CHAPTER VIII 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
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'Your majesty,' said Mannering, laughing, 'has solemnised your abdicationby an act of mercy and charity. That fellow will scarce think of going tolaw.'
'O, you are quite wrong,' said the experienced lawyer. 'The onlydifference is, I have lost my client and my fee. He'll never rest till hefinds somebody to encourage him to commit the folly he has predetermined.No! no! I have only shown you another weakness of my character: I alwaysspeak 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 glad myold friend Mac-Morlan has sent you to me; he is an active, honest, andintelligent man, long sheriff-substitute of the county of--under me, andstill holds the office. He knows I have a regard for that unfortunatefamily of Ellangowan, and for poor Lucy. I have not seen her since shewas twelve years old, and she was then a sweet pretty girl, under themanagement of a very silly father. But my interest in her is of an earlydate. I was called upon, Mr. Mannering, being then sheriff of thatcounty, to investigate the particulars of a murder which had beencommitted near Ellangowan the day on which this poor child was born; andwhich, by a strange combination that I was unhappily not able to trace,involved the death or abstraction of her only brother, a boy of aboutfive years old. No, Colonel, I shall never forget the misery of the houseof Ellangowan that morning! the father half-distracted--the mother deadin premature travail--the helpless infant, with scarce any one to attendit, coming wawling and crying into this miserable world at such a momentof unutterable misery. We lawyers are not of iron, sir, or of brass, anymore than you soldiers are of steel. We are conversant with the crimesand distresses of civil society, as you are with those that occur in astate of war, and to do our duty in either case a little apathy isperhaps necessary. But the devil take a soldier whose heart can be ashard as his sword, and his dam catch the lawyer who bronzes his bosominstead of his forehead! But come, I am losing my Saturday at e'en. Willyou have the kindness to trust me with these papers which relate to MissBertram's business? and stay--to-morrow you'll take a bachelor's dinnerwith an old lawyer,--I insist upon it--at three precisely, and come anhour sooner. The old lady is to be buried on Monday; it is the orphan'scause, and we'll borrow an hour from the Sunday to talk over thisbusiness, although I fear nothing can be done if she has altered hersettlement, unless perhaps it occurs within the sixty days, and then, ifMiss Bertram can show that she possesses the character of heir-at-law,why--But, hark! my lieges are impatient of their interregnum. I do notinvite you to rejoin us, Colonel; it would be a trespass on yourcomplaisance, unless you had begun the day with us, and gradually glidedon from wisdom to mirth, and from mirth to-to-to--extravagance.Good-night. Harry, go home with Mr. Mannering to his lodging. Colonel, Iexpect you at a little 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 meet theexigencies 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 Barnes hadmade and poured out, after the Dominie had scalded himself in theattempt, Mr. Pleydell was suddenly ushered in. A nicely dressed bob-wig,upon every hair of which a zealous and careful barber had bestowed itsproper allowance of powder; a well-brushed black suit, with very cleanshoes and gold buckles and stock-buckle; a manner rather reserved andformal than intrusive, but withal showing only the formality of manner,by no means that of awkwardness; a countenance, the expressive andsomewhat comic features of which were in complete repose--all showed abeing perfectly different from the choice spirit of the evening before. Aglance of shrewd and piercing fire in his eye was the only markedexpression which recalled the man of 'Saturday at e'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? TrosTyriusve, a lawyer, you know, is of both religions, or rather I shouldsay of both forms;--or can I assist in passing the fore-noon otherwise?You'll excuse my old-fashioned importunity, I was born in a time when aScotchman was thought inhospitable if he left a guest alone a moment,except when he slept; but I trust you will tell me at once if I intrude.'
'Not at all, my dear sir,' answered Colonel Mannering. 'I am delighted toput myself under your pilotage. I should wish much to hear some of yourScottish 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, whois his pilot in ordinary, cannot well assist him here, especially as hehas expressed his determination of going to some of your darker and moreremote 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 this man'scharge,' said Pleydell; 'he'll attend him, or conduct him, wherever hechooses to go, with a happy indifference as to kirk or market, meeting orcourt of justice, or any other place whatever; and bring him safe home atwhatever hour you appoint; so that Mr. Barnes there may be left to thefreedom 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 wig withouta grain of powder; a narrow chest and a stooping posture; hands which,placed like props on either side of the pulpit, seemed necessary ratherto support the person than to assist the gesticulation of the preacher;no gown, not even that of Geneva, a tumbled band, and a gesture whichseemed scarce voluntary, were the first circumstances which struck astranger. 'The preacher seems a very ungainly person,' whisperedMannering to his new friend.
