Memoirs of a Highland Lady

by Elizabeth Grant

  I felt very lonely wandering about by myself, or seated in state in the library, with no one to speak to. There was no Company in the house. My Mother was little with me. Her hours were late, her habits indolent; besides, she never much cared for me, and she was busily engaged with my father revolving several serious projects for the good of the family, none of them proper for us to be made acquainted with till they were decided on. His Scotch friends were anxious that my father should return to their Bar. There was a want of just such an Advocate as it was expected he would prove and the state of his affairs, though none of us young people knew it, rendered some such step as this very desirable. Also my brother William had a home to look for while he continued in College. Mrs Gordon had had another baby, and in her small house, a flat in Buccleugh Place, there was no longer room for a lodger. Then there was the beautiful daughter! The pale thin girl had blossomed into a, let us tell the truth, why not, into a very lovely flower and fluttering hopes were raised of the consequences of her blushes being seen beyond the wilderness she had hitherto bloomed in. So Edinburgh was decided on, and Grace Baillie was written to, to engage us a house.

  At this time Mrs Cameron died and was buried in our sacred corner of the kirk yard, her husband attending the funeral. He received the guests at his own house himself, walked as chief mourner, stood at the grave, returned home quietly with his son and grandsons and when the visits of condolence were paid, he appeared with the rest of the family. His manner had always been very calm, there was no difference perceptible in it. The faded eye alone and a certain drawn look about the mouth, evident only to a close observor, told the tale of the worn out heart. Yet, resigned, patient, Christian as he truly was, he might have survived the cherished wife of his youth, the companion of his age and many sorrows had not an accident shortened his life. He fell over a tub a few days before we left home, none of us thinking much of it but the blow, or cut indeed, was on the shin and it never healed. During the winter he died upwards of 78—young for a highlander, the last of his generation saving Miss Mary. When we went to take leave, he followed us down to the gate at the Lochan Mór; and there laying a hand on each young head, he bade God bless us with a fervour we recollected afterwards, and felt that he must have considered it as a final parting. Then wrapping his plaid round him and drawing his bonnet down over his eyes, he turned and moved away through the birch wood, our last sight of that dear, kind, worthy cousin from whom we had never heard but good. Rothiemurchus altered after all that old set were gone.

  Our mourning did not interrupt our packing. We were all in great glee making our Edinburgh preparations, when late one night we got a fright. One of the chimneys in the old part of the house took fire, a common occurrence—it was the way they were frequently cleaned!—but on this occasion the flames communicated some sparks to a beam in the nearest ceiling, and very soon part of the roof was burning. None of us being in bed the house was soon roused, the masons sent for, and a plentiful supply of water being at hand all danger was soon over. My mother was however exceedingly frightened, could hardly be persuaded to retire to her room, and kept us all near her to be ready for whatever might befall. At last, when calmer, we missed Miss Elphick; she was no where to be found, and we really feared some mischance had happened to her. After a good search she was discovered as far from the house as she could well get, dancing about on the lawn in her night dress, without either a shoe or a stocking on her; by which crazy proceeding she caught so severe a cold as was nearly the death of her. The whole scene made a beautiful picture, Jane said, and while the rest of us were rather trembling for the fate of the poor old house, she was actually studying the various groups as they moved about under the flickering light of the blazing chimney.

