Mortality


by Sir Walter Scott


Volume I.



EDITOR'S INTRODUCTION TO OLD MORTALITY.

The origin of "Old Mortality," perhaps the best of Scott's historical
romances, is well known. In May, 1816, Mr. Joseph Train, the gauger from
Galloway, breakfasted with Scott in Castle Street. He brought gifts in
his hand,--a relic of Rob Roy, and a parcel of traditions. Among these
was a letter from Mr. Broadfoot, schoolmaster in Pennington, who
facetiously signed himself "Clashbottom." To cleish, or clash, is to
"flog," in Scots. From Mr. Broadfoot's joke arose Jedediah Cleishbotham,
the dominie of Gandercleugh; the real place of Broadfoot's revels was the
Shoulder of Mutton Inn, at Newton Stewart. Mr. Train, much pleased with
the antiques in "the den" of Castle Street, was particularly charmed by
that portrait of Claverhouse which now hangs on the staircase of the
study at Abbotsford. Scott expressed the Cavalier opinions about Dundee,
which were new to Mr. Train, who had been bred in the rural tradition of
"Bloody Claver'se."

[The Editor's first acquaintance with Claverhouse was obtained
through an old nurse, who had lived on a farm beside a burn where,
she said, the skulls of Covenanters shot by Bloody Claver'se were
still occasionally found. The stream was a tributary of the
Ettrick.]

"Might he not," asked Mr. Train, "be made, in good hands, the hero of a
national romance as interesting as any about either Wallace or Prince
Charlie?" He suggested that the story should be delivered "as if from the
mouth of Old Mortality." This probably recalled to Scott his own meeting
with Old Mortality in Dunnottar Churchyard, as described in the
Introduction to the novel.

The account of the pilgrim, as given by Sir Walter from Mr. Train's
memoranda, needs no addition. About Old Mortality's son, John, who went
to America in 1776 (? 1774), and settled in Baltimore, a curious romantic
myth has gathered. Mr. Train told Scott more, as his manuscript at
Abbotsford shows, than Scott printed. According to Mr. Train, John
Paterson, of Baltimore, had a son Robert and a daughter Elizabeth. Robert
married an American lady, who, after his decease, was married to the
Marquis of Wellesley. Elizabeth married Jerome Bonaparte! Sir Walter
distrusted these legends, though derived from a Scotch descendant of Old
Mortality. Mr. Ramage, in March, 1871, wrote to "Notes and Queries"
dispelling the myth.

According to Jerome Bonaparte's descendant, Madame Bonaparte, her family
were Pattersons, not Patersons. Her Baltimore ancestor's will is extant,
has been examined by Old Mortality's great-grandson, and announces in a
kind of preamble that the testator was a native of Donegal; his Christian
name was William ("Notes and Queries," Fourth Series, vol. vii. p. 219,
and Fifth Series, August, 1874). This, of course, quite settles the
question; but the legend is still current among American descendants of
the old Roxburghshire wanderer.

"Old Mortality," with its companion, "The Black Dwarf," was published on
December 1, 1816, by Mr. Murray in London, and Mr. Blackwood in
Edinburgh.

The name of "The Author of 'Waverley'" was omitted on the title-page. The
reason for a change of publisher may have been chiefly financial
(Lockhart, v. 152). Scott may have also thought it amusing to appear as
his own rival in a new field. He had not yet told his secret to Lady
Abercorn, but he seems to reveal it (for who but he could have known so
much about the subject?) in a letter to her, of November 29, 1816. "You
must know the Marquis well,--or rather you must be the Marquis himself!"
quoth Dalgetty. Here follow portions of the letter:

I do not like the first story, "The Black Dwarf," at all; but the
long one which occupies three volumes is a most remarkable
production. . . . I should like to know if you are of my opinion as
to these new volumes coming from the same hand. . . . I wander about
from nine in the morning till five at night with a plaid about my
shoulders and an immensely large bloodhound at my heels, and stick
in sprigs which are to become trees when I shall have no eyes to
look at them. . . .

I am truly glad that the Tales have amused you. In my poor opinion
they are the best of the four sets, though perhaps I only think so
on account of their opening ground less familiar to me than the
manners of the Highlanders. . . . If Tom--[His brother, Mr. Thomas
Scott.]--wrote those volumes, he has not put me in his secret. . . .
General rumour here attributes them to a very ingenious but most
unhappy man, a clergyman of the Church of Scotland, who, many years
since, was obliged to retire from his profession, and from society,
who hides himself under a borrowed name. This hypothesis seems to
account satisfactorily for the rigid secrecy observed; but from what
I can recollect of the unfortunate individual, these are not the
kind of productions I should expect from him. Burley, if I mistake
not, was on board the Prince of Orange's own vessel at the time of
his death. There was also in the Life Guards such a person as
Francis Stewart, grandson of the last Earl of Bothwell. I have in my
possession various proceedings at his father's instance for
recovering some part of the Earl's large estates which had been
granted to the Earls of Buccleugh and Roxburgh. It would appear that
Charles I. made some attempts to reinstate him in those lands, but,
like most of that poor monarch's measures, the attempt only served
to augment his own enemies, for Buccleugh was one of the first who
declared against him in Scotland, and raised a regiment of twelve
hundred men, of whom my grandfather's grandfather (Sir William Scott
of Harden) was lieutenant-colonel. This regiment was very active at
the destruction of Montrose's Highland army at Philiphaugh. In
Charles the Second's time the old knight suffered as much through
the nonconformity of his wife as Cuddie through that of his mother.
My father's grandmother, who lived to the uncommon age of
ninety-eight years, perfectly remembered being carried, when a
child, to the field-preachings, where the clergyman thundered from
the top of a rock, and the ladies sat upon their side-saddles, which
were placed upon the turf for their accommodation, while the men
stood round, all armed with swords and pistols. . . . Old Mortality
was a living person; I have myself seen him about twenty years ago
repairing the Covenanters' tombs as far north as Dunnottar.

