[ 312 ] |
Early on the 23d of September Sir Walter left Abbotsford, attended by his daughter Anne, and myself, and we reached London by easy stages on the 28th, having spent one day at Rokeby. I have nothing to mention of this journey except that, notwithstanding all his infirmities, he would not pass any object to which he had ever attached special interest, without getting out of the carriage to revisit it. His anxiety (for example) about the gigantic British or Danish effigy in the churchyard at Penrith, which we had all seen dozens of times before, seemed as great as if not a year had fled since 1797. It may be supposed that his parting with Mr Morritt was a grave one. Finding that he had left the ring he then usually wore behind him at one of the inns on the road, he wrote to his friend to make enquiries after it, as it had been dug out of the ruins of Hermitage Castle, and probably belonged of yore to one of the “Dark Knights of Liddesdale,” and if recovered, to keep it until he should come back to reclaim it, but, in the mean time, to wear it for his sake. The ring, which is a broad belt of silver, with an angel holding the Heart of Douglas, was found, and is now worn by Mr Morritt.
LONDON SEPTEMBER, 1831. | 313 |
Sir Walter arrived in London in the midst of the Lords’ debates on the second Reform bill, and the ferocious demonstrations of the populace on its rejection were in part witnessed by him. He saw the houses of several of the chief Tories, and above all, that of the Duke of Wellington, shattered and almost sacked. He heard of violence offered to the persons of some of his own noble friends; and having been invited to attend the christening of the infant heir of Buccleuch, whose godfather the King had proposed to be, on a day appointed by his Majesty, he had the pain to understand that the ceremony must be adjourned, because it was not considered safe for his Majesty to visit, for such a purpose, the palace of one of his most amiable, as well as illustrious peers.
The following is part of a letter which I lately received from Sir Walter’s dear friend and kinsman, Mr Scott of Gala: “The last time I saw
Sir W. Scott was in Sussex Place, the day after he arrived
from Scotland, on his way to Italy. I was prepared for a change in his appearance, but
was not struck with so great a one as I had expected. He evidently had lost strength
since I saw him at Abbotsford the previous autumn, but his eye was good. In his
articulation, however, there was too manifest an imperfection. We conversed shortly, as
may be supposed, on his health. ‘Weakness,’ he observed,
‘was his principal complaint.’ I said that I supposed he had
been rather too fatigued with his journey to leave the house since his arrival.
‘Oh no,’ he replied, ‘I felt quite able for a drive
to-day, and have just come from the city. I paid a visit to my friend Whittaker to ask him for some book of travels
likely to be of use to me on my expedition to the Mediterranean. Here’s
old Brydone accordingly, still as good a
companion as any he could recommend.’ ‘A very agreeable one
certainly,’
314 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“Sir Walter often digressed
during our conversation to the state of the country, about which he seemed to have much
anxiety. I said we had no Napoleon to frighten
LONDON—OCTOBER, 1831. | 315 |
“The Forest and our new road (which had
cost both so much consultation) were of course touched on. The foundation of one of the
new bridges had been laid by him—and this should be commemorated by an inscription on it. ‘Well,’
said he, ‘how I should like to have a ride with you along our new road, just
opposite Abbotsford—I will hope to be able for it some day.’ Most
heartily did I join in the wish, and could not help flattering myself it might yet be possible. When we parted, he shook hands with me for some
time. He did so once more—but added firmly—‘Well, we’ll have a ride yet,
some day.’ I pleased myself with the hope that he augured rightly. But on
leaving him many misgivings presented themselves; and the accounts from the continent
served but too surely to confirm these apprehensions—never more did I meet with my
illustrious friend. There is reason I believe to be thankful that it was so—
316 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
During his stay, which was till the 23d of October, Sir Walter called on many of his old friends; but he accepted of no hospitalities except breakfasting once with Sir Robert Inglis, on Clapham Common, and once or twice with Lady Gifford at Roehampton. Usually he worked a little in the morning at notes for the Magnum, and he drew up, as already mentioned, the preface for the forthcoming tales of Count Robert and Castle Dangerous.
Dr Robert Ferguson, one of the family with which
Sir Walter had lived all his days in such
brother-like affection, saw him constantly while he remained in the Regent’s Park;
and though neither the invalid nor his children could fancy any other medical advice
necessary, it was only due to Ferguson that some of his seniors should
be called in occasionally with him. Sir Henry
Halford (whom Scott reverenced as the friend of
Baillie) and Dr
Holland (an esteemed friend of his own), came accordingly; and all the three
concurred in recognising certain evidence that there was incipient disease in the brain.