  We had no more adventures till we started on our journey, nor any incidents deserving of notice during our three days ‘travel, save indeed one, the most splendid bow with hat off from my odiously persevering partner, who, from the top of the Perth Coach as it passed us near Kinross, almost prostrated himself before the barouche. It was cold wretched weather, snow in the hills, frost in the plains, a fog over the ferry. We were none of us sorry to find ourselves within the warm cheerful house Miss Baillie had taken for us, at No. 4 Heriot Row. It was not a large house having no upper storey. One floor only over the drawing room, but there were four rooms on each floor and they were all of a good size. The situation was pleasant, though not at all what it is now. There were no prettily laid out gardens then between Heriot Row and Queen Street, only a long slope of unsightly grass, a green, fenced by an extremely untidy wall and abandoned to the use of the washerwomen. It was an ugly prospect, and we were daily indulged with it, the cleanliness of the inhabitants being so excessive that, except on Sundays and the’ Saturdays at e’en,’ squares of bleaching linens and lines of drying ditto were ever before our eyes. Our arrival was notified to our acquaintance by what my father’s brethren in the law called his advertisement, a large brass plate, really very little less than a page of this paper, on which in letters of suitable size were engraved the words—Mr Grant, Advocate.

  We began our Edinburgh life in regular business fashion. My father established himself with a clerk and a quantity of law books in a study, where he really soon had a good deal of work to do. He went every morning to the parliament house, breakfasting rather before nine to suit William, who was to be at Dr Hope’s chemistry class at that hour, and from thence proceed to Dr Brown’s Moral Philosophy, and then to Mr Playfair’s Natural Philosophy.1 A Tutor for Greek and Latin awaited him at home, and in the evenings he had a good three hours’ employment making notes and reading up, etc. Six masters were engaged for we three girls, three every day; Mr Penson for the pianoforte, M. Elouis for the Harp, M. L’Espinasse for French, Signor Something for Italian, and Mr I forget who for Drawing, Mr Scott for writing and cyphering. And oh, a seventh! I was near forgetting, the most important of all! Mr Smart for Dancing. I was occasionally to accompany my father and mother to a few select parties, provided I promised attention to this phalanx of instructors, and never omitted being up in the morning to make the breakfast in proper time. It was hoped that with Miss Elphick to look after us, such progress would be made and such order observed as would make this a profitable winter for every body. An eye over all was certainly wanted. My mother never left her room till mid day, she breakfasted in bed and took a good sleep afterwards, the marketing being made by Gouard, all the orders given the day before.

  On the same floor with the Drawing rooms which communicated with each other by means of folding doors, were my brother William’s room and the Schoolroom, As I was never welcome in the Schoolroom, my studies were all carried on in the Drawing rooms, between the hours of ten, when breakfast was over, and one, when people began to call. It was just an hour apiece for each master, and very little spare time at any other period of the day for practising for them, invitations flowing in quick, and my occasional visiting resulting in an eternal round of gaieties that never left us one quiet evening except Sunday.

  About two every day my mother went out to make calls or shop either on foot or most commonly in the carriage, taking me with her. On our return about four or maybe later the drawing room filled with men, who at about that time were at liberty from their different avocations to indulge themselves with a pleasant hour of gossip before dinner. After the first week or two, therefore, I gave up attempting to prepare for the masters, and when the Balls began I had frequently to miss their lessons, as the late hours coupled with the fatigue of frequently uninterrupted dancing exhausted me too much to make it possible for me to attend to their instructions regularly. The only lessons I never neglected were Mr Penson’s. He brought his violin to accompany us, and sometimes a violincello, so that we got up trios occasionally, a very delightful treat to me without trouble, for I had no leisure for practising, just played at sight with him what ever he brought. Jane and Mary were kept more systematically to their business, yet Jane having to make breakfast after a while,
and Mary having to wait on my Mother at that meal and afterwards assist at her toilette, rather interrupted the studies and extremely annoyed Miss Elphick. She found her evenings dull too without the Drawing room party and she could not bear dining early with the children when we either went out or had Company at home. She was ill too, a teasing cough and other bad symptoms from the effects of the cold she caught during her half naked dance upon the lawn. So cross and uncomfortable and disagreeable she became, the whole house was quite relieved when she announced her determination to take a holiday. She could be well spared, she said, when there were such excellent masters to replace her, and so she set off on a visit to her mother and sister.

