Part 3

The large sums received by Sir Walter for the copyright of his earlier works had enabled him to expend nearly one hundred thousand pounds upon Abbotsford, so as to make it his "proper mansion, house, and home, the theatre of his hospitality, the seat of self-fruition, the comfortablest part of his own life, the noblest of his son's inheritance, a kind of private princedom, and, according to the degree of the master, decently and delightfully adorned."[12] Here Sir Walter lived in dignified enjoyment of his well-earned fortune, during the summer and autumn, and was visited by distinguished persons from nearly all parts of the world. He unostentatiously opened his treasury of relics to all visitors, and his affability spread far and wide. He usually devoted three hours in the morning, from six or seven o'clock, to composition, his customary quota being a sheet daily. He passed the remainder of the day in the pleasurable occupations of a country life--as in superintending the improvements of the mansion, and the planting and disposal of the grounds of Abbotsford; or, as Walpole said of John Evelyn, "unfolding the perfection of the works of the Creator, and assisting the imperfection of the minute works of the creature;" so as to render Abbotsford as Evelyn describes his own dear Wotton, "large and ancient (for there is an air of assumed antiquity in Abbotsford), suitable to those hospitable times, and so sweetly environed with those delicious streams and venerable woods, as in the judgment of strangers as well as Englishmen, it may be compared to one of the most pleasant seats in the nation, most tempting to a great person and a wanton purse, to render it conspicuous: it has rising grounds, meadows, woods, and water in abundance."[13]

[12] Sir Henry Wootton's _Elements of Architecture_.

[13] Evelyn's _Diary_.

In 1820, the poet of _Marmion_ was created a baronet, by George IV., but a few weeks after his accession--it being the first baronetcy conferred by the King, and standing alone in the _Gazette_ which announced the honour. In 1822, Sir Walter distinguished himself in the loyal reception of the King, on his visit to Scotland; and soon afterwards the Baronet was appointed a deputy-lieutenant for the county of Roxburgh.

EMBARRASSMENTS.

Thus stood the "pure contents" of Abbotsford, when, in January, 1826, the failure of Messrs. Constable threw a gloom over Sir Walter's affairs. The eminent publisher had been one of his earliest friends. "Archie Constable," he once said, "was a good friend to me long ago, and I will never see him at a loss." The sums given by Mr. Constable for the copyright of Sir Walter's novels were nominally immense; but they were chiefly paid in bills, which were renewed as the necessities of the publisher increased, till, on his failure, Sir Walter found himself responsible for various debts, amounting to 102,000_l_. About this time Lady Scott died, and her loss was an additional affliction to him. Various modes of settlement were proposed to Sir Walter for the liquidation of these heavy debts; but, "like the elder Osbaldistone of his own immortal pages, considering commercial honour as dear as any other honour," he would only consent to payment _in full_; and, in the short space of six years, he paid off 60,000_l._ "by his genius alone; but he crushed his spirit in the gigantic struggle, or, in plain words, sacrificed himself in the attempt to repair his broken fortunes." He sold his house and furniture in Edinburgh, and, says Chambers, "retreated into a humble lodging in a second-rate street (St. David-street, where David Hume had formerly lived.)" He reduced his establishment at Abbotsford, and retired, as far as his official duties would permit, from public life, accompanied only by his younger daughter. In this domestic retreat, at fifty-five years of age, he commenced

THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE

--visiting France, in 1826, for some information requisite to the work. In the following summer the _Life_ appeared in nine volumes, an extent much beyond the original project. As might be expected, from the aristocratical turn of Sir Walter's political tenets, the opinions on this work were more various than on any other of his productions: it is, to say the best, the most faulty and unequal of them all; and, considering how clearly this has been shown, it is somewhat surprising to hear so clever a critic as Mr. Cunningham pronounce _The Life of Napoleon_ as "one of the noblest monuments of Scott's genius." We pass from these considerations to the excellence of the purpose to which the proceeds (12,000_l._) of this work were applied--namely, to the payment of 6_s._ 8_d._ in the pound, as the first dividend of the debts of the author.