There were still, however, such symptoms of remaining vigour, that they flattered
themselves, if their patient would submit to a total intermission of all literary labour
during some considerable space of time, the malady might yet be arrested. When they left
him after the first inspection, they withdrew into an adjoining room, and on soon rejoining
him found, that in the interim he had wheeled his chair into a dark corner, so that he
might see their faces without their being able to read his. When he was informed of the
comparatively favourable views they entertained, he expressed great thankfulness; promised
to obey all their directions as
LONDON—OCTOBER, 1831. | 317 |
The following are extracts from his Diary.—“London, October 2, 1830.—I have been very ill, and if not quite unable to write, I have been unfit to do it. I have wrought, however, at two Waverley things, but not well. A total prostration of bodily strength is my chief complaint. I cannot walk half a mile. There is, besides, some mental confusion, with the extent of which I am not, perhaps, fully acquainted. I am perhaps setting. I am myself inclined to think so, and like a day that has been admired as a fine one, the light of it sets down amid mists and storms. I neither regret nor fear the approach of death, if it is coming. I would compound for a little pain instead of this heartless muddiness of mind. The expense of this journey, &c. will be considerable, yet these heavy burdens could be easily borne if I were to be the Walter Scott I once was—but the change is great. And the ruin which I fear involves that of my country. Well says Colin Mackenzie—
‘Shall this Desolation strike thy towers alone? No, fair Ellandonan! such ruin ’twill bring, That the whirl shall have power to unsettle the throne, And thy fate shall be link’d with the fate of thy king.’* |
* See Ballad of Ellandonan Castle in the Minstrelsy. Poetical Works, Vol. iv. p. 361. |
318 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“Oct. 12.—Lord Mahon, a very amiable as well as clever young man, comes to dinner with Mr Croker, Lady Louisa Stuart, and Sir John Malcolm. Sir John told us a story about Garrick and his wife. The lady admired her husband greatly, but blamed him for a taste for low life, and insisted that he loved better to play Scrub to a low-lifed audience than one of his superior characters before an audience of taste. On one particular occasion she was at her box in the theatre. Richard III. was the performance, and Garrick’s acting, particularly in the night-scene, drew down universal applause. After the play was over, Mrs G. proposed going home, which Garrick declined, alleging he had some business in the green-room which must detain him. In short the lady was obliged to acquiesce, and wait the beginning of a new entertainment, in which was introduced a farmer giving his neighbours an account of the wonders seen in a visit to London. This character was received with such peals of applause that Mrs Garrick began to think it exceeded those which had been so lately lavished on Richard the Third. At last she observed her little spaniel dog was making efforts to get towards the balcony which separated him from the facetious farmer and then she became aware of the truth. ‘How strange,’ he said, ‘that a dog should know his master, and a woman, in the same circumstances, should not recognise her husband?’
“Oct. 18.—A pleasant breakfast at
Roehampton, where I met my good friend Lord
Sidmouth. On my
LONDON—OCTOBER, 1831. | 319 |
“Oct. 18.—Sophia had a small but lively party last night, as indeed she has had every night since we were here—Lady Stafford, Lady Louisa Stuart, Lady Montagu, Miss Montagu, Lady Davy, Mrs M’Leod, and her girls—Lord Montagu, Macleod, Lord Dudley, Rogers, Mackintosh. A good deal of singing.”
Sir Walter seemed to enjoy having one or two friends to meet him at dinner and a few more in the evenings. Those named in the last entries, came all of them frequently—and so did Lord Melville, the Bishop of Exeter, Lord Ashley, Sir David Wilkie, Mr Thomas Moore, Mr Milman, and Mr Washington Irving. At this time the Reform Bill for Scotland was in discussion in the House of Commons. Mr Croker made a very brilliant speech in opposition to it, and was not sorry to have it said, that he had owed his inspiration, in no small degree, to having risen from the table at which Scott sat by his side. But the most regular of the evening visiters was, I think, Sir James Mackintosh. He was himself in very feeble health, and whatever might have been the auguries of others, it struck me that there was uppermost with him at every parting the anticipation that they might never meet again. Sir James’s kind assiduity was the more welcome, that his appearance banished the politics of the hour, on which his old friend’s thoughts were too apt to brood. Their conversation, wherever it might begin, was sure to fasten ere long on Lochaber.
