WAVERLY NOVELS
ABBOTSFORD EDITION
THE WAVERLY NOVELS,
BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.
COMPLETE
IN TWELVE VOLUMES.
EMBRACING
THE AUTHOR'S LAST CORRECTIONS, PREFACES, AND NOTES.
VOL. XII.
COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS - CASTLE DANGEROUS -
MY AUNT MARGARET'S MIRROR, &c. &c.
Tales of my Landlord.
COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS.
The European with the Asian shore -
Sophia's cupola with golden gleam
The cypress groves - Olympus high and hoar -
The twelve isles, and the more than I could dream,
Far less describe, present the very view
That charm'd the charming Mary Montagu.
DON JUAN.
ADVERTISEMENT. - (1833.)
Sir Walter Scott transmitted from Naples, in February, 1832, an
Introduction for CASTLE DANGEROUS; but if he ever wrote one for a
second Edition of ROBERT OF PARIS, it has not been discovered among his
papers. Some notes, chiefly extracts from the books which he had been
observed to consult while _dictating_ this novel, are now appended
to its pages; and in addition to what the author had given in the shape
of historical information respecting the principal real persons
introduced, the reader is here presented with what may probably amuse
him, the passage of the Alexiad, in which Anna Comnena describes the
incident which originally, no doubt, determined Sir Walter's choice of
a hero.
May, A.D. 1097. - "As for the multitude of those who advanced towards
THE GREAT CITY, let it be enough to say that they were as the stars in
the heaven, or as the sand upon the sea-shore. They were, in the words
of Homer, _as many as the leaves and flowers of spring_. But for
the names of the leaders, though they are present in my memory, I will
not relate them. The numbers of these would alone deter me, even if my
language furnished the means of expressing their barbarous sounds; and
for what purpose should I afflict my readers with a long enumeration of
the names of those, whose visible presence gave so much horror to all
that beheld them?
"As soon, therefore, as they approached the Great City, they occupied
the station appointed for them by the Emperor, near to the monastery of
Cosmidius. But this multitude were not, like the Hellenic one of old,
to be restrained and governed by the loud voices of nine heralds; they
required the constant superintendence of chosen and valiant soldiers,
to keep them from violating the commands of the Emperor.
"He, meantime, laboured to obtain from the other leaders that
acknowledgment of his supreme authority, which had already been drawn
from Godfrey [Greek: Gontophre] himself. But, notwithstanding the
willingness of some to accede to this proposal, and their assistance in
working on the minds of their associates, the Emperor's endeavours had
little success, as the majority were looking for the arrival of
Bohemund [Greek: Baimontos], in whom they placed their chief confidence,
and resorted to every art with the view of gaining time. The Emperor,
whom it was not easy to deceive, penetrated their motives; and by
granting to one powerful person demands which had been supposed out of
all bounds of expectation, and by resorting to a variety of other
devices, he at length prevailed, and won general assent to the
following of the example of Godfrey, who also was sent for in person to
assist in this business.
"All, therefore, being assembled, and Godfrey among them, the oath was
taken; but when all was finished, a certain Noble among these Counts
had the audacity to seat himself on the throne of the Emperor. [Greek:
Tolmaesas tis apo panton ton komaeton eugenaes eis ton skimpoda ton
Basileos ekathisen.] The Emperor restrained himself and said nothing,
for he was well acquainted of old with the nature of the Latins.