In parting with the _Napoleon_, we might notice the conflicting opinions of the French critics on its merits; but, as that task would occupy too much space we content ourselves with the following passage from a journal published a few days subsequent to the melancholy intelligence of the death of Sir Walter Scott being received in Paris. The criticism is in every sense plain-spoken:--

"If Sir Walter Scott's politics did not square with the natural state of things--if upon this subject he still remained the victim of early prejudices, and, perhaps, of the predilections of a poetical mind, yet he was fortunate enough to promote, by his writings, the real improvement of the people. France has reason to reproach him severely for the unaccountable statements in his "Paul's Letters to his Kinsfolk," and in the "History of Bonaparte." But those errors were imputable to carelessness much more than to malice. A prose writer, a poet, a novelist--he yielded, during his long and laborious career, to the impulse of a fancy, rich, copious, and entirely independent of present circumstances, aloof from the agitations of the day, delighting in the memory of the past, and drawing from the surviving relics of ancient times the traditionary tale, to revive and embellish it. He was one of those geniuses in romance who may be said to have been impartial and disinterested, for he gave a picture of ordinary life exactly as it was. He painted man in all the varieties produced in his nature by passion and the force of circumstances, and avoided mixing up with these portraits what was merely ideal. Persons gifted with this power of forgetting themselves, as it were, and of assuming in succession an infinite series of varied characters, who live, speak, and act before us in a thousand ways that affect or delight us, such men are often susceptible of feelings the most ardent on their own account, although they may not directly express as much. It is difficult to believe that Shakspeare and Moliere, the noblest types of this class of exalted minds, did not contemplate life with feelings of deep and, perhaps, melancholy emotion. It was not so, however, with Scott, who certainly belonged not to their kindred, possessing neither the vigour of combination, nor the style which distinguished those men. Of great natural benevolence, gentle and kind, ardent in the pursuit of various knowledge, accommodating himself to the manners and sentiments of his day, good-humoured, and favoured by happy conjunctures of circumstances, Scott came forth under the most brilliant auspices, accomplishing his best and most durable works almost without an effort, and without impressing on these productions any sort of character which would connect them with the personal character of the author. If he be represented, indeed, in any part of his writings, it is in such characters as that of Morton (one of the Puritans), a sort of ambiguous, undetermined, unoffending, good sort of person."

"WAVERLEY NOVELS."

Up to this period, the secret of the authorship of the novels was not generally known, though more extensively so than was at the time imagined. The public had made up their minds to the fact; but the identity was _not proven_. The adjustment of Messrs. Constable's affairs, however, rendered it impossible longer to conceal the authorship, which was revealed by Sir Walter, at the anniversary dinner of the Edinburgh Theatrical Fund, in February, 1827. Thus he acknowledged before three hundred gentlemen "a secret which, considering that it was communicated to more than twenty people, had been remarkably well kept." His avowal was as follows:--

"He had now to say, however, that the merits of these works, if they had any, and their faults, were entirely imputable to himself." [Here the audience broke into an absolute shout of surprise and delight.] "He was afraid to think on what he had done. 'Look on't again I dare not.' He had thus far unbosomed himself, and he knew that it would be reported to the public. He meant, then, seriously to state, that when he said he was the author, he was the total and undivided author. With the exception of quotations, there was not a single word written that was not derived from himself, or suggested in the course of his reading. The wand was now broken, and the rod buried. His audience would allow him further to say, with Prospero, 'Your breath has filled my sails.'"

The copyright of the novels was soon afterwards sold for 8,400_l._, and they have since been republished, with illustrations, and notes and introductions by the author, in forty-one volumes, monthly; the last volume appearing within a few days of the author's death.

FATAL ILLNESS.

