The Journal of Sir Walter Scott from the Original Manuscript at Abbotsford June, 1829
by Sir Walter Scott
June 1.—Being Sunday I remained to work the whole day, and finished
half of the proposed volume of History. I was not disturbed the whole
day, a thing rather unusual.
June 2.—Received Mr. Rees of London and Col. Ferguson to breakfast.
Mr. Rees is clearly of opinion our scheme (the Magnum) must
answer.  I got to letter-writing after breakfast, and cleared off
old scores in some degree. Dr. Ross called and would hardly hear of my
going out. I was obliged, however, to attend the meeting of the trustees
for the Theatre.  The question to be decided was, whether we should
embrace an option left to us of taking the old Theatre at a valuation,
or whether we should leave it to Mrs. Siddons and Mr. Murray to make the
best of it. There were present Sir Patrick Murray, Baron Hume, Lord
Provost, Sir John Hay, Mr. Gilbert Innes, and myself. We were all of
opinion that personally we ought to have nothing to do with it. But I
thought as trustees for the public, we were bound to let the public know
how the matter stood, and that they might, if they pleased, have the
theatrical property for £16,000, which is dog cheap. They were all clear
to give it up (the right of reversion) to Mrs. Siddons. I am glad she
should have it, for she is an excellent person, and so is her brother.
But I think it has been a little jobbish. There is a clause providing
the new patentees may redeem. I desired that the circumstance should be
noted, that we were only exercising our own judgment, leaving the future
trustees to exercise theirs. I rather insisted that there should be some
saving clause of this kind, even for the sake of our honour. But I could
not prevail upon my colleagues to put such a saving clause on the
minutes, though they agreed to the possibility of the new patentees
redeeming on behalf of the public. I do not think we have done right.
 The first volume had just been issued with a dedication
to the King. The series was completed in 48 vols., published at the
beginning of each month, between 1829-33, and the circulation went on
increasing until it reached 35,000 monthly.
 Theatre Royal, Edinburgh, which stood at that time in
Shakespeare Square, the site of the present General Post-Office.
I called on Mr. Cadell, whose reports of the Magnum might fill up the
dreams of Alnaschar should he sleep as long as the seven sleepers. The
rest was labour and letters till bed-time.
June 3.—The ugly symptoms still continue. Dr. Ross does not make much
of it, and I think he is apt to look grave.  I wrote in the morning.
Dr. Macintosh Mackay came to breakfast, and brought a Gaelic book, which
he has published—the Poetry of Rob Donn—some of which seems pretty as
he explained it. Court kept me till near two, and then home comes I.
Afternoon and evening was spent as usual. In the evening Dr. Ross
ordered me to be cupped, an operation which I only knew from its being
practised by that eminent medical practitioner the barber of Bagdad. It
is not painful; and, I think, resembles a giant twisting about your
flesh between his finger and thumb.
 Mr. Lockhart remarks that, besides the usual allowance of
rheumatism, and other lesser ailments, Sir Walter had an attack that
season of a nature which gave his family great alarm, and which for some
days he himself regarded with the darkest prognostications. After some
weeks, during which he complained of headache and nervous irritation,
certain hæmorrhages indicated the sort of relief required, and he
obtained it from copious cupping.—Life, vol. ix. p. 327-8.
June 4.—I was obliged to absent myself from the Court on Dr. Ross's
positive instance; and, what is worse, I was compelled to send an
apology to Hopetoun House, where I expected to see Madame Caradori, who
was to sing Jock of Hazeldean. I wrote the song for Sophia; and I find
my friends here still prefer her to the foreign syren.
"However, Madame Caradori,
To miss you I am very sorry,
I should have taken it for glory
To have heard you sing my Border story."
I worked at the Tales of my Grandfather, but leisurely.