  On her departure my Mother’s maid was deputed to walk out once a day with Jane, Mary, and Johnny, all the exercise they got. Jane taught Johnny, and she and Mary continued their own employments I really believe conscientiously. They said, at first, they found their days long and the evenings dull, but these complaints ceased when, as my Mother supposed, they became accustomed to live alone, and then they had to make tea for William, who was always a kind and cheerful companion for them. The real fact was, that whenever my father was out with my Mother and me, William had a very pleasant party at home—young College friends, and M. L’Espinasse the French Master. Every visitor brought a small supply of fruit and cakes, and Jane had plenty of tea, sugar, bread and butter for the substantial part of the feast. Conscientious as she was, she kept this secret faithfully and the servants who were all engaged in their own amusements were equally honourable. There were two very good rules observed by this pretty assemblage, no intoxicating liquors were allowed, and the company separated before eleven o’clock. No wonder Miss Elphick’s absence was agreeable, William certainly must have neglected his studies—he was out riding for two or three hours daily on pretty little Fairy, a thorough bred by way of for which he had given rather a long price and had my father’s permission to keep in the Stables

  Our visiting began with dinners from the heads of the Bar, the judges, some of the Professors, and a few others, all Whigs nearly, for the two political parties mixed very little in those days. The hour was six, the company generally numbered sixteen, plate, fine wines, middling cookery, bad attendance and beautiful rooms. One or two young people generally enlivened them. They were mostly got through before the Christmas vacation. In January began the routs and balls; they were over by Easter, and then a few more sociable meetings were thinly spread over the remainder of the Spring, when, having little else to do, I really began to profit by the lessons of our Masters. My career of dissipation was therefore but a four months thrown away. It left me a wreck, however, in more ways than one; I was never strong, and I was quite unequal to all we went through. Mrs Macpherson, who came up with Belleville in March for a week or two, started when she saw me. She thought me in a galloping consumption and very properly frightened my mother about me, who had observed no change, as of course it had come on imperceptibly. She had been extremely flattered and I believe a little surprised by my extraordinary success in our small world of fashion. I was high on the list of beauties, no ball could go on without me, ladies intending to open up their houses for dancing, solicited introductions to the mother for the sake of ensuring the daughters presence. Crowds of beaux surrounded us when we walked out, filled our drawing rooms when we staid within. It was very intoxicating, but it did not intoxicate me, young and unformed as I was, and unused to admiration, personal beauty being little spoken of in the family. I owed my steadiness to neither good sense nor wise counsel, for neither of these were watching over me. A simple happy temper, a genuine love of dancing, a little highland pride that took every attention as the due of one of Grant blood, these were my safeguards, these and the one all absorbing feeling which early took possession of the young heart to the exclusion of other ideas.

  The intimate friends of my father were among the cleverest of the Whigs. Lord Gillies and his charming wife, John Clerk and his sister, Sir David and Lady Brewster—more than suspected of Toryism, yet admitted on account of the Belleville connexion and his great reputation—Mr and Mrs Jeffrey, John Murray, Tommy Thomson, William Clerk. There were others attached to these brighter stars, who, judiciously mixed among them, improved the agreeableness of the dinner parties. My Mothers new and gay acquaintance were of all parties. Lady Molesworth, her handsome sister, Mrs Munro, Mrs Stein, Lady Arbuthnot, Mrs Grant of Kilgraston, etc. We had had the wisdom to begin the season with a Ball ourselves, before Balls were plenty. All the Beaux strove for tickets, because all the Belles of the season made their first appearance there. It was a decided hit, my Mother shining in the style of her preparations, and in her manner of receiving her company. The dancing was kept up till near the day dawn and every one departed pleased with the degree of attention paid to each individually. It struck me afterwards, in more reflecting days, that this Ball and my father’s fir forest had no small share in my successful campaign, for my sister beauties were many of them so far beyond any loveliness I could pretend to. There were the two unmarried Dennistouns, afterwards Lady Campbell and Lady Baillie, Miss Farquhar Gray who became Mrs Ashburner, poor Betty Brown. Above all that really beautiful Miss Logan, the quite splendid Miss Dewar of Vogrie, Mrs Hastings Anderson, and several more pretty pleasing girls, who as usual married better than the more admired. Yet we none of us wanted for lovers, earnest, honest lovers, men that a few years later might have been listened to by the scornful fair who in the height of their pride considered them as just good enough to dance with. It is a great mistake sometimes to speak too soon.