"But the Count Baldwin [Greek: Baldoninos] stepping forth, and seizing
him by the hand, dragged him thence, and with many reproaches said, 'It
becomes thee not to do such things here, especially after having taken
the oath of fealty. [Greek: douleian haeposchomeno]. It is not the
custom of the Roman Emperors to permit any of their inferiors to sit
beside them, not even of such as are born subjects of their empire; and
it is necessary to respect the customs of the country.' But he,
answering nothing to Baldwin, stared yet more fixedly upon the Emperor,
and muttered to himself something in his own dialect, which, being
interpreted, was to this effect - 'Behold, what rustic fellow [Greek:
choritaes] is this, to be seated alone while such leaders stand around
him!' The movement of his lips did not escape the Emperor, who called
to him one that understood the Latin dialect, and enquired what words
the man had spoken. When he heard them, the Emperor said nothing to the
other Latins, but kept the thing to himself. When, however, the
business was all over, he called near to him by himself that swelling
and shameless Latin [Greek: hypsaelophrona ekeinon kai anaidae], and
asked of him, who he was, of what lineage, and from what region he had
come. 'I am a Frank,' said he, 'of pure blood, of the Nobles. One thing
I know, that where three roads meet in the place from which I came,
there is an ancient church, in which whosoever has the desire to
measure himself against another in single combat, prays God to help him
therein, and afterwards abides the coming of one willing to encounter
him. At that spot long time did I remain, but the man bold enough to
stand against me I found not.' Hearing these words the Emperor said,
'If hitherto thou hast sought battles in vain, the time is at hand
which will furnish thee with abundance of them. And I advise thee to
place thyself neither before the phalanx, nor in its rear, but to stand
fast in the midst of thy fellow-soldiers; for of old time I am well
acquainted with the warfare of the Turks.' With such advice he
dismissed not only this man, but the rest of those who were about to
depart on that expedition." - _Alexiad_, Book x. pp. 237, 238.
Ducange, as is mentioned in the novel, identifies the church, thus
described by the crusader, with that of _Our Lady of Soissons_, of
which a French poet of the days of Louis VII. says -
Veiller y vont encore li Pelerin
Cil qui bataille veulent fere et fournir.
DUCANGE _in Alexiad_, p. 86.
The Princess Anna Comnena, it may be proper to observe, was born on the
first of December, A.D. 1083, and was consequently in her fifteenth
year when the chiefs of the first crusade made their appearance in her
father's court. Even then, however, it is not improbable that she might
have been the wife of Nicephorus Bryennius, whom, many years after his
death, she speaks of in her history as [Greek: ton emon Kaisara], and
in other terms equally affectionate. The bitterness with which she
uniformly mentions Bohemund, Count of Tarentum, afterwards Prince of
Antioch, has, however, been ascribed to a disappointment in love; and
on one remarkable occasion, the Princess certainly expressed great
contempt of her husband. I am aware of no other authorities for the
liberties taken with this lady's conjugal character in the novel.
Her husband, Nicephorus Bryennius, was the grandson of the person of
that name, who figures in history as the rival, in a contest for the
imperial throne, of Nicephorus Botoniates. He was, on his marriage with
Anna Comnena, invested with the rank of _Panhypersebastos_, or
_Omnium Augustissimus_; but Alexius deeply offended him, by
afterwards recognising the superior and simpler dignity of a
_Sebastos_. His eminent qualities, both in peace and war, are
acknowledged by Gibbon: and he has left us four books of Memoirs,
detailing the early part of his father-in-law's history, and valuable
as being the work of an eye-witness of the most important events which
he describes. Anna Comnena appears to have considered it her duty to
take up the task which her husband had not lived to complete; and hence
the Alexiad - certainly, with all its defects, the first historical work
that has as yet proceeded from a female pen.
"The life of the Emperor Alexius," (says Gibbon,) "has been delineated
by the pen of a favourite daughter, who was inspired by tender regard
for his person, and a laudable zeal to perpetuate his virtues.
Conscious of the just suspicion of her readers, the Princess repeatedly
protests, that, besides her personal knowledge, she had searched the
discourses and writings of the most respectable veterans; and that
after an interval of thirty years, forgotten by, and forgetful of the
world, her mournful solitude was inaccessible to hope and fear: that
truth, the naked perfect truth, was more dear than the memory of her
parent. Yet instead of the simplicity of style and narrative which wins
our belief, an elaborate affectation of rhetoric and science betrays in
every page the vanity of a female author. The genuine character of
Alexius is lost in a vague constellation of virtues; and the perpetual
strain of panegyric and apology awakens our jealousy, to question the
veracity of the historian, and the merit of her hero. We cannot,
however, refuse her judicious and important remark, that the disorders
of the times were the misfortune and the glory of Alexius; and that
every calamity which can afflict a declining empire was accumulated on
his reign by the justice of Heaven and the vices of his predecessors.