Towards the close of 1830, Sir Walter retired from his office, retaining a portion of his salary, but declining a pension which had been offered to him by the present administration. He was now in his 60th year; his health broke apace; it was evident that the task of writing to pay off debts, which were not of his own contracting, was alike too severe for his mental and physical powers; and in the succeeding winter they became gradually paralyzed. He somewhat rallied in the spring, and, unfortunately for his health, embroiled himself in the angry politics of the day, at a county meeting at Jedburgh, upon the Reform question. He was then very feeble, but spoke with such vehemence as to draw upon him the hisses of some of his auditors: this ebullition of feeling is said to have much affected him; and he is stated (we know not how truly) to have been observed on his way home in tears.

In the autumn of last year Sir Walter, at the recommendation of his physicians, resolved to winter in the more congenial climate of Italy; though it required the most earnest entreaties of his friends to induce him to consent to the change, so strong was his love of country and apprehension of dying in a foreign land. He accordingly set sail in H.M.S. the Barham for Malta, on the 27th of October; previous to which he appended to the Fourth and Last Series of _Tales of my Landlord_ the following affecting, and, as we lately observed, almost prophetic, passage:

"The gentle reader is acquainted that these are, in all probability, the last tales which it will be the lot of the author to submit to the public. He is now on the eve of visiting foreign parts; a ship of war is commissioned by its royal master, to carry the Author of Waverley to climates in which he may readily obtain such a restoration of health as may serve him to spin his thread to an end in his own country. Had he continued to prosecute his usual literary labours, it seems indeed probable that, at the term of years he has already attained, the bowl, to use the pathetic language of Scripture, would have been broken at the fountain; and little can one, who has enjoyed on the whole, an uncommon share of the most inestimable of worldly blessings, be entitled to complain, that life, advancing to its period, should be attended with its usual proportion of shadows and storms. They have affected him, at least, in no more painful manner, than is inseparable from the discharge of this part of the debt of humanity. Of those whose relations to him in the ranks of life, might have insured their sympathy under indisposition, many are now no more; and those who may yet follow in his wake, are entitled to expect, in bearing inevitable evils, an example of firmness and patience, more especially on the part of one who has enjoyed no small good fortune during the course of his pilgrimage.

"The public have claims on his gratitude, for which the Author of Waverley has no adequate means of expression; but he may be permitted to hope that the powers of his mind, such as they are, may not have a different date from his body; and that he may again meet his patronizing friends, if not exactly in his old fashion of literature, at least in some branch which may not call forth the remark, that--

"Superfluous lags the veteran on the stage."

Sir Walter resided at Malta for a short time; thence he proceeded to Naples, where he was received with almost pageant honours. In the spring he visited Rome; but "the world's chief ornament" had few charms for one bereft of all hope of healthful recovery. His strength was waning fast, and he set out to return with more than prudent speed to his native country. He travelled seventeen hours for six successive days, and, in descending the Rhine, had a second attack of paralysis which would have carried him off but for the timely presence of mind of his servant, who immediately bled him. The illustrious Goëthe had looked forward with great pleasure to the meeting with Sir Walter when he returned through Germany, but the destroyer had fell also on him. On his arrival in London, Sir Walter was conveyed to the St. James's Hotel, Jermyn-street, and attended by Sir Henry Halford and Dr. Holland, with Mr. and Mrs. Lockhart. He lay some weeks in a hopeless condition, and when the flame of life was just flickering out, he entreated to be conveyed to his own home. The journey was a hazardous one, but, as the dying wish of the poet, was tried and effected: on July 9th, he was conveyed to Edinburgh, whence he was removed to his fondly-cherished home on the 11th.

DEATH.

Sir Walter's return to Abbotsford was an afflicting scene. On approaching the mansion he could scarcely be kept from attempting to raise himself in his carriage, such was his eagerness to catch a glimpse of his home: he murmured, on his arrival, "that _now_ he knew he was at Abbotsford." He lingered for two months, during which he recognised and spoke kindly to friends, and was even pleased in listening to passages read from the poems of Crabbe and Wordsworth: till, on September 21st, 1832, he died, apparently free from pain, and surrounded by his family.