June 5.—Cadell came to dine with me tête-à-tête, for the girls are
gone to Hopetoun House. We had ample matter to converse upon, for his
horn was full of good news. While we were at dinner we had letters from
London and Ireland, which decided him to raise the impression of
Waverley to 15,000. This, with 10,000 on the number line which Ireland
is willing to take, will make £18,000 a year of divisible profit. This
leads to a further speculation, as I said, of great importance. Longman
& Co. have agreed to sell their stock on hand of the Poetry, in which
they have certain shares, their shares included, for £8000. Cadell
thinks he could, by selling off at cheap rates, sorting, making waste,
etc., get rid of the stock for about £5000, leaving £3000 for the
purchase of the copyrights, and proposes to close the bargain as much
cheaper as he can, but at all events to close it. Whatever shall fall
short of the price returned by the stock, the sale of which shall be
entirely at his risk, shall be reckoned as the price of the copyright,
and we shall pay half of that balance. I had no hesitation in
authorising him to proceed in his bargain with Owen Rees of Longman's
house upon that principle. For supposing, according to Cadell's present
idea, the loss on the stock shall amount to £2000 or £3000, the
possession of the entire copyright undivided would enable us,
calculating upon similar success to that of the Novels, to make at least
£500 per cent. Longman & Co. have indeed an excellent bargain, but then
so will we. We pay dear indeed for what the ostensible subject of sale
is, but if it sets free almost the whole of our copyrights, and places
them in our own hands, we get a most valuable quid pro quo. There is
only one-fourth, I think, of Marmion in Mr. Murray's hands, and it
must be the deuce if that cannot be [secured].  Mr. Cadell proposed
that, as he took the whole books on his risk, he ought to have
compensation, and that it should consist in the sum to be given to me
for arranging and making additions to the volumes of Poetry thus to be
republished. I objected to this, for in the first place he may suffer no
loss, for the books may go off more rapidly than he thinks or expects.
In the second place, I do not know what my labours in the Poetry may be.
In either case it is a blind bargain; but if he should be a sufferer
beyond the clear half of the loss, which we agree to share with him, I
agreed to make him some compensation, and he is willing to take what I
shall think just; so stands our bargain. Remained at home and wrote
about four pages of Tales. I should have done more, but my head, as
Squire Sullen says, "aiked consumedly."  Rees has given Cadell a
written offer to be binding till the twelfth; meantime I have written to
Lockhart to ask John Murray if he will treat for the fourth share of
Marmion, which he possesses. It can be worth but little to him, and
gives us all the copyrights. I have a letter from Sir Thomas Dick
Lauder, touching a manuscript of Messrs. Hay Allan called the
Vestiarium Scotiæ by a Sir Richard Forrester. If it is an imposition
it is cleverly done, but I doubt the quarter it comes from. These Hay
Allans are men of warm imaginations. It makes the strange averment that
all the Low-Country gentlemen and border clans wore tartan, and gives
sets of them all. I must see the manuscript before I believe in it. The
Allans are singular men, of much accomplishment but little probity—that
is, in antiquarian matters. Cadell lent me £10,—funny enough, after all
our grand expectations, for Croesus to want such a gratility!
 See infra, p. 299.
 The Beaux's Stratagem, Farquhar.
June 7.—I rose at seven, and wrote to Sir Thomas Lauder a long
warning on the subject of these Allans and their manuscript. 
Proceeded to write, but found myself pulled up by the necessity of
reading a little. This occupied my whole morning. The Lord President
called very kindly to desire me to keep at home to-morrow. I thought of
being out, but it may be as well not. I am somehow or other either
listless or lazy. My head aches cruelly. I made a fight at reading and
working till eleven, and then came sleep with a party-coloured [mantle]
of fantastic hues, and wrapt me into an imaginary world.
 Through the courtesy of Miss Dick Lauder I am enabled to
give the letter referred to:—
"My DEAR SIR THOMAS,—I received your kind letter and interesting
communication yesterday, and hasten to reply. I am ashamed of the
limited hospitality I was able to offer Mr. Lauder, but circumstances
permitted me no more. I was much pleased with his lively and intelligent
manners, and hope he will live to be a comfort and a credit to Lady
Lauder and you.
