by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XXXVII
But this poor farce has neither truth nor art To please the fancy or to touch the heart Dark but not awful dismal but yet mean, With anxious bustle moves the cumbrous scene, Presents no objects tender or profound, But spreads its cold unmeaning gloom around
Parish Register
'Your majesty,' said Mannering, laughing, 'has solemnised yourabdication by an act of mercy and charity. That fellow will scarcethink of going to law.'
'O, you are quite wrong,' said the experienced lawyer. 'The onlydifference is, I have lost my client and my fee. He'll never rest tillhe finds somebody to encourage him to commit the folly he haspredetermined. No! no! I have only shown you another weakness of mycharacter: I always speak truth of a Saturday night.'
'And sometimes through the week, I should think,' said Mannering,continuing the same tone.
'Why, yes; as far as my vocation will permit. I am, as Hamlet says,indifferent honest, when my clients and their solicitors do not make methe medium of conveying their double-distilled lies to the bench. Butoportet vivere! it is a sad thing. And now to our business. I am gladmy old friend Mac-Morlan has sent you to me; he is an active, honest,and intelligent man, long sheriff-substitute of the county of--underme, and still holds the office. He knows I have a regard for thatunfortunate family of Ellangowan, and for poor Lucy. I have not seenher since she was twelve years old, and she was then a sweet prettygirl, under the management of a very silly father. But my interest inher is of an early date. I was called upon, Mr. Mannering, being thensheriff of that county, to investigate the particulars of a murderwhich had been committed near Ellangowan the day on which this poorchild was born; and which, by a strange combination that I wasunhappily not able to trace, involved the death or abstraction of heronly brother, a boy of about five years old. No, Colonel, I shall neverforget the misery of the house of Ellangowan that morning! the fatherhalf-distracted--the mother dead in premature travail--the helplessinfant, with scarce any one to attend it, coming wawling and cryinginto this miserable world at such a moment of unutterable misery. Welawyers are not of iron, sir, or of brass, any more than you soldiersare of steel. We are conversant with the crimes and distresses of civilsociety, as you are with those that occur in a state of war, and to doour duty in either case a little apathy is perhaps necessary. But thedevil take a soldier whose heart can be as hard as his sword, and hisdam catch the lawyer who bronzes his bosom instead of his forehead! Butcome, I am losing my Saturday at e'en. Will you have the kindness totrust me with these papers which relate to Miss Bertram's business? andstay--to-morrow you'll take a bachelor's dinner with an old lawyer,--Iinsist upon it--at three precisely, and come an hour sooner. The oldlady is to be buried on Monday; it is the orphan's cause, and we'llborrow an hour from the Sunday to talk over this business, although Ifear nothing can be done if she has altered her settlement, unlessperhaps it occurs within the sixty days, and then, if Miss Bertram canshow that she possesses the character of heir-at-law, why--But, hark!my lieges are impatient of their interregnum. I do not invite you torejoin us, Colonel; it would be a trespass on your complaisance, unlessyou had begun the day with us, and gradually glided on from wisdom tomirth, and from mirth to-to-to--extravagance. Good-night. Harry, gohome with Mr. Mannering to his lodging. Colonel, I expect you at alittle past two to-morrow.'
The Colonel returned to his inn, equally surprised at the childishfrolics in which he had found his learned counsellor engaged, at thecandour and sound sense which he had in a moment summoned up to meetthe exigencies of his profession, and at the tone of feeling which hedisplayed when he spoke of the friendless orphan.
In the morning, while the Colonel and his most quiet and silent of allretainers, Dominie Sampson, were finishing the breakfast which Barneshad made and poured out, after the Dominie had scalded himself in theattempt, Mr. Pleydell was suddenly ushered in. A nicely dressedbob-wig, upon every hair of which a zealous and careful barber hadbestowed its proper allowance of powder; a well-brushed black suit,with very clean shoes and gold buckles and stock-buckle; a mannerrather reserved and formal than intrusive, but withal showing only theformality of manner, by no means that of awkwardness; a countenance,the expressive and somewhat comic features of which were in completerepose--all showed a being perfectly different from the choice spiritof the evening before. A glance of shrewd and piercing fire in his eyewas the only marked expression which recalled the man of 'Saturday ate'en.'
'I am come,' said he, with a very polite address, 'to use my regalauthority in your behalf in spirituals as well as temporals; can Iaccompany you to the Presbyterian kirk, or Episcopal meeting-house?Tros Tyriusve, a lawyer, you know, is of both religions, or rather Ishould say of both forms;--or can I assist in passing the fore-noonotherwise? You'll excuse my old-fashioned importunity, I was born in atime when a Scotchman was thought inhospitable if he left a guest alonea moment, except when he slept; but I trust you will tell me at once ifI intrude.'