FUNERAL.

His remains were placed in a coffin of lead, enclosed in another coffin covered with black cloth, and gilt ornaments. The inscription plate bore the words, "SIR WALTER SCOTT, of ABBOTSFORD, Bart. AN. AETAT. 62." The funeral took place at Dryburgh, amidst the ruins of the venerable abbey, at night-fall, on Sept. 25th; the body being borne from the hearse to the grave by his domestics, and followed by upwards of 300 mourners. A Correspondent has furnished us with the subjoined note of the funeral.

It has been remarked that at the grave, the burial service of the Episcopal Church was read by a clergyman of the Church of England (the Rev. John Williams, of Baliol College, Oxford, Rector of the Edinburgh Academy, and Vicar of Lampeter), although Sir Walter through life adhered to the persuasion of the Presbyterian or Church of Scotland. In Scotland no prayers are offered over the dead; when the mourners assemble in the house of the deceased, refreshments are handed round, previous to which a blessing is implored, (as at meals,) and _then_ only the minister alludes to the bereavement the family have suffered, and strength and grace are implored to sustain them under it. This gratuitous custom was adhered to, and previous to the funeral _cortège_ setting out from Abbotsford, the Rev. Principal Baird, offered up a prayer. But although a Presbyterian in practice, Sir Walter in several parts of his works expressed his dissent from several of the rigid canons of that Church, and an example occurs in that graphic scene in _the Antiquary_, the funeral group of _Steenie Mucklebacket_, where "the creak of the screw nails announced that the lid of the last mansion of mortality was in the act of being secured above its tenant. The last act which separates us for ever from the mortal relicks of the person we assemble to mourn has usually its effect upon the most indifferent, selfish, and hard-hearted:" and he adds in condemnation, "With a spirit of contradiction which we may be pardoned for esteeming narrow-minded, the fathers of the Scottish Kirk rejected even on this most solemn occasion the form of an address to the Divinity, lest they should be thought to give countenance to the ritual of Rome or of England." And he seizes the opportunity to applaud the liberal judgment of the present Scottish clergymen who avail themselves of the advantage of offering a prayer, suitable to make an impression on the living.

The scenery around his burial-place is fraught with melancholy associations--enshrined as have been its beauties by him that now sought a bourn amidst them. It had been the land of his poetical pilgrimage: through its "bosomed vales" and alongside its "valley streams" his genius had journeyed with untiring energy, then to spread abroad its stores for the gratification of hundreds of thousands, who may about his grave

Make dust their paper, and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.

--Only let us glance at a few of the storied sites that are to be seen around this hallowed spot: at Melrose, with antique pillar and ruins grey--

Was ever scene so sad and fair.

Eildon Hill, where Sir Walter said he could stand and point out forty-three places famous in war and verse;[14] and above all, the tower of Smailholm Castle, where once "his careless childhood strayed,"--the _Alpha_ of his poetic fame.

[14] Cunningham.

FAMILY.

Sir Walter Scott had two sons and two daughters. The elder daughter, Sophia Charlotte, was married, April 28, 1820, to Mr. John Gibson Lockhart, advocate, editor of the _Quarterly Review_. The eldest son, Walter, who has succeeded to the baronetcy, is now in his thirty-second year, and Major of the 15th or King's Hussars. In 1825, he married Jane, daughter and sole heiress of John Jobson, Esq., an opulent Scottish merchant, with which lady, report affirmed at the time, Major Scott received a fortune of 60,000_l_. The estate of Abbotsford was also settled by Sir Walter upon the young pair; but, as the owner is stated not to have been at this time in a state of solvency, though he thought himself so, and his estate now proves to be encumbered with heavy debts, the deed of entail, of course, becomes invalid, and the paternal property must be sold by the creditors of the estate. There is, however, ample reason to hope that such a step will be averted, by the gratitude of the public, and that Abbotsford will be preserved for the family. The younger son, Charles, who is, we believe, a junior clerk in the Foreign Office, is unmarried; as is the younger daughter, Anne. The death of Lady Scott occurred May 15, 1826. Mrs. Lockhart's children are as yet the only descendants of Sir Walter in the second generation.