In the east, the victorious Turks had spread, from Persia to the
Hellespont, the reign of the Koran and the Crescent; the west was
invaded by the adventurous valour of the Normans; and, in the moments
of peace, the Danube poured forth new swarms, who had gained in the
science of war what they had lost in the ferociousness of their manners.
The sea was not less hostile than the land; and, while the frontiers
were assaulted by an open enemy, the palace was distracted with secret
conspiracy and treason.
"On a sudden, the banner of the Cross was displayed by the Latins;
Europe was precipitated on Asia; and Constantinople had almost been
swept away by this impetuous deluge. In the tempest Alexius steered the
Imperial vessel with dexterity and courage. At the head of his armies,
he was bold in action, skilful in stratagem, patient of fatigue, ready
to improve his advantages, and rising from his defeats with
inexhaustible vigour. The discipline of the camp was reversed, and a
new generation of men and soldiers was created by the precepts and
example of their leader. In his intercourse with the Latins, Alexius
was patient and artful; his discerning eye pervaded the new system of
an unknown world.
"The increase of the male and female branches of his family adorned the
throne, and secured the succession; but their princely luxury and pride
offended the patricians, exhausted the revenue, and insulted the misery
of the people. Anna is a faithful witness that his happiness was
destroyed and his health broken by the cares of a public life; the
patience of Constantinople was fatigued by the length and severity of
his reign; and before Alexius expired, he had lost the love and
reverence of his subjects. The clergy could not forgive his application
of the sacred riches to the defence of the state; but they applauded
his theological learning, and ardent zeal for the orthodox faith, which
he defended with his tongue, his pen, and his sword. Even the sincerity
of his moral and religious virtues was suspected by the persons who had
passed their lives in his confidence. In his last hours, when he was
pressed by his wife Irene to alter the succession, he raised his head,
and breathed a pious ejaculation on the vanity of the world. The
indignant reply of the Empress may be inscribed as an epitaph on his
tomb, - 'You die, as you have lived - a hypocrite.'
"It was the wish of Irene to supplant the eldest of her sons in favour
of her daughter, the Princess Anna, whose philosophy would not have
refused the weight of a diadem. But the order of male succession was
asserted by the friends of their country; the lawful heir drew the
royal signet from the finger of his insensible or conscious father, and
the empire obeyed the master of the palace. Anna Comnena was stimulated
by ambition and revenge to conspire against the life of her brother;
and when the design was prevented by the fears or scruples of her
husband, she passionately exclaimed that nature had mistaken the two
sexes, and had endowed Bryennius with the soul of a woman. After the
discovery of her treason, the life and fortune of Anna were justly
forfeited to the laws. Her life was spared by the clemency of the
Emperor, but he visited the pomp and treasures of her palace, and
bestowed the rich confiscation on the most deserving of his friends." -
_History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire_, chap.
xlviii.
The year of Anna's death is nowhere recorded. She appears to have
written the _Alexiad_ in a convent; and to have spent nearly
thirty years in this retirement, before her book was published.
For accurate particulars of the public events touched on in _Robert
of Paris,_ the reader is referred to the above quoted author,
chapters xlviii. xlix. and l.; and to the first volume of Mills'
History of the Crusades.
J. G. L. London, _1st March_, 1833.
INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS.
JEDEDIAH CLEISHBOTHAM, A.M.
TO THE LOVING READER WISHETH HEALTH AND PROSPERITY.
It would ill become me, whose name has been spread abroad by those
former collections bearing this title of "Tales of my Landlord," and
who have, by the candid voice of a numerous crowd of readers, been
taught to think that I merit not the empty fame alone, but also the
more substantial rewards, of successful pencraft - it would, I say, ill
become me to suffer this my youngest literary babe, and, probably at
the same time, the last child of mine old age, to pass into the world
without some such modest apology for its defects, as it has been my
custom to put forth on preceding occasions of the like nature. The
world has been sufficiently instructed, of a truth, that I am not
individually the person to whom is to be ascribed the actual inventing
or designing of the scheme upon which these Tales, which men have found
so pleasing, were originally constructed, as also that neither am I the
actual workman, who, furnished by a skilful architect with an accurate
plan, including elevations and directions both general and particular,
has from thence toiled to bring forth and complete the intended shape
and proportion of each division of the edifice. Nevertheless, I have
been indisputably the man, who, in placing my name at the head of the
undertaking, have rendered myself mainly and principally responsible
for its general success. When a ship of war goeth forth to battle with
her crew, consisting of sundry foremast-men and various officers, such
subordinate persons are not said to gain or lose the vessel which they
have manned or attacked, (although each was natheless sufficiently
active in his own department;) but it is forthwith bruited and noised
abroad, without further phrase, that Captain Jedediah Cleishbotham hath
lost such a seventy-four, or won that which, by the united exertions of
all thereto pertaining, is taken from the enemy. In the same manner,
shame and sorrow it were, if I, the voluntary Captain and founder of
these adventures, after having upon three divers occasions assumed to
myself the emolument and reputation thereof, should now withdraw myself
from the risks of failure proper to this fourth and last out-going. No!