'Not at all, my dear sir,' answered Colonel Mannering. 'I am delightedto put myself under your pilotage. I should wish much to hear some ofyour Scottish preachers whose talents have done such honour to yourcountry--your Blair, your Robertson, or your Henry; and I embrace yourkind offer with all my heart. Only,' drawing the lawyer a little aside,and turning his eye towards Sampson, 'my worthy friend there in thereverie is a little helpless and abstracted, and my servant, Barnes,who is his pilot in ordinary, cannot well assist him here, especiallyas he has expressed his determination of going to some of your darkerand more remote places of worship.'
The lawyer's eye glanced at Dominie Sampson. 'A curiosity worthpreserving; and I'll find you a fit custodier. Here you, sir (to thewaiter), go to Luckie Finlayson's in the Cowgate for Miles Macfin thecadie, he'll be there about this time, and tell him I wish to speak tohim.'
The person wanted soon arrived. 'I will commit your friend to thisman's charge,' said Pleydell; 'he'll attend him, or conduct him,wherever he chooses to go, with a happy indifference as to kirk ormarket, meeting or court of justice, or any other place whatever; andbring him safe home at whatever hour you appoint; so that Mr. Barnesthere may be left to the freedom of his own will.'
This was easily arranged, and the Colonel committed the Dominie to thecharge of this man while they should remain in Edinburgh.
'And now, sir, if you please, we shall go to the Grey-friars church, tohear our historian of Scotland, of the Continent, and of America.'
They were disappointed: he did not preach that morning. 'Never mind,'said the Counsellor, 'have a moment's patience and we shall do verywell.'
The colleague of Dr. Robertson ascended the pulpit. [Footnote: This wasthe celebrated Doctor Erskine, a distinguished clergyman, and a mostexcellent man.] His external appearance was not prepossessing. Aremarkably fair complexion, strangely contrasted with a black wigwithout a grain of powder; a narrow chest and a stooping posture; handswhich, placed like props on either side of the pulpit, seemed necessaryrather to support the person than to assist the gesticulation of thepreacher; no gown, not even that of Geneva, a tumbled band, and agesture which seemed scarce voluntary, were the first circumstanceswhich struck a stranger. 'The preacher seems a very ungainly person,'whispered Mannering to his new friend.
'Never fear, he's the son of an excellent Scottish lawyer; [Footnote:The father of Doctor Erskine was an eminent lawyer, and his Institutesof the Law of Scotland are to this day the text-book of students ofthat science.] he'll show blood, I'll warrant him.'
The learned Counsellor predicted truly. A lecture was delivered,fraught with new, striking, and entertaining views of Scripturehistory, a sermon in which the Calvinism of the Kirk of Scotland wasably supported, yet made the basis of a sound system of practicalmorals, which should neither shelter the sinner under the cloak ofspeculative faith or of peculiarity of opinion, nor leave him loose tothe waves of unbelief and schism. Something there was of an antiquatedturn of argument and metaphor, but it only served to giv
e zest andpeculiarity to the style of elocution. The sermon was not read: a scrapof paper containing the heads of the discourse was occasionallyreferred to, and the enunciation, which at first seemed imperfect andembarrassed, became, as the preacher warmed in his progress, animatedand distinct; and although the discourse could not be quoted as acorrect specimen of pulpit eloquence, yet Mannering had seldom heard somuch learning, metaphysical acuteness, and energy of argument broughtinto the service of Christianity.
'Such,' he said, going out of the church, 'must have been the preachersto whose unfearing minds, and acute though sometimes rudely exercisedtalents, we owe the Reformation.'
'And yet that reverend gentleman,' said Pleydell, 'whom I love for hisfather's sake and his own, has nothing of the sour or pharisaical pridewhich has been imputed to some of the early fathers of the CalvinisticKirk of Scotland. His colleague and he differ, and head differentparties in the kirk, about particular points of church discipline; butwithout for a moment losing personal regard or respect for each other,or suffering malignity to interfere in an opposition steady, constant,and apparently conscientious on both sides.'
'And you, Mr. Pleydell, what do you think of their points ofdifference?'
'Why, I hope, Colonel, a plain man may go to heaven without thinkingabout them at all; besides, inter nos, I am a member of the sufferingand Episcopal Church of Scotland--the shadow of a shade now, andfortunately so; but I love to pray where my fathers prayed before me,without thinking worse of the Presbyterian forms because they do notaffect me with the same associations.' And with this remark they parteduntil dinner-time.