"I need not say I have the greatest interest in the MS. which you
mention. In case it shall really prove an authentic document, there
would not be the least difficulty in getting the Bannatyne Club to take,
perhaps, 100 copies, or obtaining support enough so as, at the least, to
preclude the possibility of loss to the ingenious Messrs. Hay Allan. But
I think it indispensable that the original MS. should be sent for a
month or so to the Register House under the charge of the Deputy
Register, Mr. Thomson, that its antiquity be closely scrutinised by
competent persons. The art of imitating ancient writing has got to a
considerable perfection, and it has been the bane of Scottish
literature, and disgrace of her antiquities, that we have manifested an
eager propensity to believe without inquiry and propagate the errors
which we adopt too hastily ourselves. The general proposition that the
Lowlanders ever wore plaids is difficult to swallow. They were of twenty
different races, and almost all distinctly different from the Scots
Irish, who are the proper Scots, from which the Royal Family are
descended. For instance, there is scarce a great family in the Lowlands
of Scotland that is not to be traced to the Normans, the proudest as
well as most civilised race in the eleventh and twelfth centuries. Is it
natural to think that holding the Scots in the contempt in which they
did, they would have adopted their dress? If you will look at Bruce's
speech to David I., as the historian Ælred tells the story, you will see
he talks of the Scots as a British officer would do of Cherokees. Or
take our country, the central and western part of the border: it was
British, Welsh if you please, with the language and manners of that
people who certainly wore no tartan. It is needless to prosecute this,
though I could show, I think, that there is no period in Scottish
History when the manners, language, or dress of the Highlanders were
adopted in the Low Country. They brought them with them from Ireland, as
you will see from the very curious prints in Derrick's picture of
Ireland, where you see the chiefs and followers of the wild Irish in the
ordinary Highland dress, tempore Queen Elizabeth. Besides this, where
has slept this universal custom that nowhere, unless in this MS., is it
even heard of? Lesley knew it not, though the work had been in his
possession, and his attention must have been called to it when writing
concerning the three races of Scots—Highlanders, Lowlanders, and
Bordermen, and treating of their dress in particular. Andrew Borde knows
nothing of it, nor the Frenchman who published the geographical work
from which Pinkerton copied the prints of the Highlander and Lowlander,
the former in a frieze plaid or mantle, while the Lowlander struts away
in a cloak and trunk hose, liker his neighbour the Fleming. I will not
state other objections, though so many occur, that the authenticity of
the MS. being proved, I would rather suppose the author had been some
tartan-weaver zealous for his craft, who wished to extend the use of
tartan over the whole kingdom. I have been told, and believe till now,
that the use of tartan was never general in Scotland (Lowlands) until
the Union, when the detestation of that measure led it to be adopted as
the national colour, and the ladies all affected tartan screens or
"Now, a word to your own private ear, my dear Sir Thomas. I have
understood that the Messrs. Hay Allan are young men of talent, great
accomplishments, enthusiasm for Scottish manners, and an exaggerating
imagination, which possibly deceives even themselves. I myself saw one
of these gentlemen wear the Badge of High Constable of Scotland, which
he could have no more right to wear than the Crown. Davidoff used also
to amuse us with stories of knighthoods and orders which he saw them
wear at Sir William Cumming Gordon's. Now this is all very well, and I
conceive people may fall into such dreaming habits easily enough, and be
very agreeable and talented men in other respects, and may be very
amusing companions in the country, but their authority as antiquaries
must necessarily be a little apocryphal when the faith of MSS. rests
upon their testimony. An old acquaintance of mine, Captain Watson of the
navy, told me he knew these gentlemen's father, and had served with him;
he was lieutenant, and of or about Captain Watson's age, between sixty I
suppose, and seventy at present. Now what chance was there that either
from age or situation he should be receiving gifts from the young
Chevalier of Highland Manuscripts.
"All this, my dear Sir Thomas, you will make your own, but I cannot
conceal from you my reasons, because I would wish you to know my real
opinion. If it is an imitation, it is a very good one, but the title
'Liber Vestiarium' is false Latin I should think not likely to occur to
a Scotsman of Buchanan's age. Did you look at the watermark of the MS.?
If the Manuscript be of undeniable antiquity, I consider it as a great
curiosity, and most worthy to be published. But I believe nothing else
than ocular inspection will satisfy most cautious
antiquaries....—Yours, my dear Sir Thomas, always,
"EDINBURGH, 5 June 1829."
The Messrs. Hay Allan subsequently took the names of John Sobieski
Stuart (who assumed the title of Comte d'Albanie) and Charles Edward
Stuart. John Sobieski died in 1872, and Charles Edward in 1880. The
"original" of Sir Richard Forrester's manuscript was never submitted to
the inspection of the Deputy Register, as suggested by Scott; but it was
published in a very handsome shape a dozen years later, and furnished a
text for an article in the Quarterly, in which the authenticity of the
book, and the claims of the author and his brother, were unsparingly
criticised by the late Professor Skene of Glasgow.—See "The Heirs of
the Stuarts" in Quarterly Review, vol. lxxxii.
June, 8.—I wrote the whole morning till two o'clock. Then I went into
the gardens of Princes Street, to my great exhilaration. I never felt
better for a walk; also it is the first I have taken this whole week and
more. I visited some remote garden grounds, where I had not been since I
walked there with the good Samaritan Skene, sadly enough, at the time
of my misfortunes.  The shrubs and young trees, which were then
invisible, are now of good size, and gay with leaf and blossom. I, too,
old trunk as I am, have put out tender buds of hope, which seemed
checked for ever.
 Ante, vol. i. p. 91, 92.
I may now look with fair hope to freeing myself of obligation from all
men, and spending the rest of my life in ease and quiet. God make me
thankful for so cheering a prospect!