I will rather address my associates in this bottom with the constant
spirit of Matthew Prior's heroine:
"Did I but purpose to embark with thee
On the smooth surface of some summer sea,
But would forsake the waves, and make the shore,
When the winds whistle, and the billows roar!"
As little, nevertheless, would it become my years and station not to
admit without cavil certain errors which may justly be pointed out in
these concluding "Tales of my Landlord," - the last, and, it is manifest,
never carefully revised or corrected handiwork, of Mr. Peter Pattison,
now no more; the same worthy young man so repeatedly mentioned in these
Introductory Essays, and never without that tribute to his good sense
and talents, nay, even genius, which his contributions to this my
undertaking fairly entitled him to claim at the hands of his surviving
friend and patron. These pages, I have said, were the _ultimus
labor_ of mine ingenious assistant; but I say not, as the great Dr.
Pitcairn of his hero - _ultimus atque optitmis_. Alas! even the
giddiness attendant on a journey on this Manchester rail-road is not so
perilous to the nerves, as that too frequent exercise in the merry-go-
round of the ideal world, whereof the tendency to render the fancy
confused, and the judgment inert, hath in all ages been noted, not only
by the erudite of the earth, but even by many of the thick-witted
Ofelli themselves; whether the rapid pace at which the fancy moveth in
such exercitations, where the wish of the penman is to him like Prince
Houssain's tapestry, in the Eastern fable, be the chief source of
peril - or whether, without reference to this wearing speed of movement,
and dwelling habitually in those realms of imagination, be as little
suited for a man's intellect, as to breathe for any considerable space
"the difficult air of the mountain top" is to the physical structure of
his outward frame - this question belongeth not to me; but certain it is,
that we often discover in the works of the foremost of this order of
men, marks of bewilderment and confusion, such as do not so frequently
occur in those of persons to whom nature hath conceded fancy weaker of
wing, or less ambitious in flight.
It is affecting to see the great Miguel Cervantes himself, even like
the sons of meaner men, defending himself against the critics of the
day, who assailed him upon such little discrepancies and inaccuracies
as are apt to cloud the progress even of a mind like his, when the
evening is closing around it. "It is quite a common thing," says Don
Quixote, "for men who have gained a very great reputation by their
writings before they were printed, quite to lose it afterwards, or, at
least, the greater part." - "The reason is plain," answers the Bachelor
Carrasco; "their faults are more easily discovered after the books are
printed, as being then more read, and more narrowly examined,
especially if the author has been much cried up before, for then the
severity of the scrutiny is sure to be the greater. Those who have
raised themselves a name by their own ingenuity, great poets and
celebrated historians, are commonly, if not always, envied by a set of
men who delight in censuring the writings of others, though they could
never produce any of their own." - "That is no wonder," quoth Don
Quixote; "there are many divines that would make but very dull
preachers, and yet are quick enough at finding faults and superfluities
in other men's sermons." - "All this is true," says Carrasco, "and
therefore I could wish such censurers would be more merciful and less
scrupulous, and not dwell ungenerously upon small spots that are in a
manner but so many atoms on the face of the clear sun they murmur at.