'Never fear, he's the son of an excellent Scottish lawyer; [Footnote: Thefather of Doctor Erskine was an eminent lawyer, and his Institutes of theLaw of Scotland are to this day the text-book of students of thatscience.] he'll show blood, I'll warrant him.'
The learned Counsellor predicted truly. A lecture was delivered, fraughtwith new, striking, and entertaining views of Scripture history, a sermonin which the Calvinism of the Kirk of Scotland was ably supported, yetmade the basis of a sound system of practical morals, which shouldneither shelter the sinner under the cloak of speculative faith or ofpeculiarity of opinion, nor leave him loose to the waves of unbelief andschism. Something there was of an antiquated turn of argument andmetaphor, but it only served to give zest and peculiar
ity to the style ofelocution. The sermon was not read: a scrap of paper containing the headsof the discourse was occasionally referred to, and the enunciation, whichat first seemed imperfect and embarrassed, became, as the preacher warmedin his progress, animated and distinct; and although the discourse couldnot be quoted as a correct specimen of pulpit eloquence, yet Manneringhad seldom heard so much learning, metaphysical acuteness, and energy ofargument brought into 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 different partiesin the kirk, about particular points of church discipline; but withoutfor a moment losing personal regard or respect for each other, orsuffering malignity to interfere in an opposition steady, constant, andapparently conscientious on both sides.'
'And you, Mr. Pleydell, what do you think of their points of difference?'
'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 suffering andEpiscopal Church of Scotland--the shadow of a shade now, and fortunatelyso; but I love to pray where my fathers prayed before me, withoutthinking worse of the Presbyterian forms because they do not affect mewith the same associations.' And with this remark they parted untildinner-time.
From the awkward access to the lawyer's mansion, Mannering was induced toform 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 close thatthe neighbours might have shaken hands with each other from the differentsides, and occasionally the space between was traversed by woodengalleries, and thus entirely closed up. The stair, the scale-stair, wasnot well cleaned; and on entering the house Mannering was struck with thenarrowness and meanness of the wainscotted passage. But the library, intowhich he was shown by an elderly, respectable-looking man-servant, was acomplete contrast to these unpromising appearances. It was awell-proportioned room, hung with a portrait or two of Scottishcharacters of eminence, by Jamieson, the Caledonian Vandyke, andsurrounded with books, the best editions of the best authors, and inparticular an admirable collection of classics.
'These,' said Pleydell, 'are my tools of trade. A lawyer without historyor literature is a mechanic, a mere working mason; if he possesses someknowledge of these, he may venture to call himself an architect.'
But Mannering was chiefly delighted with the view from the windows, whichcommanded that incomparable prospect of the ground between Edinburgh andthe sea--the Firth of Forth, with its islands, the embayment which isterminated by the Law of North Berwick, and the varied shores of Fife tothe northward, indenting with a hilly outline the clear blue horizon.
When Mr. Pleydell had sufficiently enjoyed the surprise of his guest, hecalled 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 my researcheshave been in vain. The old lady was certainly absolute fiar, and mightdispose of it in full right of property. All that we have to hope is,that the devil may not have tempted her to alter this very propersettlement. You must attend the old girl's funeral to-morrow, to whichyou will receive an invitation, for I have acquainted her agent with yourbeing here on Miss Bertram's part; and I will meet you afterwards at thehouse she inhabited, and be present to see fair play at the opening ofthe settlement. The old cat had a little girl, the orphan of somerelation, who lived with her as a kind of slavish companion. I hope shehas had the conscience to make her independent, in consideration of thepeine forte et dure to which she subjected her during her lifetime.'
Three gentlemen now appeared, and were introduced to the stranger. Theywere men of good sense, gaiety, and general information, so that the daypassed very pleasantly over; and Colonel Mannering assisted, about eighto'clock at night, in discussing the landlord's bottle, which was, ofcourse, a magnum. Upon his return to the inn he found a card inviting himto the funeral of Miss Margaret Bertram, late of Singleside, which was toproceed from her own house to the place of interment in the Greyfriarschurchyard 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, adornedwith melancholy streamers of the same description. By two other mutes,who, from their visages, seemed suffering under the pressure of somestrange calamity, he was ushered into the dining-parlour of the defunct,where the company were assembled for the funeral.