June 9.—I wrote in the morning, set out for a walk at twelve o'clock
as far as Mr. Cadell's. I found him hesitating about his views, and
undecided about the Number plan. He thinks the first plan answers so
much beyond expectation it is a pity to interfere with it, and talks of
re-engraving the plates. This would be touchy, but nothing is resolved
Anne had a little party, where Lady Charlotte Bury, Lady Hopetoun, and
others met the Caradori, who sung to us very kindly. She sung Jock of
Hazeldean very well, and with a peculiar expression of humour. Sandie
Ballantyne kindly came and helped us with fiddle and flageolet. Willie
Clerk was also here. We had a lunch, and were very gay, not the less so
for the want of Mr. Bury, who is a thorough-paced coxcomb, with some
accomplishments, however. I drank two glasses of champagne, which have
muddled my brains for the day. Will Clerk promised to come back and dine
on the wreck of the turkey and tongue, pigeon-pie, etc. He came,
accordingly, and stayed till nine; so no time for work. It was not a
lost day, however.
 There are so few of "Darsie Latimer's" letters preserved
that the following may be given relating to the Bride of Lammermoor:—
"EDIN. Sept. 1, 1829.
"MY DEAR SIR WALTER,—I greet you well (which, by the way, is the
proper mode of salutation in this cursed weather, that is enough to
make us all greet). But to come to my proposal, which is to forward
to you a communication I had within these few days from Sir Robert
Horne Dalrymple Elphinstone.
"After expressing the great pleasure the perusal of your notes to
the new edition of the Novels had given him, he adds: 'I wish you
would give him a hint of what I formerly mentioned to you regarding
my great-grandaunt and your own relative, the unfortunate Bride of
Lammermoor. It was first mentioned to me by Miss Maitland, the
daughter of Lady Rothes (they were the nearest neighbours of the
Stair family in Wigtownshire), and I afterwards heard the tradition
from others in that country. It was to the following effect, that
when, after the noise and violent screaming in the bridal chamber,
comparative stillness succeeded, and the door was forced, the
window was found open, and it was supposed by many that the lover
(Lord Rutherford) had, by the connivance of some of the servants,
found means, during the bustle of the marriage feast, to secrete
himself within the apartment, and that soon after the entry of the
married pair, or at least as soon as the parents and others
retreated and the door was made fast, he had come out from his
concealment, attacked and desperately wounded the bridegroom, and
then made his escape by the window through the garden. As the
unfortunate bride never spoke after having uttered the words
mentioned by Sir Walter, no light could be thrown on the matter by
them. But it was thought that Bucklaw's obstinate silence on the
subject favoured the supposition of the chastisement having been
inflicted by his rival. It is but fair to give the unhappy victim
(who was by all accounts a most gentle and feminine creature) the
benefit of an explanation on a doubtful point.'
"So far my worthy friend, who seems a little jealous of the poor
bride's reputation. I send you his note, and you can make what you
like of it. I am intending a little jaunt to his country, and we
mean to visit sundry old castles in Aberdeenshire, and wish you
were of the party. I have heard nothing of Linton [cognomen for Sir
Adam Ferguson] this summer. I hope you have been passing your time
agreeably.—With best compliments to all friends, I remain, my dear
Sir Walter, ever yours,
June 10.—Nota bene, my complaint quite gone. I attended the Court,
and sat there till late. Evening had its lot of labour, which is, I
think, a second nature to me. It is astonishing how little I look into a
book of entertainment. I have been reading over the Five Nights of St.
Albans,—very much extra mœnia nostri mundi, and possessed of
considerable merit, though the author  loves to play at cherry-pit
with Satan. 
 Written by William Mudford, born 1782, died 1848.
 Twelfth Night, Act III. Sc. 4
June 11.—I was kept at Court by a hearing till near three. Then sat
to Mr. Graham for an hour and a half. When I came home, behold a letter
from Mr. Murray, very handsomely yielding up the fourth share of
Marmion, which he possessed.  Afterwards we went to the theatre,
where St. Ronan's Well was capitally acted by Murray and the Bailie,—the
part of Clara Mowbray being heavy for want of Mrs. Siddons. Poor old
Mrs. Renaud, once the celebrated Mrs. Powell, took leave of the stage.
As I was going to bed at twelve at night, in came R.P.Gillies like a
tobacco cask. I shook him off with some difficulty, pleading my having
been lately ill, but he is to call to-morrow morning.
 See Life, vol ix. pp. 325-6.
June 12.—Gillies made his appearance. I told him frankly I thought he
conducted his affairs too irregularly for any one to assist him, and I
could not in charity advise any one to encourage subscriptions, but that
I should subscribe myself, so I made over to him about £50, which the
Foreign Review owes me, and I will grow hard-hearted and do no more. I
was not long in the Court, but I had to look at the controversy about
the descent of the Douglas family, then I went to Cadell and found him
still cock-a-hoop. He has raised the edition to 17,000, a monstrous
number, yet he thinks it will clear the 20,000, but we must be quiet in
case people jalouse the failure of the plates. I called on Lady
J.S.  When I came home I was sleepy and over-walked. By the way, I
sat till Graham finished my picture.  I fell fast asleep before
dinner, and slept for an hour. After dinner I wrote to Walter, Charles,
Lockhart, and John Murray, and took a screed of my novel; so concluded
the evening idly enough.
