott's excellent mother died on the 24th December--the day after he closed the foregoing letter to his brother.

On the 18th, in the midst of these accumulated afflictions, the romance of Ivanhoe made its appearance. The date has been torn from the following letter, but it was evidently written while all these events were fresh and recent:--

TO THE LADY LOUISA STUART, DITTON PARK, WINDSOR.

DEAR LADY LOUISA,--I am favored with your letter from Ditton, and
am glad you found anything to entertain you in Ivanhoe.[71]
Novelty is what this giddy-paced time demands imperiously, and I
certainly studied as much as I could to get out of the old beaten
track, leaving those who like to keep the road, which I have
rutted pretty well. I have had a terrible time of it this year,
with the loss of dear friends and near relations; it is almost
fearful to count up my losses, as they make me bankrupt in
society. My brother-in-law; our never-to-be-enough regretted
Duke; Lord Chief Baron, my early, kind, and constant friend, who
took me up when I was a young fellow of little mark or
likelihood; the wife of my intimate friend William Erskine; the
only son of my friend David Hume, a youth of great promise, and
just entering into life, who had grown up under my eye from
childhood; my excellent mother; and, within a few days, her
surviving brother and sister. My mother was the only one of these
whose death was the natural consequence of very advanced life.
And our sorrows are not at an end. A sister of my mother's, Mrs.
Russell of Ashestiel, long deceased, had left (besides several
sons, of whom only one now survives and is in India) three
daughters, who lived with her youngest sister, Miss Rutherford,
and were in the closest habits of intimacy with us. The eldest of
these girls, and a most excellent creature she is, was in summer
so much shocked by the sudden news of the death of one of the
brothers I have mentioned, that she was deprived of the use of
her limbs by an affection either nervous or paralytic. She was
slowly recovering from this afflicting and helpless situation,
when the sudden fate of her aunts and uncle, particularly of her
who had acted as a mother to the family, brought on a new shock;
and though perfectly possessed of her mind, she has never since
been able to utter a word. Her youngest sister, a girl of one or
two and twenty, was so much shocked by this scene of accumulated
distress, that she was taken very ill, and having suppressed and
concealed her disorder, relief came too late, and she has been
taken from us also. She died in the arms of the elder sister,
helpless as I have described her; and to separate the half dead
from the actual corpse was the most melancholy thing possible.
You can hardly conceive, dear Lady Louisa, the melancholy feeling
of seeing the place of last repose belonging to the devoted
family open four times within so short a space, and to meet the
same group of sorrowing friends and relations on the same
sorrowful occasion. Looking back on those whom I have lost, all
well known to me excepting my brother-in-law, whom I could only
judge of by the general report in his favor, I can scarce
conceive a group possessing more real worth and amiable
qualities, not to mention talents and accomplishments. I have
never felt so truly what Johnson says so well,--

"Condemn'd to Hope's delusive mine,
As on we toil from day to day,
By sudden blasts, or slow decline,
Our social comforts drop away."[72]

I am not sure whether it was your Ladyship, or the poor Duchess
of Buccleuch, who met my mother once, and flattered me by being
so much pleased with the good old lady. She had a mind peculiarly
well stored with much acquired information and natural talent,
and as she was very old, and had an excellent memory, she could
draw without the least exaggeration or affectation the most
striking pictures of the past age. If I have been able to do
anything in the way of painting the past times, it is very much
from the studies with which she presented me. She connected a
long period of time with the present generation, for she
remembered, and had often spoken with, a person who perfectly
recollected the battle of Dunbar, and Oliver Cromwell's
subsequent entry into Edinburgh. She preserved her faculties to
the very day before her final illness; for our friends Mr. and
Mrs. Scott of Harden visited her on the Sunday; and, coming to
our house after, were expressing their surprise at the alertness
of her mind, and the pleasure which she had in talking over both
ancient and modern events. She had told them with great accuracy
the real story of the Bride of Lammermuir, and pointed out
wherein it differed from the novel. She had all the names of the
parties, and detailed (for she was a great genealogist) their
connection with existing families. On the subsequent Monday she
was struck with a paralytic affection, suffered little, and that
with the utmost patience; and what was God's reward, and a great
one to her innocent and benevolent life, she never knew that her
brother and sister, the last thirty years younger than herself,
had trodden the dark path before her. She was a strict economist,
which she said enabled her to be liberal; out of her little
income of about L300 a year, she bestowed at least a third in
well-chosen charities, and with the rest lived like a
gentlewoman, and even with hospitality more general than seemed
to suit her age; yet I could never prevail on her to accept of
any assistance. You cannot conceive how affecting it was to me to
see the little preparations of presents which she had assorted
for the New Year--for she was a great observer of the old
fashions of her period--and to think that the kind heart was cold
which delighted in all these acts of kindly affection. I should
apologize, I believe, for troubling your ladyship with these
melancholy details; but you would not thank me for a letter
written with constraint, and my mind is at present very full of
this sad subject, though I scarce know any one to whom I would
venture to say so much. I hear no good news of Lady Anne, though
Lord Montagu writes cautiously. The weather is now turning
milder, and may, I hope, be favorable to her complaint. After my
own family, my thought most frequently turns to these orphans,
whose parents I loved and respected so much.--I am always, dear
Lady Louisa, your very respectful and obliged

WALTER SCOTT.