If _aliquando dormitat Homerus_, let them consider how many nights
he kept himself awake to bring his noble works to light as little
darkened with defects as might be. But, indeed, it may many times
happen, that what is censured for a fault, is rather an ornament, as
moles often add to the beauty of a face. When all is said, he that
publishes a book, runs a great risk, since nothing can be so unlikely
as that he should have composed one capable of securing the approbation
of every reader." - "Sure," says Don Quixote, "that which treats of me
can have pleased but few?" - "Quite the contrary," says Carrasco; "for
as _infinitus est numerus stultorum_, so an infinite number have
admired your history. Only some there are who have taxed the author
with want of memory or sincerity, because he forgot to give an account
who it was that stole Sancho's Dapple, for that particular is not
mentioned there, only we find, by the story, that it was stolen; and
yet, by and by, we find him riding the same ass again, without any
previous light given us into the matter. Then they say that the author
forgot to tell the reader what Sancho did with the hundred pieces of
gold he found in the portmanteau in the Sierra Morena, for there is not
a word said of them more; and many people have a great mind to know
what he did with them, and how he spent them; which is one of the most
material points in which the work is defective."
How amusingly Sancho is made to clear up the obscurities thus alluded
to by the Bachelor Carrasco - no reader can have forgotten; but there
remained enough of similar _lacunas_, inadvertencies, and mistakes,
to exercise the ingenuity of those Spanish critics, who were too wise
in their own conceit to profit by the good-natured and modest apology
of this immortal author.
There can be no doubt, that if Cervantes had deigned to use it, he
might have pleaded also the apology of indifferent health, under which
he certainly laboured while finishing the second part of "Don Quixote."
It must be too obvious that the intervals of such a malady as then
affected Cervantes, could not be the most favourable in the world for
revising lighter compositions, and correcting, at least, those grosser
errors and imperfections which each author should, if it were but for
shame's sake, remove from his work, before bringing it forth into the
broad light of day, where they will never fail to be distinctly seen,
nor lack ingenious persons, who will be too happy in discharging the
office of pointing them out.
It is more than time to explain with what purpose we have called thus
fully to memory the many venial errors of the inimitable Cervantes, and
those passages in which he has rather defied his adversaries than
pleaded his own justification; for I suppose it will be readily granted,
that the difference is too wide betwixt that great wit of Spain and
ourselves, to permit us to use a buckler which was rendered
sufficiently formidable only by the strenuous hand in which it was
placed.
The history of my first publications is sufficiently well known. Nor
did I relinquish the purpose of concluding these "Tales of my
Landlord," which had been so remarkably fortunate; but Death, which
steals upon us all with an inaudible foot, cut short the ingenious
young man to whose memory I composed that inscription, and erected, at
my own charge, that monument which protects his remains, by the side of
the river Gander, which he has contributed so much to render immortal,
and in a place of his own selection, not very distant from the school
under my care. [Footnote: See Vol. II. of the present Edition, for some
circumstances attending this erection.] In a word, the ingenious Mr.
Pattison was removed from his place.
Nor did I confine my care to his posthumous fame alone, but carefully
inventoried and preserved the effects which he left behind him, namely,
the contents of his small wardrobe, and a number of printed books of
somewhat more consequence, together with certain, wofully blurred
manuscripts, discovered in his repository. On looking these over, I
found them to contain two Tales called "Count Robert of Paris," and
"Castle Dangerous;" but was seriously disappointed to perceive that
they were by no means in that state of correctness, which would induce
an experienced person to pronounce any writing, in the technical
language of bookcraft, "prepared for press." There were not only
_hiatus valde deflendi_, but even grievous inconsistencies, and
other mistakes, which the penman's leisurely revision, had he been
spared to bestow it, would doubtless have cleared away. After a
considerate perusal, I no question flattered myself that these
manuscripts, with all their faults, contained here and there passages,
which seemed plainly to intimate that severe indisposition had been
unable to extinguish altogether the brilliancy of that fancy which the
world had been pleased to acknowledge in the creations of Old Mortality,
the Bride of Lammermoor, and others of these narratives. But I,
nevertheless, threw the manuscripts into my drawer, resolving not to
think of committing them to the Ballantynian ordeal, until I could
either obtain the assistance of some capable person to supply
deficiencies, and correct errors, so as they might face the public with
credit, or perhaps numerous and more serious avocations might permit me
to dedicate my own time and labour to that task.