 The last reference in the Journal to his old friend Lady
Jane Stuart, who died on the following October.
 Now in the rooms of the Royal Society, Edinburgh.
June 13.—We hear of Sophia's motions. She is to set sail by
steam-boat on the 16th, Tuesday, and Charles is to make a run down with
her. But, alas! my poor Johnnie is, I fear, come to lay his bones in his
native land. Sophia can no longer disguise it from herself, that as his
strength weakens the disease increases. The poor child is so much bent
on coming to see Abbotsford and grandpapa, that it would be cruel not to
comply with his wish—and if affliction comes, we will bear it best
"Not more the schoolboy who expires
Far from his native home desires
To see some friend's familiar face,
Or meet a parent's last embrace."
It must be all as God wills it. Perhaps his native air may be of
More news from Cadell. He deems it necessary to carry up the edition to
[Abbotsford.]—This day was fixed for a start to Abbotsford, where we
arrived about six o'clock, evening. To my thinking, I never saw a
prettier place; and even the trees and flowers seemed to say to me, We
are your own again. But I must not let imagination jade me thus. It
would be to make disappointment doubly bitter: and, God knows, I have in
my child's family matter enough to check any exuberant joy.
June 14.—A delicious day—threatening rain; but with the languid and
affecting manner in which beauty demands sympathy when about to weep. I
wandered about the banks and braes all morning, and got home about
three, and saw everything in tolerable order, excepting that there was
a good number of branches left in the walks. There is a great number of
trees cut, and bark collected. Colonel Ferguson dined with us, and spent
June 15.—Another charming day. Up and despatched packets for
Ballantyne and Cadell; neither of them was furiously to the purpose, but
I had a humour to be alert. I walked over to Huntly Burn, and round by
Chiefswood and Janeswood, where I saw Captain Hamilton. He is busy
finishing his Peninsular campaigns.  He will not be cut out by
Napier, whose work has a strong party cast; and being, besides, purely
abstract and professional, to the public seems very dull. I read General
Miller's account of the South American War.  I liked it the better
that Basil Hall brought the author to breakfast with me in Edinburgh. A
fine, tall, military figure, his left hand withered like the prophet's
gourd, and plenty of scars on him. There have been rare doings in that
vast continent; but the strife is too distant, the country too unknown,
to have the effect upon the imagination which European wars produce.
 Annals of the Peninsular War. 3 vols. 8vo, 1829.
 Memoirs of General Miller in the Service of the Republic
of Peru. 2 vols. 8vo, 1829.
This evening I indulged in the far niente—a rare event with me, but
which I enjoy proportionally.
June 16.—Made up parcel for Dr. Lardner; and now I propose to set
forth my memoranda of Byron for Moore's acceptance, which ought in
civility to have been done long since.  I will have a walk, however,
in the first place.
 Mr. Lockhart had written on June 6:—"Moore is at my
elbow and says he has not the face to bother you, but he has come
exactly to the part where your reminiscences of Lord Byron would come
in; so he is waiting for a week or so in case they should be
forthcoming." And Moore himself had previously reminded Sir Walter of
April 25th, 1829.
"My DEAR SCOTT,—It goes to my heart to bother you, knowing how
bravely and gloriously you are employed for that
task-mistress—Posterity. But you may thank your stars that I have
let you off so long. All that you promised me about Mrs. Gordon and
Gicht, and a variety of other things, is remitted to you; but I
positively must have something from you of your recollections
personally of Byron—and that as soon as possible, for I am just
coming to the period of your acquaintance with him, which was, I
think, in the year 1814. Tell me all the particulars of the
presents you exchanged, and if his letters to you are really all
lost (which I will still hope is not the case); try, as much as
possible, with your memory
'To lure the tassel gentles back again.'
"You will have seen by the newspapers the sad loss my little circle
of home has experienced, a loss never to be made up to us in this
world, whatever it may be the will of God in another. Mrs. Moore's
own health is much broken, and she is about to try what Cheltenham
can do for her, while I proceed to finish my printing in town. It
would be far better for me to remain in my present quiet retreat,
where I am working quite alone, but the devils beckon me nearer
them, and I must begin in a few days. Direct to me, under cover to
Croker—you see I take for granted you will have a packet to
send—and he will always know where to find me.