In Scotland the custom, now disused in England, of inviting the relationsof the deceased to the interment is universally retained. On manyoccasions this has a singular and striking effect, but it degeneratesinto mere empty form and grimace in cases where the defunct has had themisfortune to live unbeloved and die unlamented. The English service forthe dead, one of the most beautiful and impressive parts of the ritual ofthe church, would have in such cases the effect of fixing the attention,and uniting the thoughts and feelings of the audience present in anexercise of devotion so peculiarly adapted to such an occasion. Butaccording to the Scottish custom, if there be not real feeling among theassistants, there is nothing to supply the deficiency, and exalt or rousethe attention; so that a sense of tedious form, and almost hypocriticalrestraint, is too apt to pervade the company assembled for the mournfulsolemnity. Mrs. Margaret Bertram was unluckily one of those whose goodqualities had attached no general friendship. She had no near relationswho might have mourned from natural affection, and therefore her funeralexhibited merely the exterior trappings of sorrow.
Mannering, therefore, stood among this lugubrious company of cousins inthe third, fourth, fifth, and sixth degree, composing his countenance tothe 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, andas if in the chamber of a dying person.
'Our poor friend,' said one grave gentleman, scarcely opening his mouth,for fear of deranging the necessary solemnity of his features, andsliding his whisper from between his lips, which were as little unclosedas possible--'our poor friend has died well to pass in the world.'
'Nae doubt,' answered the person addressed, with half-closed eyes; 'poorMrs. 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 the auldleddy. But it's ill waiting for dead folk's shoon.'
'I am afraid,' said the politician, who was close by Mannering, 'we havenot done with your old friend Tippoo Sahib yet, I doubt he'll give theCompany more plague; and I am told, but you'll know for certain, thatEast India Stock is not rising.'
'I trust it will, sir, soon.'
'Mrs. Margaret,' said another person, mingling in the conversation, 'hadsome India bonds. I know that, for I drew the interest for her; it wouldbe desirable now f
or the trustees and legatees to have the Colonel'sadvice about the time and mode of converting them into money. For my partI think--but there's Mr. Mortcloke to tell us they are gaun to 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, however skilfula master of these lugubrious ceremonies, did not escape giving someoffence. To be related to Mrs. Bertram was to be of kin to the lands ofSingleside, and was a propinquity of which each relative present at thatmoment was particularly jealous. Some murmurs there were on the occasion,and our friend Dinmont gave more open offence, being unable either torepress his discontent or to utter it in the key properly modulated tothe solemnity. 'I think ye might hae at least gi'en me a leg o' her tocarry,' he exclaimed, in a voice considerably louder than proprietyadmitted. 'God! an it hadna been for the rigs o' land, I would hae gottenher a' to carry mysell, for as mony gentles as are 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, themselves thevery emblems of mortality, well cloaked and plumed, lugging along thehearse with its dismal emblazonry, crept in slow state towards the placeof interment, preceded by Jamie Duff, an idiot, who, with weepers andcravat made of white paper, attended on every funeral, and followed bysix mourning coaches, filled with the company. Many of these now gavemore 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, amid thegaping of two or three dozen of idle women with infants in their arms,and accompanied by some twenty children, who ran gambolling and screamingalongside of the sable procession, they finally arrived at theburial-place of the Singleside family. This was a square enclosure in theGreyfriars churchyard, guarded on one side by a veteran angel without anose, and having only one wing, who had the merit of having maintainedhis post for a century, while his comrade cherub, who had stood sentinelon the corresponding pedestal, lay a broken trunk among the hemlock,burdock, and nettles which grew in gigantic luxuriance around the wallsof the mausoleum. A moss-grown and broken inscription informed the readerthat in the year 1650 Captain Andrew Bertram, first of Singleside,descended of the very ancient and honourable house of Ellangowan, hadcaused this monument to be erected for himself and his descendants. Areasonable number of scythes and hour-glasses, and death's heads andcross-bones, garnished the following sprig of sepulchral poetry to thememory of the founder of the mausoleum:--
Nathaniel's heart, Bezaleel's hand If ever any had, These boldly do I sayhad 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, likesoldiers returning from a military funeral, the nearest relations whomight be interested in the settlements of the lady urged the dog-cattleof the hackney coaches to all the speed of which they were capable, inorder to put an end to farther suspense on that interesting topic.