The Book-Hunter - John Hill Burton (13 ebook reader .TXT) 📗
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Dr Burton, by way of setting a good example to his family, who continued to lament the loss of Craighouse, attached himself excessively to Morton. He was farther attached to it by the recollection of having been Mrs Cunningham's guest there. It was one of the very few houses at which he occasionally dined after he went to Craighouse. Soon after he had gone to Craighouse, he formed a resolution against dining out in the town. His neighbours in the country were so few that he had no reason to dread too frequent invitations from them; and he occasionally dined, as has been said, with Mrs Cunningham at Morton, and with his nearest neighbour, equally at Craighouse as at Morton, Mr John Skelton, at the beautiful Hermitage of Braid. Dr Burton was generally invited by the latter to meet his distinguished friend, the historian, Mr Anthony Froude. He may during these years have been once or twice a guest at Colinton House, then inhabited by Lord Dunfermline, and as often at Bonally, the house of his old friend the late Professor Hodgson. During his residence at Morton, Dr Burton and his family dined with their neighbours, Mr and Mrs Stevenson, at Swanston Cottage, once. On one occasion he was persuaded to actually drive with his wife as far as Duddingston, where he dined and enjoyed a pleasant summer evening with Professor and Mrs Laurie and their family. Once he went still farther and dined with his old friend Mr Jenner, at Easter Duddingston. Mr Jenner and he had been associated with Lord Murray, Angus Fletcher, and others, in the foundation of the First Ragged School, as it was then called, in Edinburgh, and had remained friends ever since. On the Committee of the Ragged School splitting up on the question of religious instruction, all the gentlemen named had espoused the principle carried out in the United Industrial School—that of combined secular and separate religious instruction.
With these exceptions, and that of a very few visitors at home, the life at Morton was entirely domestic. During the whole of his three years' stay at Morton, Dr Burton always hoped to induce the remains of his circle of old friends to dine with him once more. They had become few indeed—were limited to Professor Blackie and Dr John Brown. He never succeeded in persuading these gentlemen to come. Insuperable difficulties on one side or other always intervened. During these three years there never was any social gathering at Morton except entertainments which Dr Burton's family gave to the country people, and which sometimes included a few young friends as assistants. Dr Burton was no longer called on to visit his office daily. To attend the Board meetings once a-week was sufficient.
As soon as he had finished his 'History of Scotland' in 1870, he conceived the project of writing a 'History of the Reign of Queen Anne.' It was an ambitious attempt. Lord Macaulay's too early death had prevented his performing the task, and Mr Thackeray was understood to have contemplated it, but to have shrunk from its vastness. Dr Burton had been collecting material for this work in all his summer tours during the past ten years, and in all his visits to the British Museum while in London. He had written a great part of it before he was interrupted by his illness in the end of '77, and the removal from Craighouse early in '78. The most marked change in Dr Burton after that illness was in his impaired power of mental application. His general health was good, even strong; he still enjoyed long rambles with his sons, and walked to town and back at his former rapid rate; but now that he had no longer any office work, now that he might sit and read or write all day if he would, he did not do so. Instead of, as formerly, resenting all interruption while engaged in his library, he seemed to seek every excuse for leaving it and his literary occupation. Though not rising earlier than formerly, he would go to bed comparatively early, and several times a-day would propose to his wife to go to visit her flowers, to do a little gardening, to go and feed the fowls—in short, to share in any little diversion going.
A visit of the writer's to her sister in Argyleshire gave occasion for the following notes on ballad-lore, in which Major Mackay of Carskey, Mrs Burton's brother-in-law, was also strong:—
"Morton, 2d May 1879.
"My dear Love,—I recollect having come across the ballad incident you mention upwards of fifty years ago, when I was zealous in ballad-lore. If it had been in one of those accepted as genuine and poetical I would have remembered the ballad, but my impression is that it was condemned as a fabrication for this and other neologies. The button is not a conspicuous item of female attire as of the male, and Shakespeare has been attacked for the vulgarity of even making Lear say, 'Prithee, undo this button,' though I think it fine.
"If the Major is curious in ballad-lore, I can give him abundant information in it. For the musical item, the best collection I know is Motherwell's, both for good poetic taste in selection, and the tunes accompanying some of the contents....—Your affectionate
"J.H. Burton."
"Morton, Wednesday Evening,
8th May 1879.
"My dear Love,—Looking for the ballad you want, and not finding it by recollection, I came by accident to the very line—
The tenants a' cam' her to see;
Never a word she could speak to them,
But the buttons aff her claes would flee.'
The ballad is known by the title of The Marchioness of Douglas, but better known by the—
And waly, waly, doon yon brae.'
