The Book-Hunter
"MY DEAR RUSSEL,--What am I expected to do with the Cat Stane? Not
to review it, I hope. I have had a sniff of it already in the
proceedings of the Antiquarian Society. It is a brilliant specimen
of the pedantic pottering of the learned body which enables me to
append to my name the A.S.S., fraudulently inverted into S.S.A.
Such twaddle always excites me into feverishness. I haven't nerve
for it.
"I see the grandfather of Hengist and Horsa is made out very
clearly, but there seem insuperable difficulties in proving Hengist
and Horsa themselves. This strikes me as a characteristic of the
author's[12] profession. He has to deal with parents actual and
possible, but the offspring are seen evanescently, often loom in
the distance, and sometimes can't be got to exist even when most
desired.--Yours truly, J.H. BURTON."
[Footnote 12: The late Professor Simpson.]
Dr Simpson's really universal genius led him pretty deeply into
archaeology, in which he sometimes, as on the present occasion, showed
more zeal than knowledge.
One of the first summers at Craighouse was enlivened by a long visit
from the African traveller, Captain Speke. Dr Burton met with him in the
hospitable house of his friendly publisher, the late John Blackwood, at
Strathtyrum. Captain Speke was then preparing, or endeavouring to
prepare, for the press, his book, the 'Discovery of the Source of the
Nile.' The truly gallant Captain being more practised in exploring than
in writing, Mr Blackwood suggested his going home with Dr Burton, that
he might have the benefit of his advice in the formation of his
materials into a book. The family at Craighouse became warmly attached
to their guest. He endeared himself by his simple unassuming character,
and a peculiar sweetness of temper. The sorrow at Craighouse was great
on hearing, during the following autumn, of his most lamentable death.
He who had escaped so many dangers--was so well accustomed to
firearms--accidentally shot by his own gun while partridge-shooting near
his paternal home!
While at Craighouse, Dr Burton's library gradually increased from being
an ordinary room full of books, to a collection numbering about 10,000
volumes. From his earliest years Dr Burton had been a collector of
books, and Craighouse led to the increase of his collection in two ways.
The distance from the town was an impediment to the use of the
Advocates' Library in his historical studies, and there was space at
Craighouse for any number of books. There were always rooms which could
be taken into occupation when wanted; and to his life's end it was a
favourite amusement of Dr Burton's to construct and erect shelves for
his books.
In an article in 'Blackwood's Magazine' for August 1879, there occurs
the following lively description of the impression made by the library
on the mind of a visitor. Before the passage quoted was published, Dr
Burton had left Craighouse for Morton House, but the description
evidently refers to Craighouse:--
"We have had the privilege of dropping in upon him [Dr Burton clearly
being meant, though not named] in what we might call his lair, if the
word did not sound disrespectful. It was in a venerable,
half-castellated, ivy-grown manor-house, among avenues of ancient trees,
where the light had first to struggle through the foliage before it fell
on the narrow windows, in walls that were many feet in thickness. And
seldom, surely, has so rich a collection been stowed away in so strange
a suite of rooms. Rooms, indeed, are hardly the word. The central point,
where the proprietor wrote and studied, was a vaulted chamber, and all
around was a labyrinth of passages to which you mounted or descended by
a step or two; of odd nooks and sombre little corridors, and tiny
apartments squeezed aside into corners, and lighted either from the
corridor or by a lancet-window or a loophole. The floors were of
polished oak or deal; the ceilings of stone or whitewashed; and as to
the walls, you could see nothing of them for the panelling of shelves
and the backs of the volumes. It was books--books--books--everywhere;
the brilliant modern binding of recent works relieving the dull and far
more appropriate tints of work-worn leather and time-stained vellum. To
the visitor it seemed confusion worse confounded; though wherever his
glance happened to fall, he had assurance of the treasures heaped at
random around him. But his host carried the clue to the labyrinth in his
brain, and could lay his hand on the spur of the moment on the book he
happened to want. And with the wonders he had to offer for your
admiration, you forgot the flight of time, till you woke up from your
abstraction in the enchanted library, to inquire about the manuscript
that was in course of publication."
In spring Dr Burton generally spent some time in London, partly on
official business, partly in literary research at the British Museum.
He was elected a member of the Athenaeum Club without application or
ballot, an honour which he valued highly. He delighted in the dignified
and literary tone of the Club, and frequented it much when in London.
About 1867 the office of Historiographer-Royal becoming vacant, it was
bestowed on Dr Burton, with a salary of L190 per annum, thus bringing
his annual income to nearly L900, instead of L700. The compliment was
enhanced by the fact of a Conservative Ministry being then in office.
Dr Burton was a decided, though not aggressive, Liberal in politics.