From the awkward access to the lawyer's mansion, Mannering was inducedto form very moderate expectations of the entertainment which he was toreceive. The approach looked even more dismal by daylight than on thepreceding evening. The houses on each side of the lane were so closethat the neighbours might have shaken hands with each other from thedifferent sides, and occasionally the space between was traversed bywooden galleries, and thus entirely closed up. The stair, thescale-stair, was not well cleaned; and on entering the house Manneringwas struck with the narrowness and meanness of the wainscotted passage.But the library, into which he was shown by an elderly,respectable-looking man-servant, was a complete contrast to theseunpromising appearances. It was a well-proportioned room, hung with aportrait or two of Scottish characters of eminence, by Jamieson, theCaledonian Vandyke, and surrounded with books, the best editions of thebest authors, and in particular an admirable collection of classics.
'These,' said Pleydell, 'are my tools of trade. A lawyer withouthistory or literature is a mechanic, a mere working mason; if hepossesses some knowledge of these, he may venture to call himself anarchitect.'
But Mannering was chiefly delighted with the view from the windows,which commanded that incomparable prospect of the ground betweenEdinburgh and the sea--the Firth of Forth, with its islands, theembayment which is terminated by the Law of North Berwick, and thevaried shores of Fife to the northward, indenting with a hilly outlinethe clear blue horizon.
When Mr. Pleydell had sufficiently enjoyed the surprise of his guest,he called his attention to Miss Bertram's affairs. 'I was in hopes,' hesaid, 'though but faint, to have discovered some means of ascertainingher indefeasible right to this property of Singleside; but myresearches have been in vain. The old lady was certainly absolute fiar,and might dispose of it in full right of property. All that we have tohope is, that the devil may not have tempted her to alter this veryproper settlement. You must attend the old girl's funeral to-morrow, towhich you will receive an invitation, for I have acquainted her agentwith your being here on Miss Bertram's part; and I will meet youafterwards at the house she inhabited, and be present to see fair playat the opening of the settlement. The old cat had a little girl, theorphan of some relation, who lived with her as a kind of slavishcompanion. I hope she has had the conscience to make her independent,in consideration of the peine forte et dure to which she subjected herduring her lifetime.'
Three gentlemen now appeared, and were introduced to the stranger. Theywere men of good sense, gaiety, and general information, so that theday passed very pleasantly over; and Colonel Mannering assisted, abouteight o'clock at night, in discussing the landlord's bottle, which was,of course, a magnum. Upon his return to the inn he found a cardinviting him to the funeral of Miss Margaret Bertram, late ofSingleside, which was to proceed from her own house to the place ofinterment in the Greyfriars churchyard at one o'clock afternoon.
At the appointed hour Mannering went to a small house in the suburbs tothe southward of the city, where he found the place of mourningindicated, as usual in Scotland, by two rueful figures with long blackcloaks, white crapes and hat-bands, holding in their hands poles,adorned with melancholy streamers of the same description. By two othermutes, who, from their visages, seemed suffering under the pressure ofsome strange calamity, he was ushered into the dining-parlour of thedefunct, where the company were assembled for the funeral.
In Scotland the custom, now disused in England, of inviting therelations of the deceased to the interment is universally retained. Onmany occasions this has a singular and striking effect, but itdegenerates into mere empty form and grimace in cases where the defuncthas had the misfortune to live unbeloved and die unlamented. TheEnglish service for the dead, one of the most beautiful and impressiveparts of the ritual of the church, would have in such cases the effectof fixing the attention, and uniting the thoughts and feelings of theaudience present in an exercise of devotion so peculiarly adapted tosuch an occasion. But according to the Scottish custom, if there be notreal feeling among the assistants, there is nothing to supply thedeficiency, and exalt or rouse the attention; so that a sense oftedious form, and almost hypocritical restraint, is too apt to pervadethe company assembled for the mournful solemnity. Mrs. Margaret Bertramwas unluckily one of those whose good qualities had attached no generalfriendship. She had no near relations who might have mourned fromnatural affection, and therefore her funeral exhibited merely theexterior trappings of sorrow.
Mannering, therefore, stood among this lugubrious company of cousins inthe third, fourth, fifth, and sixth degree, composing his countenanceto the decent solemnity of all who were around him, and looking as muchconcerned on Mrs. Margaret Bertram's account as if the deceased lady ofSingleside had been his own sister or mother. After a deep and awfulpause, the company began to talk aside, under their breaths, however,and as if in the chamber of a dying person.
'Our poor friend,' said one grave gentleman, scarcely opening hismouth, for fear of deranging the necessary solemnity of his features,and sliding his whisper from between his lips, which were as littleunclosed as possible--'our poor friend has died well to pass in theworld.'
'Nae doubt,' answered the person addressed, with half-closed eyes;'poor Mrs. Margaret was aye careful of the gear.'