"My kindest remembrances to Miss Scott, and believe me ever, my
very dear friend, your truly and affectionate,
The "memoranda" were not acknowledged by Moore till Oct. 31, when he
wrote Scott as follows:—
"MY DEAR SCOTT,—I ought to blush 'terrestrial rosy-red, shame's
proper hue' for not sooner acknowledging your precious notes about
Byron. One conclusion, however, you might have drawn from my
silence, namely, that I was satisfied, and had all that I asked
for. Your few pages indeed will be the best ornament of my book.
Murray wished me to write to you (immediately on receipt of the
last MS. you sent me) to press your asking Hobhouse for the letter
of your own (in 1812) that produced Byron's reply. But I was
doubtful whether you would like to authorise the publication of
this letter, and besides it would be now too late, as the devils
are in full hue and cry after my heels.
"Health and prosperity to you, my dear friend, and believe me, ever
yours most truly,
I did not get on with Byron so far as I expected—began it though, and
that is always something. I went to see the woods at Huntly Burn, and
Mars Lea, etc. Met Captain Hamilton, who tells me a shocking thing. Two
Messrs. Stirling of Drumpellier came here and dined one day, and seemed
spirited young men. The younger is murdered by pirates. An Indian vessel
in which he sailed was boarded by these miscreants, who behaved most
brutally; and he, offering resistance I suppose, was shockingly mangled
and flung into the sea. He was afterwards taken up alive, but died soon
after. Such horrid accidents lie in wait for those whom we see "all
joyous and unthinking,"  sweeping along the course of life; and what
end may be waiting ourselves? Who can tell?
June 17.—Must take my leave of sweet Abbotsford, and my leisure hour,
my eve of repose. To go to town will take up the morning.
[Edinburgh.]—We set out about eleven o'clock, got to Edinburgh about
four, where I dined with Baron Clerk and a few Exchequer friends—Lord
Chief Baron, Sir Patrick Murray, Sir Henry Jardine, etc. etc.
June 18.—Corrected proofs for Dr. Dionysius Lardner. Cadell came to
breakfast. Poor fellow, he looks like one who had been overworked; and
the difficulty of keeping paper-makers up to printers, printers up to
draughtsmen, artists to engravers, and the whole party to time, requires
the utmost exertion. He has actually ordered new plates, although the
steel ones which we employ are supposed to throw off 30,000 without
injury. But I doubt something of this. Well, since they will buckle
fortune on our back we must bear it scholarly and wisely.  I went to
Court. Called on my return on J.B. and Cadell. At home I set to correct
Ivanhoe. I had twenty other things more pressing; but, after all,
these novels deserve a preference. Poor Terry is totally prostrated by a
paralytic affection. Continuance of existence not to be wished for.
 Merry Wives, Act I. Sc. 3.
To-morrow I expect Sophia and her family by steam.
June 19.—Sophia, and Charles who acted as her escort, arrived at nine
o'clock morning, fresh from the steamboat. They were in excellent
health—also the little boy and girl; but poor Johnnie seems very much
changed indeed, and I should not be surprised if the scene shortly
closes. There is obviously a great alteration in strength and features.
At dinner we had our family chat on a scale that I had not enjoyed for
many years. The Skenes supped with us.
June 20.—Corrected proof-sheets in the morning for Dr. Lardner. Then
I had the duty of the Court to perform.
As I came home I recommended young Shortreed to Mr. Cadell for a
printing job now and then when Ballantyne is over-loaded, which Mr.
Cadell promised accordingly.
Lady Anna Maria Elliot's company at dinner. Helped on our family party,
and passed the evening pleasantly enough, my anxiety considering.
June 21.—A very wet Sunday. I employed it to good purpose, bestowing
much labour on the History, ten pages of which are now finished. Were it
not for the precarious health of poor Johnnie I would be most happy in
this reunion with my family, but, poor child, this is a terrible
June 22.—I keep working, though interruptedly. But the heat in the
midst of the day makes me flag and grow irresistibly drowsy. Mr. and
Mrs. Skene came to supper this evening. Skene has engaged himself in
drawing illustrations to be etched by himself for Waverley. I wish it
may do. 