It was printed first in Jamieson's collection—1806; again in Chambers's, p. 150. The 'waly' has been by Cockney critics called Scotch for 'wail ye.' The word may come from the same etymological source as 'wail,' but it is a Scots adverb, indicative of the intensity of sorrow.
"It will be hard to find any one who is my master in ballad-lore (though other things have of late taken the preponderance). My services in the cause are certified by Robert Chambers in his collection, published in 1829—fifty years ago.
"I had then collected several versions from old people in Aberdeenshire. While writing this it dawns on my recollection that I lost the bulk of the collection, and that some years ago I got a letter from America, written by some one publishing Scots ballads, asking me to help him. Making a search for any remnant of the old collection, I found one ballad only, and sent it. Then came the odd conclusion—he had the rest of the collection, as he found by comparison of handwriting.
"This little affair coming in upon others of so much more moment to me—I can't tell exactly how many years ago—was forgotten utterly until your inquiry about the 'buttons' brought it up. When I am through with 'Queen Anne' I may look back on it and other trifles....
"I do not think I have any news for you. Mary says the violet roots were sent on Monday.—Your affectionate
"J.H. Burton."
In the summer of 1879 Dr Burton went abroad for the last time, for the purpose of tracing the course of Marlborough's campaigns. From his daily letters home a few passages may be selected:—
"Mons, 18th June 1879.
"My dear Will,—I think you may well write to Ratisbon after receiving this.
"I leave the Low Country when I have completed my inquiries.
"What little remains belongs to the Danube district, which I shall haunt for the remainder of my time. It got its name because the Romans found it a ratis-bona, or good pier for crossing. It is by the Germans called Regensberg, or the town of rain.—N.B. I went through the old Scots College there when its inmates had been driven out, and the only article I found left behind was a large umbrella. After three days' cessation the thunder and torrents have returned yesterday. I walked three hours in rain, which soused me, and then I had as long of sunshine to dry me, and arrived in very comfortable condition, but I had been starved and was afraid to make up by a heavy supper; I had consequently, after a long sleep, such an appetite, that though I had breakfast, I joined the table d'hôte dinner at one o'clock.
"Yesterday and the day before I went over the marching grounds of our army in 1709, especially the battle-field of Malplaquet. If you look into any of the histories of the period, or lives of Marlborough in the library, you will see all about it. They are concentrated in the room which I latterly used, and are concentrated opposite to the fireplace.
"I have had extreme interest in pursuing my inquiries, yet don't I long to go about in some country where one can get a drink of pure water by the roadside, such as you and I have enjoyed on occasion. The country people only get it in deep draw-wells. They have plenty of water for their agriculture—too much; it is like the Ancient Mariner's complaint—'Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink.' The peasantry are amply provided with brandy. I passed yesterday about thirty houses where they get it for two sous, not quite a penny a glass. I wonder all your friends at Brown Brothers' do not swarm to such a land....
"I have no doubt everything is beautiful, I hope also fruitful, about Morton. I feel sure of one thing, that mamma has abundance of her favourite flowers.—Love to all from your affectionate papa, J.H. Burton."
"Regensberg, 21st June 1879.
"My dear Love,—I have but a scrap of paper available....
"Fine weather at last. Eating cherries. Last night I got a comfortable sleep for nothing. For reasons good no doubt, but unknown, the train stopped from 9 p.m. to 5 a.m., at a country station. I lay on a bench, with my head on my small bag, and never had a sounder sleep.—Your affectionate
J.H. Burton."
"Donauwörth, 27th June 1879.
"My dear Cos,—This afternoon I expect to be at Blenheim, and so at the farthest limits of my battle-fields. I spoke of not going to the Alps, in consideration of the depressing of our neighbours the Pentlands; but being so close to them, I can't resist a step farther, and then the Pentlands are not so very ill used, for they are put much on a level with the Grampians. At the beginning of next week I expect to be moving homewards, and I still think, as I wrote to mamma, the last place to catch me at, before taking to the water, is Antwerp.
"This is a very fishy place, not of the Danube rolling majestically not many yards from where I am writing, but of the sea. The inn I am in is called the Krebs or Crab, round the corner is the Crawfish, and somewhere else the Shrimps.
"I wonder what you are now all doing in the Belvidere,[20] and what projects you are all making for the summer, and whether you have ripe strawberries, and there is good promise of cherries and apples; and so, with kind love to all, adieu from your affectionate papa, J.H. Burton."
"Deggendorf, Bayerischer Wald,
1st July 1879.
"My dear Love,—I had a misgiving that I had given a false prospect of reaching me at Regensburg,
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