'Any news to-day, Colonel Mannering?' said one of the gentlemen whom hehad dined with the day before, but in a tone which might, for itsimpressive gravity, have communicated the death of his whole generation.
'Nothing particular, I believe, sir,' said Mannering, in the cadencewhich was, he observed, appropriated to the house of mourning.
'I understand,' continued the first speaker, emphatically, and with theair of one who is well informed--'I understand there IS a settlement.'
'And what does little Jenny Gibson get?'
'A hundred, and the auld repeater.'
'That's but sma' gear, puir thing; she had a sair time o't with theauld leddy. But it's ill waiting for dead folk's shoon.'
'I am afraid,' said the politician, who was close by Mannering, 'wehave not done with your old friend Tippoo Sahib yet, I doubt he'll givethe Company more plague; and I am told, but you'll know for certain,that East India Stock is not rising.'
'I trust it will, sir, soon.'
'Mrs. Margaret,' said another person, mingling in the conversation,'had some India bonds. I know that, for I drew the interest for her; itwould be des
irable now for the trustees and legatees to have theColonel's advice about the time and mode of converting them into money.For my part I think--but there's Mr. Mortcloke to tell us they are gaunto lift.'
Mr. Mortcloke the undertaker did accordingly, with a visage ofprofessional length and most grievous solemnity, distribute among thepall-bearers little cards, assigning their respective situations inattendance upon the coffin. As this precedence is supposed to beregulated by propinquity to the defunct, the undertaker, howeverskilful a master of these lugubrious ceremonies, did not escape givingsome offence. To be related to Mrs. Bertram was to be of kin to thelands of Singleside, and was a propinquity of which each relativepresent at that moment was particularly jealous. Some murmurs therewere on the occasion, and our friend Dinmont gave more open offence,being unable either to repress his discontent or to utter it in the keyproperly modulated to the solemnity. 'I think ye might hae at leastgi'en me a leg o' her to carry,' he exclaimed, in a voice considerablylouder than propriety admitted. 'God! an it hadna been for the rigs o'land, I would hae gotten her a' to carry mysell, for as mony gentles asare here.'
A score of frowning and reproving brows were bent upon the unappalledyeoman, who, having given vent to his displeasure, stalked sturdilydownstairs with the rest of the company, totally disregarding thecensures of those whom his remarks had scandalised.
And then the funeral pomp set forth; saulies with their batons andgumphions of tarnished white crape, in honour of the well-preservedmaiden fame of Mrs. Margaret Bertram. Six starved horses, themselvesthe very emblems of mortality, well cloaked and plumed, lugging alongthe hearse with its dismal emblazonry, crept in slow state towards theplace of interment, preceded by Jamie Duff, an idiot, who, with weepersand cravat made of white paper, attended on every funeral, and followedby six mourning coaches, filled with the company. Many of these nowgave more free loose to their tongues, and discussed with unrestrainedearnestness the amount of the succession, and the probability of itsdestination. The principal expectants, however, kept a prudent silence,indeed ashamed to express hopes which might prove fallacious; and theagent or man of business, who alone knew exactly how matters stood,maintained a countenance of mysterious importance, as if determined topreserve the full interest of anxiety and suspense.
At length they arrived at the churchyard gates, and from thence, amidthe gaping of two or three dozen of idle women with infants in theirarms, and accompanied by some twenty children, who ran gambolling andscreaming alongside of the sable procession, they finally arrived atthe burial-place of the Singleside family. This was a square enclosurein the Greyfriars churchyard, guarded on one side by a veteran angelwithout a nose, and having only one wing, who had the merit of havingmaintained his post for a century, while his comrade cherub, who hadstood sentinel on the corresponding pedestal, lay a broken trunk amongthe hemlock, burdock, and nettles which grew in gigantic luxuriancearound the walls of the mausoleum. A moss-grown and broken inscriptioninformed the reader that in the year 1650 Captain Andrew Bertram, firstof Singleside, descended of the very ancient and honourable house ofEllangowan, had caused this monument to be erected for himself and hisdescendants. A reasonable number of scythes and hour-glasses, anddeath's heads and cross-bones, garnished the following sprig ofsepulchral poetry to the memory of the founder of the mausoleum:--
Nathaniel's heart, Bezaleel's hand If ever any had, These boldly do I say had he, Who lieth in this bed.
Here, then, amid the deep black fat loam into which her ancestors werenow resolved, they deposited the body of Mrs. Margaret Bertram; and,like soldiers returning from a military funeral, the nearest relationswho might be interested in the settlements of the lady urged thedog-cattle of the hackney coaches to all the speed of which they werecapable, in order to put an end to farther suspense on that interestingtopic.