 Mr. Skene at this time was engaged upon a series of
etchings, regarding which he had several letters from Sir Walter, one of
which may be given here:—
"MY DEAR SKENE,—I enclose you Basil Hall's letter, which is very
interesting to me; but I would rather decline fixing the attention
of the public further on my old friend George Constable. You know
the modern rage for publication, and it might serve some newsmen's
purpose by publishing something about my old friend, who was an
humourist, which may be unpleasing to his friends and surviving
"I did not think on Craignethan in writing about Tillietudlem, and
I believe it differs in several respects from my Chateau en
Espagne. It is not on the Clyde in particular, and, if I recollect,
the view is limited and wooded. But that can be no objection to
adopting it as that which public taste has adopted as coming
nearest to the ideal of the place. Of the places in the Black
Dwarf, Meiklestane Moor, Ellislie, Earnscliffe, are all and each
vox et, praeterea nihil. Westburnflat once was a real spot, now
there is no subject for the pencil. The vestiges of a tower at the
junction of two wild brooks with a rude hillside, are all that are
subjects for the pencil, and they are very poor ones. Earnscliffe
and Ganderscleuch are also visions.
"I hope your work is afloat [B] and sailing bobbishly. I have not
heard of or seen it.
"Rob Roy has some good and real subjects, as the pass at Loch
Ard, the beautiful fall at Ledeard, near the head of the lake. Let
me know all you desire to be informed without fear of bothering.
Kindest compliments to Mrs. Skene and the young folks.—Always
yours entirely, WALTER SCOTT."
[B] Twenty numbers of this work were published in 1828 and 1829
under the title of "A Series of Sketches of the existing Localities
alluded to in the Waverley Novels," etched from original drawings by
James Skene, Esq.
June 23.—I was detained in the Court till half-past [three]. Captain
William Lockhart dined with Skene. The Captain's kind nature had brought
him to Edinburgh to meet his sister-in-law.
June 24.—I was detained late in the Court, but still had time to go
with Adam Wilson and call upon a gentlemanlike East Indian officer,
called Colonel Francklin, who appears an intelligent and respectable
man. He writes the History of Captain Thomas,  a person of the
condition of a common seaman, who raised himself to the rank of a native
prince, and for some time waged a successful war with the powers around
him. The work must be entertaining.
 A copy of this rather rare book is still in the
Abbotsford Library. Its title is "Colonel Wm. Francklin's Military
Memoirs of George Thomas, who by extraordinary talents and enterprise
rose from an obscure situation to the rank of General in the service of
the Native Powers in the N.W. of India," 4to, Calcutta, 1803.
June 25.—Finished correcting proofs for Tales, 3d Series. The Court
was over soon, but I was much exhausted. On the return home quite sleepy
and past work. I looked in on Cadell, whose hand is in his housewife's
cap, driving and pushing to get all the works forward in due order, and
cursing the delays of artists and engravers. I own I wish we had not
hampered ourselves with such causes of delay.
June 26.—Mr. Ellis, missionary from the South Sea Islands,
breakfasted, introduced by Mr. Fletcher, minister of the parish of
Mr. Ellis's account of the progress of civilisation, as connected with
religion, is very interesting. Knowledge of every kind is
diffused—reading, writing, printing, abundantly common. Polygamy
abolished. Idolatry is put down; the priests, won over by the chiefs,
dividing among them the consecrated lands which belonged to their
temples. Great part of the population are still without religion, but
willing to be instructed. Wars are become infrequent; and there is in
each state a sort of representative body, or senate, who are a check on
the despotism of the chief. All this has come hand in hand with
religion. Mr. Ellis tells me that the missionaries of different sects
avoided carefully letting the natives know that there were points of
disunion between them. Not so some Jesuits who had lately arrived, and
who taught their own ritual as the only true one. Mr. Ellis described
their poetry to me, and gave some examples; it had an Ossianic
character, and was composed of metaphor. He gave me a small collection
of hymns printed in the islands. If this gentleman is sincere, which I
have no doubt of, he is an illustrious character. He was just about to
return to the Friendly Islands, having come here for his wife's health.
[Blairadam.]—After the Court we set off (the two Thomsons and I) for
Blair-Adam, where we held our Macduff Club for the twelfth anniversary.
We met the Chief Baron, Lord Sydney Osborne, Will Clerk, the merry
knight Sir Adam Ferguson, with our venerable host the Lord Chief
Commissioner, and merry men were we.
June 27.—I ought not, where merry men convene, to omit our jovial son
of Neptune, Admiral Adam. The morning proving delightful, we set out for
the object of the day, which was Falkland. We passed through Lochore,
but without stopping, and saw on the road eastward, two or three places,
as Balbedie, Strathendry, and some others known to me by name. Also we
went through the town of Leslie, and saw what remains of the celebrated
rendezvous of rustic gallantry called Christ's Kirk on the Green. 
It is now cut up with houses, one of the most hideous of which is a new
church, having the very worst and most offensive kind of Venetian
windows. This, I am told, has replaced a quiet lowly little Gothic
building, coeval, perhaps, with the royal poet who celebrated the spot.
Next we went to Falkland, where we found Mr. Howden, factor of Mr.