While I was in this uncertainty, I had a visit from a stranger, who was
announced as a young gentleman desirous of speaking with me on
particular business. I immediately augured the accession of a new
boarder, but was at once checked by observing that the outward man of
the stranger was, in a most remarkable degree, what mine host of the
Sir William Wallace, in his phraseology, calls _seedy_. His black
cloak had seen service; the waistcoat of grey plaid bore yet stronger
marks of having encountered more than one campaign; his third piece of
dress was an absolute veteran compared to the others; his shoes were so
loaded with mud as showed his journey must have been pedestrian; and a
grey _maud_, which fluttered around his wasted limbs, completed
such an equipment as, since Juvenal's days, has been the livery of the
poor scholar. I therefore concluded that I beheld a candidate for the
vacant office of usher, and prepared to listen to his proposals with
the dignity becoming my station; but what was my surprise when I found
I had before me, in this rusty student, no less a man than Paul, the
brother of Peter Pattison, come to gather in his brother's succession,
and possessed, it seemed, with no small idea of the value of that part
of it which consisted in the productions of his pen!
By the rapid study I made of him, this Paul was a sharp lad, imbued
with some tincture of letters, like his regretted brother, but totally
destitute of those amiable qualities which had often induced me to say
within myself, that Peter was, like the famous John Gay, -
"In wit a man, simplicity a child."
He set little by the legacy of my deceased assistant's wardrobe, nor
did the books hold much greater value in his eyes: but he peremptorily
demanded to be put in possession of the manuscripts, alleging, with
obstinacy, that no definite bargain had been completed between his late
brother and me, and at length produced the opinion to that effect of a
writer, or man of business, - a class of persons with whom I have always
chosen to have as little concern as possible.
But I had one defence left, which came to my aid, _tanquam deus ex
machina_. This rapacious Paul Pattison could not pretend to wrest
the disputed manuscripts out of my possession, unless upon repayment of
a considerable sum of money, which I had advanced from time to time to
the deceased Peter, and particularly to purchase a small annuity for
his aged mother. These advances, with the charges of the funeral and
other expenses, amounted to a considerable sum, which the poverty-
struck student and his acute legal adviser equally foresaw great
difficulty in liquidating. The said Mr. Paul Pattison, therefore,
listened to a suggestion, which I dropped as if by accident, that if he
thought himself capable of filling his brother's place of carrying the
work through the press, I would make him welcome to bed and board
within my mansion while he was thus engaged, only requiring his
occasional assistance at hearing the more advanced scholars. This
seemed to promise a close of our dispute, alike satisfactory to all
parties, and the first act of Paul was to draw on me for a round sum,
under pretence that his wardrobe must be wholly refitted. To this I
made no objection, though it certainly showed like vanity to purchase
garments in the extremity of the mode, when not only great part of the
defunct's habiliments were very fit for a twelvemonth's use, but as I
myself had been, but yesterday as it were, equipped in a becoming new
stand of black clothes, Mr. Pattison would have been welcome to the use
of such of my quondam raiment as he thought suitable, as indeed had
always been the case with his deceased brother.
The school, I must needs say, came tolerably on. My youngster was very
smart, and seemed to be so active in his duty of usher, if I may so
speak, that he even overdid his part therein, and I began to feel
myself a cipher in my own school.
I comforted myself with the belief that the publication was advancing
as fast as I could desire. On this subject, Paul Pattison, like ancient
Pistol, "talked bold words at the bridge," and that not only at our
house, but in the society of our neighbours, amongst whom, instead of
imitating the retired and monastic manner of his brother deceased, he
became a gay visitor, and such a reveller, that in process of time he
was observed to vilipend the modest fare which had at first been
esteemed a banquet by his hungry appetite, and thereby highly
displeased my wife, who, with justice, applauds herself for the
plentiful, cleanly, and healthy victuals, wherewith she maintains her
ushers and boarders.
Upon the whole, I rather hoped than entertained a sincere confidence
that all was going on well, and was in that unpleasant state of mind
which precedes the open breach between two associates who have been
long jealous of each other, but are as yet deterred by a sense of
mutual interest from coming to an open rupture.