320 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
When last in Edinburgh Scott had given his friend William Burn, architect, directions to prepare at his expense a modest monument, for the grave of Helen Walker, the original of Jeanie Deans, in the churchyard of Irongrey. Mr Burn now informed him that the little pillar was in readiness, and on the 18th October Sir Walter sent him this beautiful inscription for it;—
THIS STONE WAS ERECTED
BY THE AUTHOR OF WAVERLEY
TO THE MEMORY
OF
HELEN WALKER,
WHO DIED IN THE YEAR OF GOD, 1791.
THIS HUMBLE INDIVIDUAL PRACTISED IN REAL LIFE
THE VIRTUES
WITH WHICH FICTION HAS INVESTED
THE IMAGINARY CHARACTER OF
JEANIE DEANS;
REFUSING THE SLIGHTEST DEPARTURE
FROM VERACITY,
EVEN TO SAVE THE LIFE OF A SISTER,
SHE NEVERTHELESS SHOWED HER
KINDNESS AND FORTITUDE,
IN RESCUING HER FROM THE SEVERITY OF THE LAW,
AT THE EXPENSE OF PERSONAL EXERTIONS
WHICH THE TIME RENDERED AS DIFFICULT
AS THE MOTIVE WAS LAUDABLE.
RESPECT THE GRAVE OF POVERTY
WHEN COMBINED WITH LOVE OF TRUTH
AND DEAR AFFECTION.
|
Next morning the Honourable Captain Henry Duncan, R.N., who was at this time store-keeper of the Ordnance, and who had taken a great deal of trouble in arranging matters for the voyage, called on Sir Walter to introduce to him Captain, now Sir Hugh Pigot, the commanding-officer of the Barham. The Diary says:—
LONDON—OCTOBER, 1831. | 321 |
“October 19.—Captain H. Duncan called with Captain Pigot, a smart-looking gentlemanlike man, who announces his purpose of sailing on Monday. I have made my preparations for being on board on Sunday, which is the day appointed.
“Captain Duncan told me jocularly never to take a naval captain’s word on shore, and quoted Sir William Scott, who used to say waggishly, that there was nothing so accommodating on shore, but when on board, he became a peremptory lion. Henry Duncan has behaved very kindly, and says he only discharges the wishes of his service in making me as easy as possible, which is very handsome—too high a compliment for me. No danger of feud, except about politics, which would be impolitic on my part, and though it bars out one great subject of discussion, it leaves enough besides. Walter arrives ready to sail. So what little remains must be done without loss of time.
“I leave this country uncertain if it has got a total pardon or only a reprieve. I won’t think of it, as I can do no good. It seems to be in one of those crises by which Providence reduces nations to their original elements. If I had my health, I should take no worldly fee, not to be in the bustle; but I am as weak as water, and I shall be glad when I have put the Mediterranean between the island and me.
“October 23.—Misty morning looks like a yellow fog, which is the curse of London. I would hardly take my share of it for a share of its wealth and its curiosity—a vile double-distilled fog, of the most intolerable kind. Children scarce stirring yet, but Baby and Macao beginning their Macao notes—”
Dr Ferguson found Sir
Walter with this page of his Diary before him, when he called to pay his
farewell
322 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
After breakfast, Sir Walter,
accompanied by his son and both his daughters, set off for Portsmouth; and Captain Basil Hall had the kindness to precede them by an
early coach, and prepare every thing for their reception at the hotel. They expected that
the embarkation would take place next day, and the Captain had considered that his
professional tact and experience might be serviceable, which they were eminently. In
changing horses at Guilford, Sir Walter got out of his carriage, and
very narrowly escaped being run over by a stagecoach. Of all “the habits of a
life,” none clung longer
OCTOBER, 1831. | 323 |
The Barham could not sail for a week. During this interval, Sir Walter scarcely stirred from his hotel, being unwilling to display his infirmities to the crowd of gazers who besieged him whenever he appeared. He received, however, deputations of the literary and scientific societies of the town, and all other visiters, with his usual ease and courtesy: and he might well be gratified with the extraordinary marks of deference paid him by the official persons who could in any way contribute to his ease and comfort. The First Lord of the Admiralty, Sir James Graham, and the Secretary, Sir John Barrow, both appeared in person, to ascertain that nothing had been neglected for his accommodation on board the frigate. The Admiral, Sir Thomas Foley, placed his barge at his disposal; the Governor, Sir Colin Campbell, and all the chief officers, naval and military, seemed to compete with each other in attention to him and his companions. In Captain Hall’s Third Series of Fragments of Voyages and Travels (vol. iii. p. 280), some interesting details have long since been made public. But it may be sufficient to say here, that had Captain Pigot and his gallant shipmates been appointed to convey a Prince of the Blood and his suite, more generous, anxious, and delicate exertions could not have been made, either in altering the interior of the vessel, so as to meet the wants of the passengers, or afterwards, throughout the voyage, in rendering it easy, comfortable, and as far as might be, interesting and amusing.