[Footnote 71: [Lady Louisa's letter was written January 16, 1820, and can be found in _Familiar Letters_, vol. ii. p. 71. In it she says:--

"Everybody in this house has been reading an odd new kind of a book called _Ivanhoe_, and nobody, as far as I have observed, has willingly laid it down again till finished. By this, I conclude that its success will be fully equal to that of its predecessors, notwithstanding it has quite abandoned their ground and ploughed up a field hitherto untouched. The interest of it, indeed, is most powerful; few things in prose or verse seize upon one's mind so strongly, or are read with such breathless eagerness, as the storming of the castle, related by Rebecca, and her trial at Templestowe. Few characters ever were so forcibly painted as hers: the Jew, too, the Templar, the courtly knight De Bracy, the wavering, inconstant wickedness of John, are all worthy of Shakespeare. I must not omit paying my tribute to Cedric, that worthy forefather of the genuine English country gentleman.... And according to what has been alleged against the author in some other instances, the hero and the heroine are the people one cares least about. But provided one does but care enough about somebody, it is all one to me; and I think the cavil is like that against Milton for making the Devil his hero."]]

[Footnote 72: _Lines on the Death of Mr. Robert Levett._]

There is in the library at Abbotsford a fine copy of Baskerville's folio Bible, two volumes, printed at Cambridge in 1763; and there appears on the blank leaf, in the trembling handwriting of Scott's mother, this inscription: "_To my dear son, Walter Scott, from his affectionate mother, Anne Rutherford,--January 1st, 1819._" Under these words her son has written as follows: "This Bible was the gift of my grandfather Dr. John Rutherford, to my mother, and presented by her to me; being, alas, the last gift which I was to receive from that excellent parent, and, as I verily believe, the thing which she most loved in the world,--not only in humble veneration of the sacred contents, but as the dearest pledge of her father's affection to her. As such she gave it to me; and as such I bequeath it to those who may represent me--charging them carefully to preserve the same, in memory of those to whom it has belonged. 1820."

* * * * *

If literary success could have either filled Scott's head or hardened his heart, we should have no such letters as those of December, 1819. Ivanhoe was received throughout England with a more clamorous delight than any of the Scotch novels had been. The volumes (three in number) were now, for the first time, of the post 8vo form, with a finer paper than hitherto, the press-work much more elegant, and the price accordingly raised from eight shillings the volume to ten; yet the copies sold in this original shape were twelve thousand.

I ought to have mentioned sooner, that the original intention was to bring out Ivanhoe as the production of a new hand, and that, to assist this impression, the work was printed in a size and manner unlike the preceding ones; but Constable, when the day of publication approached, remonstrated against this experiment, and it was accordingly abandoned.

The reader has already been told that Scott dictated the greater part of this romance. The portion of the MS. which is his own, appears, however, not only as well and firmly executed as that of any of the Tales of my Landlord, but distinguished by having still fewer erasures and interlineations, and also by being in a smaller hand. The fragment is beautiful to look at--many pages together without one alteration.[73] It is, I suppose, superfluous to add, that in no instance did Scott rewrite his prose before sending it to the press. Whatever may have been the case with his poetry, the world uniformly received the _prima cura_ of the novelist.

[Footnote 73: Three of these MS. pages were a fair day's work in the author's estimation--equal to fifteen or sixteen of the original impression.]

As a work of art, Ivanhoe is perhaps the first of all Scott's efforts, whether in prose or in verse; nor have the strength and splendor of his imagination been displayed to higher advantage than in some of the scenes of this romance. But I believe that no reader who is capable of thoroughly comprehending the author's Scotch character and Scotch dialogue will ever place even Ivanhoe, as a work of genius, on the same level with Waverley, Guy Mannering, or The Heart of Mid-Lothian.

There is, to me, something so remarkably characteristic of Scott's mind and manner in a particular passage of the Introduction, which he penned ten years afterwards for this work, that I must be pardoned for extracting it here. He says: "The character of the fair Jewess found so much favor in the eyes of some fair readers, that the writer was censured, because, when arranging the fates of the characters of the drama, he had not assigned the hand of Wilfred to Rebecca, rather than the less interesting Rowena. But, not to mention that the prejudices of the age rendered such a union almost impossible, the author may, in passing, observe that he thinks a character of a highly virtuous and lofty stamp is degraded rather than exalted by an attempt to reward virtue with temporal prosperity. Such is not the recompense which Providence has deemed worthy of suffering merit; and it is a dangerous and fatal doctrine to teach young persons, the most common readers of romance, that rectitude of conduct and of principle are either naturally allied with, or adequately rewarded by, the gratification of our passions, or attainment of our wishes. In a word, if a virtuous and self-denied character is dismissed with temporal wealth, greatness, rank, or the indulgence of such a rashly formed or ill-assorted passion as that of Rebecca for Ivanhoe, the reader will be apt to say, verily Virtue has had its reward. But a glance on the great picture of life will show that the duties of self-denial, and the sacrifice of passion to principle, are seldom thus remunerated; and that the internal consciousness of their high-minded discharge of duty produces on their own reflections a more adequate recompense, in the form of that peace which the world cannot give or take away."