The first thing which alarmed me was a rumour in the village, that Paul
Pattison intended, in some little space, to undertake a voyage to the
Continent - on account of his health, as was pretended, but, as the same
report averred, much more with the view of gratifying the curiosity
which his perusal of the classics had impressed upon him, than for any
other purpose. I was, I say, rather alarmed at this _susurrus_,
and began to reflect that the retirement of Mr. Pattison, unless his
loss could be supplied in good time, was like to be a blow to the
establishment; for, in truth, this Paul had a winning way with the boys,
especially those who were gentle-tempered; so that I must confess my
doubts whether, in certain respects, I myself could have fully supplied
his place in the school, with all my authority and experience. My wife,
jealous as became her station, of Mr. Pattison's intentions, advised me
to take the matter up immediately, and go to the bottom at once; and,
indeed, I had always found that way answered best with my boys.
Mrs. Cleishbotham was not long before renewing the subject; for, like
most of the race of Xantippe, (though my help-mate is a well-spoken
woman,) she loves to thrust in her oar where she is not able to pull it
to purpose. "You are a sharp-witted man, Mr. Cleishbotham," would she
observe, "and a learned man, Mr. Cleishbotham - and the schoolmaster of
Gandercleuch, Mr. Cleishbotham, which is saying all in one word; but
many a man almost as great as yourself has lost the saddle by suffering
an inferior to get up behind him' and though, with the world, Mr.
Cleishbotham, you have the name of doing every thing, both in directing
the school and in this new profitable book line which you have taken up,
yet it begins to be the common talk of Gandercleuch, both up the water
and down the water, that the usher both writes the dominie's books and
teaches the dominie's school. Ay, ay, ask maid, wife, or widow, and
she'll tell ye, the least gaitling among them all comes to Paul
Pattison with his lesson as naturally as they come to me for their
four-hours, puir things; and never ane things of applying to you aboot
a kittle turn or a crabbed word, or about ony thing else, unless it
were for _licet exire_, or the mending of an auld pen."
Now this address assailed me on a summer evening, when I was whiling
away my leisure hours with the end of a cutty pipe and indulging in
such bland imaginations as the Nicotian weed is wont to produce, more
especially in the case of the studious persons, devoted _musis
severioribus_. I was naturally loth to leave my misty sanctuary; and
endeavoured to silence the clamour of Mrs. Cleishbotham's tongue, which
has something in it peculiarly shrill and penetrating. "Woman," said I
with a tone of domestic authority befitting the occasion, "_res tuas
agas_; - mind your washings and your wringings, your stuffings and
your physicking, or whatever concerns the outward persons of the pupils,
and leave the progress of their education to my usher, Paul Pattison,
and myself."
"I am glad to see," added the accursed woman, (that I should say so!)
"that ye have the grace to name him foremost, for there is little doubt,
that he ranks first of the troop, if ye wad but hear what the
neighbours speak - or whisper."
"What do they whisper, thou sworn sister of the Eumenides?" cried I, -
the irritating _aestrum_ of the woman's objurgation totally
counterbalancing the sedative effects both of pipe and pot.
"Whisper?" resumed she in her shrillest note - "why, they whisper loud
enough for me at least to hear them, that the schoolmaster of
Gandercleuch is turned a doited auld woman, and spends all his time in
tippling strong drink with the keeper of the public-house, and leaves
school and book-making, and a' the rost o't, to the care of his usher;
and, also, the wives in Gandercleuch say, that you have engaged Paul
Pattison to write a new book, which is to beat a' the lave that gaed
afore it; and to show what a sair lift you have o' the job, you didna
sae muckle as ken the name o't - no nor whether it was to be about some
Heathen Greek, or the Black Douglas."
This was said with such bitterness that it penetrated to the very quick,
and I hurled the poor old pipe, like one of Homer's spears, not in the
face of my provoking helpmate, though the temptation was strong, but
into the river Gander, which as is now well known to tourists from the
uttermost parts of the earth, pursues its quiet meanders beneath the
bank on which the school-house is pleasantly situated; and, starting up,
fixed on my head the cocked hat, (the pride of Messrs. Grieve and
Scott's repository,) and plunging into the valley of the brook, pursued
my way upwards, the voice of Mrs. Cleishbotham accompanying me in my
retreat with something like the angry scream of triumph with which the
brood-goose pursues the flight of some unmannerly cur or idle boy who
has intruded upon her premises, and fled before her. Indeed, so great
was the influence of this clamour of scorn and wrath which hung upon my
rear, that while it rung in my ears I was so moved that I instinctively
tucked the skirts of my black coat under my arm, as if I had been in
actual danger of being seized on by the grasp of the pursuing enemy.