Though personally more and more unsociable as years advanced, Dr Burton
was excessively hospitable. He could not bear that any person, rich or
poor, should leave his house unrefreshed, and he made both servants and
children welcome to see their friends if these did not trespass on his
time. A nervous inquiry in later years, if he heard of any guest being
expected, was, "He, or she, will not meddle with me, will he?" Assured
that the privacy of his library would be respected, any one was free to
the rest of the house; and if they showed no disposition to intrude, Dr
Burton would gradually become tame to them, and in some few instances
appear to enjoy a temporary addition to the family circle. Such
instances were, however, rare and ever rarer. He was strongly attached
to his home and home circle, and preferred having no addition to it. A
very partial parent to all his children, his sons were his special pride
and happiness.
During the first years of Craighouse, his wife was able to accompany him
in those long rambles on the Pentlands which were his favourite
amusement. Afterwards, when she was unable for the exertion, he found
pleasant companions in his sons.
Several times during those years he spent some weeks on the Continent.
He generally wrote daily during all absences, but his letters, as
already said, were for the most part brief,--chiefly craving for news
from home, which was also written for him daily. If any accident
prevented his receiving his daily letter, he expressed agonies of
apprehension about all possible or impossible ills. In regard to the
health of his family he was painfully anxious and apprehensive.
The subjoined letters are offered as specimens of his correspondence.
"ATHENAEUM CLUB,
_29th June 1871_.
"MY DEAR WILLIE,[13]--As you and I have often gone geologising
together, I'll tell you how I got on at St Albans, where, I suppose
you know, I saw cousin William.[14] You know the conglomerates.
They are generally hard little stones in a casing of sandstone,
lime, or other soft matter. I have known for thirty years, in a
lapidary's window in Perth, a large piece of conglomerate, where
all is hard and flinty, taking a beautiful polish. After much
inquiry I found that this was got in Hertfordshire, where St Albans
is. I could get no account of any rock of it, however. But as there
was a committee of agriculturists smoking in the inn every evening,
I joined them, and got my information.
[Footnote 13: Dr Burton's eldest son, then a boy of fifteen.]
[Footnote 14: William Burton, artist, son of Dr Burton's eldest
brother.]
"It always occurs in cakes under the soil, and is very troublesome
in ploughing. It is called the 'Mother stone,' or the 'Breeding
stone,' from a supposition that it is the nursery of all the
flints. When its nodules grow large enough, they set up as flints
on their own account. There is therefore a great desire to
extirpate it from the fields, and it might be found by their sides,
or, as one man said, 'You may foind it anywheres, and you maint
never foind it nowheres.' So I prowled about and got plenty,
chipping off as much as I could conveniently carry.
"Tell Tucky and Cos[15] all this. I'm sure it will amuse
them.--Your affectionate papa."
[Footnote 15: His two younger children.]
* * * * *
"STRASBURG, _8th August 1875_.
"MY DEAR COSMO,[16]--You have been very industrious, and have
earned your holidays, so I hope you will have a good swing of them
before we begin our Latin exercises. Meanwhile I am going to give
you a little lesson in history and geography suggested by my
travels.
[Footnote 16: Dr Burton's youngest son, eleven or twelve years
old.]
"Look at some map containing Holland. You find me land at
Rotterdam, and go round by Arnheim to Nymegen. This town used to be
strongly fortified. I rambled in the remains of the fortifications,
like small hills and valleys covered with bright grass. I saw a
quantity of fine mushrooms growing in them, and the tall yellow
flowers known as Samson's rod. The reason of the fortification is
this. The Hollanders were an industrious, frugal people, who made a
fruitful country out of swamps and sand. Nymegen is in the border.
It is the gate, as it were, to Holland, and the fortifications kept
the gate shut against enemies.
"In the year 1704 there reigned in France Louis XIV., called Louis
the Grand. He had greatly enlarged his dominions, taking one
country after another. He possessed the whole between Holland and
France, and now he was to besiege Nymegen and take Holland. The
Hollanders said to the British: 'We have been good friends; you are
strong. Surely you will not let this cruel king rob us of the
fruits of our industry? Besides, if Louis takes one country after
another he will be so strong that you will not be able to resist
him--it is your interest as well as ours. Come and help us in our
sore distress.'
"So Queen Anne sent over an army under Marlborough. Not only did he
save Nymegen, but he took from King Louis the chief fortified town
he had in the neighbourhood--Venlo,--and many others along the
river Maas or Meuse. There was an alliance with the Germans, and
when King Louis heard that a German army was going to join the
British he said, 'Together they will be too strong for me, let us
destroy the German army in the first place.' For this purpose he
sent an army to the Danube.
"For reasons I may tell you afterwards, all great battles are
fought on flat ground. Marlborough thought that if he could get his
army over the hills and into the plains of the Danube, he could
fight the French before they destroyed the Germans. Accordingly he
crossed what is called the 'watershed' between the Rhine and the
Danube. You will find it at Geislingen, between Heidelberg and
here. There is always high ground, and generally a valley in it at