I subjoin an extract or two from the Diary at Ports-
324 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“October 24.—The girls break loose—mad with the craze of seeing sights—and run the risk of deranging the naval officers, who offer their services with their natural gallantry. I wish they would be moderate in their demands on people’s complaisance. They little know how inconvenient are such seizures. A sailor in particular is a bad refuser, and before he can turn three times round, he is bound by a triple knot to all sorts of nonsense.
“October 27.—The girls, I regret to see, have got a senseless custom of talking politics in all weathers, and in all sorts of company. This can do no good, and may give much offence. Silence can offend no one, and there are pleasanter or less irritating subjects to talk of. I gave them both a hint of this, and bid them remember they were among ordinary strangers. How little young people reflect what they may win or lose by a smart reflection imprudently fired off at a venture!”
On the morning of the 29th, the wind at last changed, and the Barham got under weigh.
After a few days, when they had passed the Bay of Biscay, Sir Walter ceased to be annoyed with seasickness, and sat most
of his time on deck, enjoying apparently the air, the scenery, and above all the ship
itself, the beautiful discipline practised in all things, and the martial exercises of the
men. In Captain Pigot, Lieutenant
Walker, the physician Dr Liddell, and
I believe in many others of the officers, he had highly intelligent, as well as polished
companions. The course was often altered, for the express purpose of giving him a glimpse
of some famous place; and it was only the
H.M.S. BARHAM—1831. | 325 |
On the 20th November they came upon that remarkable phenomenon, the sudden creation of a submarine volcano, which bore, during its very brief date, the name of Graham’s Island. Four months had elapsed since it “arose from out the azure main” and in a few days more it disappeared. “Already,” as Dr Davy says, “its crumbling masses were falling to pieces from the pressure of the hand or foot.”* Yet nothing could prevent Sir Walter from landing on it and in a letter of the following week he thus describes his adventure; the Barham had reached Malta on the 22d.
“Our habits of non-correspondence are so firmly established, that it must be a matter of some importance that sets either of us a writing to the other. As it has been my lot to see the new volcano, called Graham’s Island, either employed in establishing itself, or more likely in decomposing itself and as it must be an object of much curiosity to many of our brethren of the Royal Society, I have taken it into my head that even the very imperfect account which I can give of a matter of this extraordinary kind may be in some degree valued. Not being able to borrow your fingers, those of the Captain’s clerk have been put in requisition for the inclosed sketch, and the notes adjoined are as accurate as can be expected from a hurried visit. You have a view of the island, very much
* Philosophical Transactions, May, 1834, p. 552. |
326 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
GRAHAM’S ISLAND—NOV. 1831. | 327 |
“The gales of this new-born island are any thing but odoriferous. Brimstone, and such like, are the prevailing savours, to a degree almost suffocating. Every hole dug in the sand is filled with boiling water, or what was nearly such. I cannot help thinking that the great ebullition in the bay, is the remains of the original crater, now almost filled up, yet still showing that some extraordinary operations are going on in the subterranean regions.
“If you think, my dear Skene, that any of these trifling particulars concerning this islet can interest our friends, you are free to communicate them either to the Society or to the Club, as you judge most proper. I have just seen James* in full health, but he vanished like a guilty thing, when, forgetting that I was a contraband commodity, I went to shake him by the hand, which would have cost him ten days’ imprisonment, I being at present in quarantine.