The introduction of the charming Jewess and her father originated, I find, in a conversation that Scott held with his friend Skene during the severest season of his bodily sufferings in the early part of this year. "Mr. Skene," says that gentleman's wife, "sitting by his bedside, and trying to amuse him as well as he could in the intervals of pain, happened to get on the subject of the Jews, as he had observed them when he spent some time in Germany in his youth. Their situation had naturally made a strong impression; for in those days they retained their own dress and manners entire, and were treated with considerable austerity by their Christian neighbors, being still locked up at night in their own quarter by great gates; and Mr. Skene, partly in seriousness, but partly from the mere wish to turn his mind at the moment upon something that might occupy and divert it, suggested that a group of Jews would be an interesting feature if he could contrive to bring them into his next novel." Upon the appearance of Ivanhoe, he reminded Mr. Skene of this conversation, and said, "You will find this book owes not a little to your German reminiscences." Mrs. Skene adds: "Dining with us one day, not long before Ivanhoe was begun, something that was mentioned led him to describe the sudden death of an advocate of his acquaintance, a Mr. Elphinstone, which occurred in the _Outer-house_ soon after he was called to the Bar. It was, he said, no wonder that it had left a vivid impression on his mind, for it was the first sudden death he ever witnessed; and he now related it so as to make us all feel as if we had the scene passing before our eyes. In the death of the Templar in Ivanhoe, I recognized the very picture--I believe I may safely say the very words."[74]

[Footnote 74: See _Ivanhoe_, end of chap. xliv.]

By the way, before Ivanhoe made its appearance, I had myself been formally admitted to the author's secret; but had he favored me with no such confidence, it would have been impossible for me to doubt that I had been present some months before at the conversation which suggested, and indeed supplied all the materials of, one of its most amusing chapters. I allude to that in which our Saxon terms for animals in the field, and our Norman equivalents for them as they appear on the table, and so on, are explained and commented on. All this Scott owed to the after-dinner talk one day in Castle Street of his old friend Mr. William Clerk,--who, among other elegant pursuits, has cultivated the science of philology very deeply.[75]

[Footnote 75: [It is said that the character of Rebecca was suggested to Scott by Washington Irving's description of Rebecca Gratz of Philadelphia, a lady belonging to a Jewish family of high position in that city, with whom Irving was intimate. Miss Gratz had been a friend of his betrothed, Matilda Hoffman, and in her youth had loved devotedly a man in every way worthy of her, but the difference of religion made their union impossible. During a conversation with Scott, Irving spoke with much feeling of Rebecca Gratz, of her extraordinary beauty, of her adherence to her faith under most trying circumstances, of her nobility, distinction, and loveliness of character, and her untiring zeal in works of charity, greatly interesting his host, as the guest recalled when _Ivanhoe_ appeared.

Rebecca Gratz died in 1869 in her eighty-ninth year. A sketch of her, with a portrait after a miniature by Malbone, was published in the _Century Magazine_ for September, 1882.]]

I cannot conclude this chapter without observing that the publication of Ivanhoe marks the most brilliant epoch in Scott's history as the literary favorite of his contemporaries. With the novel which he next put forth, the immediate sale of these works began gradually to decline; and though, even when that had reached its lowest declension, it was still far above the most ambitious dreams of any other novelist, yet the publishers were afraid the announcement of anything like a falling-off might cast a damp over the spirits of the author. He was allowed to remain, for several years, under the impression that whatever novel he threw off commanded at once the old triumphant sale of ten or twelve thousand, and was afterwards, when included in the collective edition, to be circulated in that shape also as widely as Waverley or Ivanhoe. In my opinion, it would have been very unwise in the booksellers to give Scott any unfavorable tidings upon such subjects after the commencement of the malady which proved fatal to him,--for that from the first shook his mind; but I think they took a false measure of the man when they hesitated to tell him exactly how the matter stood, throughout 1820 and the three or four following years, when his intellect was as vigorous as it ever had been, and his heart as courageous; and I regret their scruples (among other reasons), because the years now mentioned were the most costly ones in his life; and for every twelvemonth in which any man allows himself, or is encouraged by others, to proceed in a course of unwise expenditure, it becomes proportionably more difficult for him to pull up when the mistake is at length detected or recognized.