Nor was it till I had almost reached the well-known burial-place, in
which it was Peter Pattison's hap to meet the far-famed personage
called Old Mortality, that I made a halt for the purpose of composing
my perturbed spirits, and considering what was to be done; for as yet
my mind was agitated by a chaos of passions, of which anger was
predominant; and for what reason, or against whom, I entertained such
tumultuous displeasure, it was not easy for me to determine.
Nevertheless, having settled my cocked hat with becoming accuracy on my
well-powdered wig, and suffered it to remain uplifted for a moment to
cool my flushed brow - having, moreover, re-adjusted and shaken to
rights the skirts of my black coat, I came into case to answer to my
own questions, which, till these manoeuvres had been sedately
accomplished, I might have asked myself in vain.
In the first place, therefore, to use the phrase of Mr. Docket, the
writer (that is, the attorney) of our village of Gandercleuch, I became
satisfied that my anger was directed against all and sundry, or, in law
Latin, _contre omnes mortales_, and more particularly against the
neighbourhood of Gandercleuch, for circulating reports to the prejudice
of my literary talents, as well as my accomplishments as a pedagogue,
and transferring the fame thereof to mine own usher. Secondly, against
my spouse, Dorothea Cleishbotham, for transferring the sad calumnious
reports to my ears in a prerupt and unseemly manner, and without due
respect either to the language which she made use of, or the person to
whom she spoke, - treating affairs in which I was so intimately
concerned as if they were proper subjects for jest among gossips at a
christening, where the womankind claim the privilege of worshipping the
_Bona Dea_ according to their secret female rites.
Thirdly, I became clear that I was entitled to respond to any whom it
concerned to enquire, that my wrath was kindled against Paul Pattison,
my usher, for giving occasion both for the neighbours of Gandercleuch
entertaining such opinions, and for Mrs. Cleishbotham disrespectfully
urging them to my face, since neither circumstance could have existed,
without he had put forth sinful misrepresentations of transactions,
private and confidential, and of which I had myself entirely refrained
from dropping any the least hint to any third person.
This arrangement of my ideas having contributed to soothe the stormy
atmosphere of which they had been the offspring, gave reason a time to
predominate, and to ask me, with her calm but clear voice, whether,
under all the circumstances, I did well to nourish so indiscriminate an
indignation? In fine, on closer examination, the various splenetic
thoughts I had been indulging against other parties, began to be merged
in that resentment against my perfidious usher, which, like the serpent
of Moses, swallowed up all subordinate objects of displeasure. To put
myself at open feud with the whole of my neighbours, unless I had been
certain of some effectual mode of avenging myself upon them, would have
been an undertaking too weighty for my means, and not unlikely, if
rashly grappled withal, to end in my ruin. To make a public quarrel
with my wife, on such an account as her opinion of my literary
accomplishments, would sound ridiculous: and, besides, Mrs. C. was sure
to have all the women on her side, who would represent her as a wife
persecuted by her husband for offering him good advice, and urging it
upon him with only too enthusiastic sincerity.
There remained Paul Pattison, undoubtedly, the most natural and proper
object of my indignation, since I might be said to have him in my own
power, and might punish him by dismissal, at my pleasure. Yet even
vindictive proceedings against the said Paul, however easy to be
enforced, might be productive of serious consequences to my own purse;
and I began to reflect, with anxiety, that in this world it is not
often that the gratification of our angry passions lies in the same
road with the advancement of our interest, and that the wise man, the
_vere sapiens_, seldom hesitates which of these two he ought to
prefer.
I recollected also that I was quite uncertain how far the present usher
had really been guilty of the foul acts of assumption charged against
him.
In a word, I began to perceive that it would be no light matter, at
once, and without maturer perpending of sundry collateral