“We saw an instance of the strictness with which this law is observed: In entering the harbour, a seaman was pushed from our yard-arm. He swam strongly, notwithstanding the fall, but the Maltese boats, of whom there were several, tacked from him, to avoid picking him up, and an English Boat, which did take the poor man in, was condemned to ten days’ imprisonment, to reward
* James Henry Skene, Esq., a son of Sir W.’s correspondent, was then a young officer on duty at Malta. |
328 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“My best compliments to Mrs Skene, to whom I am bringing a fairy cup made out of a Nautilus shell—the only one which I found entire on Graham’s Island; the original owner had suffered shipwreck. I beg to be respectfully remembered to all friends of the Club.—Yours ever, with love to your fireside,
At Malta Sir Walter found several friends of former days, besides young Skene. Mr John Hookham Frere had been resident there for several years, as he still continues, the captive of the enchanting climate, and the romantic monuments of the old chivalry.* Sir John Stoddart, the Chief Judge of the island, had known the Poet ever since the early days of Lasswade and Glenfinlas; and the Lieutenant-governor, Colonel Seymour Bathurst, had often met him under the roof of his father, the late Earl Bathurst. Mrs Bathurst’s distinguished uncle, Sir William Alexander, some time Lord Chief-Baron of England, happened also to be then visiting her. Captain Dawson, husband to Lord Kinnedder’s eldest daughter, was of the garrison, and Sir Walter felt as if he were about to meet a daughter of his own in the Euphemia Erskine who had so often sat upon his knee.
* See the charming “Epistle in Rhyme, from William Stewart Rose at Brighton, to John Hookham Frere at Malta,” published with some other pieces in 1835. |
MALTA—NOVEMBER, 1831. | 329 |
Here he saw much of a Scotch lady, with many of whose friends and connexions he had been intimate—Mrs John Davy, the daughter of a brother advocate, the late Mr Archibald Fletcher, whose residence in Edinburgh used to be in North Castle Street, within a few doors of “poor 39.” This lady has been so good as to intrust me with a few pages of her Family Journal;” and I am sure the reader will value a copy of them more than any thing else I could produce with respect to Sir Walter’s brief residence at Malta:—
“Before the end of November,” says Mrs Davy, “a great sensation was produced in
Malta, as well it might, by the arrival of Sir Walter
Scott. He came here in the Barham, a frigate
considered the very beauty of the fleet, ‘a perfect ship,’ as Sir Pulteney Malcolm used to say, and in the highest
discipline. In her annals it may now be told that she carried the most gifted,
certainly
330 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“On account of cholera then prevailing in England, a
quarantine was at this time enforced here on all who came from thence; but instead of
driving Sir Walter to the ordinary lazaretto, some
good apartments were prepared at Fort Manuel for him and his family to occupy for the
appointed time, I believe nine days. He there held a daily levee to receive the
numerous visiters who waited on him; and I well remember, on accompanying Colonel and Mrs
Bathurst and Sir William
Alexander to pay their first visit, how the sombre landing-place of the
Marsa Muscet (the quarantine harbour), under the heavy bastion that shelters it on the
Valetta side, gave even then tokens of an illustrious arrival, in the unusual number of
boats and bustle of parties setting forth to, or returning from Fort Manuel, on the
great business of the day. But even in the case of one whom all ‘delighted to
honour,’ a quarantine visit is a notably uncomfortable thing; and when our little
procession had marched up several broad flights of steps, and we found ourselves on a
landing-place ha-
MALTA—DECEMBER, 1831. | 331 |
“Sir Walter did not accept the house provided for him
332 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“A few days after his arrival in Malta he accepted an
invitation from the garrison to a ball—an odd kind of honour to
bestow on a man of letters suffering from paralytic illness, but extremely charac-
MALTA—DECEMBER, 1831. | 333 |
“A day or two afterwards, we gladly accepted an invitation brought to us by Miss Scott, to dine quietly with him and two or three officers of the Barham at his hotel; and I thought the day of this dining so white a one as to mark it especially in a little note-book the same evening. I see it stands dated December the 4th, and the little book says. ‘Dined and spent the evening of this day with Sir Walter Scott. We had only met him before at large dinner-parties. At home he was very much more happy, and more inclined to talk. Even now his conversation has many characteristics of his writings. There is the same rich felicitous quotation from favourite writers—the same happy introduction of old traditionary stories,—Scotch ones especially,—in a manner as easy, and evidently quite unprepared. The coming in of a young midshipman, cousin of his (Scott by name), to join the party, gave occasion to his telling the story of ‘Muckle Mouthed Meg,’* and to his describing the tragicomical picture drawn from that story by Mr C. K. Sharpe, which I remem-