PORTRAITS.

The reader may be somewhat familiar with the personal appearance of Sir Walter Scott, through the several portraits which have from time to time been painted and engraved of the illustrious Baronet. His height is stated at upwards of six feet; and his frame was strongly knit, and compactly built. His right leg was shrunk from his boyhood, and required support by a staff. Mr. Cunningham describes the personal habits of Sir Walter with his usual characteristic force: "his arms were strong and sinewy; his looks stately and commanding; and his face, as he related a heroic story, flushed up as a crystal cup when one fills it with wine. His eyes were deep seated under his somewhat shaggy brow;[15] their colour was a bluish grey--they laughed more than his lips did at a humorous story. His tower-like head and thin, white hair marked him out among a thousand, while any one might swear to his voice again who heard it once, for it had a touch of the lisp and the burr; yet, as the minstrel said, of Douglas, 'it became him wonder well,' and gave great softness to a sorrowful story: indeed, I imagined that he kept the burr part of the tone for matters of a facetious or humorous kind, and brought out the lisp part in those of tenderness or woe. When I add, that in a meeting of a hundred men, his hat was sure to be the least, and would fit no one's head but his own, I have said all that I have to say about his appearance."[16]

[15] Mr. Chambers describes Sir Walter's eyebrows as so shaggy and prominent, that, when he was reading or writing at a table, they _completely_ shrouded the eyes beneath; and the Ettrick Shepherd speaks of Sir Walter's shaggy eyebrows dipping deep over his eyes.

[16] One of the amusements of Sir Walter's retirement was to walk out frequently among his plantations at Abbotsford, with a small hatchet and hand-saw, with which he lopped off superfluous boughs, or removed an entire tree when it was marring the growth of others. The author of _Anastasius_ delighted in a similar pursuit; he would stroll for hours through the winding walks of the Deepdene plantation, and with a small hatchet or shears lop off the luxuriant twigs or branches that might spoil the trim neatness of the path.

Among the accredited portraits of Sir Walter Scott is that painted by the late Sir Henry Raeburn, which has been engraved in a handsome style; another portrait, by Mr. Leslie, was engraved in the _Souvenir_, a year or two since, and was styled in the Noctes of _Blackwood's Magazine_, "the vera man himsel;" but the latest, and perhaps the best, was painted not many month's since, by Mr. Watson Gordon, and admirably engraved by Horsburgh, of Edinburgh, for the revised edition of the Novels. A whole-length portrait of the Poet in his Study, at Abbotsford, was painted a few years since, in masterly style, by Allan, and engraved by Goodall for the _Anniversary_, edited by Mr. Cunningham, who informs us that "a painting is in progress from the same hand, showing Sir Walter as he lately appeared--lying on a couch in his principal room: all the windows are closed save one, admitting a strong central light, and showing all that the room contains--in deep shadow, or in strong sunshine." A splendid portrait of the Poet was painted by Sir Thomas Lawrence for the late King, and exhibited at the Royal Academy a few years since; an engraving of which has been announced by Messrs. Moon, Boys, and Graves, his present Majesty having graciously granted the loan of the picture for this purpose.[17]

[17] A portrait of Sir Walter was painted by Knight for the late Mr. Terry, in the year 1825: it is described in the _Literary Gazette_ as, "particularly excellent," and was unfortunately destroyed a short time since by a fire at the house of Mr. Harding, Finchley, in whose possession it was. This portrait, it is feared, has not been engraved.--See _Literary Gazette_, No. 819.

UNPUBLISHED WORKS.