Tyndall Bruce, waiting to show us the palace.
 The poem of this name is attributed to King James I. of
Scotland, but Dr. Irving in his History of Scottish Poetry says the
earliest edition known to him dates only from 1663.
Falkland has most interesting remains. A double entrance-tower, and a
side building running east from it, is roofed, and in some degree
habitable; a corresponding building running northward from the eastern
corner is totally ruinous, having been destroyed by fire. The
architecture is highly ornamented, in the style of the Palace at
Stirling. Niches with statues, with projections, cornices, etc, are
lavished throughout. Many cornice medallions exhibited such heads as
those procured from the King's room at Stirling, the originals, perhaps,
being the same. The repeated cypher of James V. and Mary of Guise attest
the builder of this part of the palace. When complete it had been a
quadrangle. There is as much of it as remained when Slezer published his
drawings. Some part of the interior has been made what is called
habitable, that is, a half-dozen of bad rooms have been gotten out of
it. Am clear in my own mind a ruin should be protected, but never
repaired. The proprietor has a beautiful place called Nut-hill, within
ten minutes' walk of Falkland, and commanding some fine views of it and
of the Lomond Hill. This should be the residence. But Mr. Bruce and his
predecessor, my old professor, John Bruce,  deserve great credit for
their attention to prevent dilapidation, which was doing its work fast
upon the ancient palace. The only remarkable apartment was a large and
well-proportioned gallery with a painted roof—tempore Jacobi
Sexti—and built after his succession to the throne of England. I
noticed a curious thing,—a hollow column concealed the rope which rung
the Castle bell, keeping it safe from injury and interruption.
 Professor of Logic in the University of Edinburgh from
1775 till 1792, when he resigned his chair and became Keeper of the
State Paper Office, and Historiographer to the East India Company in
London. He wrote several elaborate and valuable reports for the
Government, which, though printed, were never published; among others,
one in 1799, in 2 vols. 8vo, "On the Union between England and Scotland:
its causes, effects, and influence of Great Britain in Europe." In the
previous year he also prepared another on the arrangements made for
repelling the Armada, and their application to the crisis of 1798. This
able man returned to Scotland, and died in Falkland about two years
before Scott visited the place.
The town of Falkland is old, with very narrow streets. The arrival of
two carriages and a gig was an event important enough to turn out the
whole population. They are said to be less industrious, more dissipated,
and readier to become soldiers than their neighbours. So long a court
retains its influence!
We dined at Wellfield with my Mend George Cheape, with whom I rode in
the cavalry some thirty years ago. Much mirth and good wine made us
return in capital tune. The Chief Baron and Admiral Adam did not go on
this trip. When we returned it was time to go to bed by a candle.
June 28.—Being Sunday, we lounged about in the neighbourhood of the
crags called Kiery Craigs, etc. The Sheriff-substitute of Kinross came
to dinner, and brought a gold signet  which had been found in that
town. It was very neat work, about the size of a shilling. It bore in a
shield the arms of Scotland and England, parti per pale, those of
Scotland occupying the dexter side. The shield is of the heater or
triangular shape. There is no crown nor legend of any kind; a slip of
gold folds upwards on the back of the hinge, and makes the handle neatly
enough. It is too well wrought for David II.'s time, and James IV. is
the only monarch of the Scottish line who, marrying a daughter of
England, may carry the arms of both countries parti per pale. Mr.
Skelton is the name of the present possessor.
 An account of the finding of this seal (which was thought
to be that of Joan of Beaufort, wife of James I.) at Kinross, in April
1829, is given in the Archæologia Scotica, vol. iv. p. 420.
Two reported discoveries. One, that the blaeberry shrub contains the
tanning quality as four to one compared to the oak—which may be of
great importance, as it grows so commonly on our moors.
The other, that the cutting of an apple-tree, or other fruit-tree, may
be preserved by sticking it into a potato and planting both together.
Curious, if true.
June 29 [Edinburgh].—We dined together at Blair-Adam, having walked
in the woods in the morning, and seen a beautiful new walk made through
the woody hill behind the house. In a fine evening, after an early
dinner, our party returned to Edinburgh, and there each dispersed to his
several home and resting-place. I had the pleasure of finding my family
all well, except Johnnie.
June 30.—After my short sniff of country air, here am I again at the
receipt of custom. The sale with Longman & Co., for stock and copyrights
of my [Poetical] Works, is completed, for £7000, at dates from twelve to
thirty-six months. There are many sets out of which we may be able to
clear the money, and then we shall make something to clear the
copyright. I am sure this may be done, and that the bargain will prove a
good one in the long run.
Dined at home with my family, whom, as they disperse to-morrow, I have
dedicated the evening to.