* See ante, vol. I. p. 350. |
334 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“Sunday Morning, December 5, (as my said little note book proceeds to record)—Sir Walter spent chiefly in St John’s Church, the beautiful temple and burying-place of the knights, and there he was much pleased and interested. On Monday the 6th he dined at the
* See ante, vol. ii. p. 21. |
MALTA—DECEMBER, 1831. | 335 |
336 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
MALTA—DECEMBER, 1831. | 337 |
“My little note-book of December 9 says—The day was very beautiful (like a good English day about the end of May) and the whole way in going to St Antonio he was cheerful, and inclined to talk on any matter that was suggested. He admired the streets of Valetta much as we passed through them, noticing particularly the rich effect of the carved stone balconies, and the images of saints at every corner, saying several times ‘this town is really quite like a dream.’ Something (suggested I believe by the appearances of Romish superstition on all sides of us) brought him to speak of the Irish of whose native character he expressed a high opinion; and spoke most feelingly of the evil fate that seemed constantly to attend them. Some link from this subject (I do not exactly know what for the rattling progress of our little vehicle over ill-paved ways, and his imperfect utterance together, made it difficult to catch all his words) brought to his recollection a few fine lines from ‘O’Connor’s child,’ in the passage
‘And ranged, as to the judgment seat, My guilty, trembling brothers round’— |
* See Dr Davy’s Memoirs of his brother, vol. I. p. 506,—for the account of Speckbacker’s rifle now in the Armoury at Abbotsford. |
338 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. |
“There was no possibility of admiring the face of the country
as we drove along after getting clear of the city gates; but I was pleased to see how
refreshing the air seemed to Sir Walter—and perhaps
this made him go back, as he did, to his days of long walks, over moss and moor, which
he told me he had often traversed at the rate of five-and-twenty miles a-day, with a
gun on his shoulder. He snuffed with great delight the perfume of the new oranges,
which hung thickly on each side as we drove up the long avenue to the court-yard, or
stableyard rather, of St Antonio—and was amused at the Maltese untidiness of two or
three pigs running at large under the trees. ‘That’s just like my friend
Frere,’ he said,
‘quite content to let pigs run about in his orange-groves.’ We
did not find Mr Frere at home, and therefore drove back without
waiting. Among some other talk, in returning, he spoke with praise of Miss Ferrier as a novelist, and then with still higher
praise of Miss Austen. Of the latter he said,
‘I find myself every now and then with one of her books in my hand.
There’s a finishing-off in some of her scenes that is really quite above
every body else. And there’s that Irish lady, too—but I forget every
body’s name now’—‘Miss
Edgeworth,’ I said—‘Ay, Miss Edgeworth,
she’s very clever, and best in the little touches, too. I’m sure, in that
children’s story’—(he meant ‘Simple Susan,’) ‘where the
little girl parts with her lamb, and the little boy brings it back to her again,
there’s nothing for it but just to put down the book, and cry.’ A
little afterwards, he said, ‘Do you know Moore?—he’s a
MALTA—DECEMBER, 1831. | 339 |
“As we drew near home, I thought him somewhat fatigued—he was more confused than at first in his recollection of names—and we drove on without saying any thing. But I shall not forget the kindly good humour with which he said, in getting out at his hotel door ‘Thank ye, for your kindness—your charity, I may say—to an old lame man—farewell!’ He did not seem the worse of his little exertion this day; but, thenceforward, was prudent in refusing all dinner invitations.
“On Friday (December 10th), he went, in company with Mr Frere, to see Citta Vecchia. I drove over with a lady friend to meet them at the church there. Sir Walter seemed pleased with what was shown him, but was not animated. On Saturday the 11th he drove out twice to see various things in Valetta. On Monday morning the 13th, I saw him for the last time, when I called to take leave of Miss Scott. Dr Davy accompanied him, in the course of the following morning, to see Strada Stretta—the part of the city in which he had been told the young Knights of Malta used to fight their duels, when such affairs occurred. In quitting the street, Sir Walter looked round him earnestly, and said, ‘It will be hard if I cannot make something of this.’ On that day, Tuesday morning, December 14th, he and his party went again on board the Barham, and sailed for Naples.”
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