If Lady Abercorn was in any doubt after this ingenuous communication, Mr.
Murray, the publisher, was in none. (Lockhart, v. 169.) He wrote to Scott
on December 14, 1816, rejoicing in the success of the Tales, "which must
be written either by Walter Scott or the Devil. . . . I never experienced
such unmixed pleasure as the reading of this exquisite work has afforded
me; and if you could see me, as the author's literary chamberlain,
receiving the unanimous and vehement praises of those who have read it,
and the curses of those whose needs my scanty supply could not satisfy,
you might judge of the sincerity with which I now entreat you to assure
the Author of the most complete success." Lord Holland had said, when Mr.
Murray asked his opinion, "Opinion! We did not one of us go to bed last
night,--nothing slept but my gout."

The very Whigs were conquered. But not the Scottish Whigs, the Auld
Leaven of the Covenant,--they were still dour, and offered many
criticisms. Thereon Scott, by way of disproving his authorship, offered
to review the Tales in the "Quarterly." His true reason for this step was
the wish to reply to Dr. Thomas McCrie, author of the "Life of John
Knox," who had been criticising Scott's historical view of the Covenant,
in the "Edinburgh Christian Instructor." Scott had, perhaps, no better
mode of answering his censor. He was indifferent to reviews, but here his
historical knowledge and his candour had been challenged. Scott always
recognised the national spirit of the Covenanters, which he remarks on in
"The Heart of Mid-Lothian," and now he was treated as a faithless
Scotsman. For these reasons he reviewed himself; but it is probable, as
Lockhart says, that William Erskine wrote the literary or aesthetic part
of the criticism (Lockhart, v.174, note).

Dr. McCrie's review may be read, or at least may be found, in the fourth
volume of his collected works (Blackwood, Edinburgh 1857). The critique
amounts to about eighty-five thousand words. Since the "Princesse de
Cleves" was reviewed in a book as long as the original, never was so
lengthy a criticism. As Dr. McCrie's performance scarcely shares the
popularity of "Old Mortality," a note on his ideas may not be
superfluous, though space does not permit a complete statement of his
many objections. The Doctor begins by remarks on novels in general, then
descends to the earlier Waverley romances. "The Antiquary" he pronounces
to be "tame and fatiguing." Acknowledging the merits of the others, he
finds fault with "the foolish lines" (from Burns), "which must have been
foisted without the author's knowledge into the title page," and he
denounces the "bad taste" of the quotation from "Don Quixote." Burns and
Cervantes had done no harm to Dr. McCrie, but his anger was aroused, and
he, like the McCallum More as described by Andrew Fairservice, "got up
wi' an unto' bang, and garr'd them a' look about them." The view of the
Covenanters is "false and distorted." These worthies are not to be
"abused with profane wit or low buffoonery." "Prayers were not read in
the parish churches of Scotland" at that time. As Episcopacy was restored
when Charles II. returned "upon the unanimous petition of the Scottish
Parliament" (Scott's Collected Works, vol. xix. p. 78) it is not
unnatural for the general reader to suppose that prayers would be read by
the curates. Dr. McCrie maintains that "at the Restoration neither the
one nor the other" (neither the Scotch nor English Prayer Books) "was
imposed," and that the Presbyterians repeatedly "admitted they had no
such grievance." No doubt Dr. McCrie is correct. But Mr. James Guthrie,
who was executed on June 1, 1661, said in his last speech, "Oh that there
were not many who study to build again what they did formerly
unwarrantably destroy: I mean Prelacy and the Service Book, a mystery of
iniquity that works amongst us, whose steps lead unto the house of the
great Whore, Babylon, the mother of fornication," and so forth. Either
this mystery of iniquity, the Book of Common Prayer, "was working amongst
us," or it was not. If it was not, of what did Mr. Guthrie complain? If
it was "working," was read by certain curates, as by Burnet, afterwards
Bishop of Salisbury, at Saltoun, Scott is not incorrect. He makes Morton,
in danger of death, pray in the words of the Prayer Book, "a circumstance
which so enraged his murderers that they determined to precipitate his
fate." Dr. McCrie objects to this incident, which is merely borrowed, one
may conjecture, from the death of Archbishop Sharpe. The assassins told
the Archbishop that they would slay him. "Hereupon he began to think of
death. But (here are just the words of the person who related the story)
behold! God did not give him the grace to pray to Him without the help of
a book. But he pulled out of his pocket a small book, and began to read
over some words to himself, which filled us with amazement and
indignation." So they fired their pistols into the old man, and then
chopped him up with their swords, supposing that he had a charm against
bullets! Dr. McCrie seems to have forgotten, or may have disbelieved