  The return to the Bar had answered pretty well; fees came in I know usefully, though certainly not in sufficient quantity to authorise our expensive way of living. We gave dinners of course, very pleasant ones, the dishes so well dressed, the wines so choice, and the company well selected that the parties always appeared to be more thoroughly at ease with us than elsewhere. My dress and my Mother’s must have cost a fortune, it all came from London, from the little Miss Steuarts, who covered my mother with velvet, satin, rich silks, costly furs and loads of expensive lace while the variety of my nets, gauzes, Roman pearl trimmings and French wreaths, with a few more substantial morning and dinner dresses must have helped to swell up the bills to some very large amount. Some of the fashions were curious, I walked out like a hussar in a dark cloth pelisse trimmed with fur and braided like the coat of a Staff officer, boots to match, and a fur cap set on one side, and kept on the head by means of a cord with very long tassels. This equipment was copied by half the town, it was thought so exquisite. We wound up our gaieties too by a large evening party, so that all received civilities were fully repaid to the entire satisfaction of every body. This Rout, for so these mere card and conversation parties were called, made more stir than was at all intended, It was given in the Easter holidays, or about that time, for my father was back with us after having been in London. He had gone up on some Appeal Cases, and took the opportunity of appearing in his place in the House of Commons, speaking a little, and voting on several occasions, particularly on the Corn Law Bill,2 his opinion on which made him extremely unpopular with the Radical section of his own party, and with the lower orders throughout the country, who kept clamouring for cheap bread, while he supported the producer, the agriculturist. His name as a protectionist was very quickly remarked in Edinburgh where there was hardly another Member of Parliament to be had, and the mob being in its first fresh excitement the very evening of my Mother’s rout, she and her acquaintance came in for a very unpleasant demonstration of its anger against their former favourite.

  Our first intimation of danger was from a volley of stones rattling through the windows, which had been left without closed shutters on account of the heat of the crowded rooms. A great mob had collected unknown to us, as we had musick within, and much noise from the buzz of the crowd. A score of ladies fainted by way of improving matters. Lady Matilda Wynyard, who had always all her senses about her, came up to my mother a
nd told her she need be under no alarm. The General, who had had some hint of what was preparing, had given the necessary orders, and one of the Company, a highland Captain Macpherson, had been despatched some time since for the military. A violent ringing of the door bell, and then the heavy tread of soldiers’ feet announced to us our guard had come. Then followed voices of command outside, ironical cheers, groans, hisses, a sad confusion At last came the tramp of dragoons, under whose polite attentions the company in some haste departed. Our Guard remained with us all night and ate up all the refreshments provided for our dismayed guests, with the addition of a cold round of beef which most fortunately was found in the larder. Next day quiet was perfectly restored, the mob molested us no more, and the incident served as conversation very usefully for a week or more. It also brought us better acquainted with those excellent people, General and Lady Matilda Wynyard, whose English reserve had hitherto kept them merely on civil visiting terms with us. From her conduct, with a little help from a side remark or two of my father’s, I got a good lesson in some of the trials of life.

  There was a flirting, singing, not very wise Widow, rather in fashion in Edinburgh, a good natured Mrs General Anstruther whose principal merit was the having had her husband, a man of good Fifeshire family, killed in Egypt while serving under General Abercromby. She was far from handsome yet many men were much taken by her, amongst others General Wynyard, whose admiration was so very undisguised and all of whose spare time was so entirely occupied in attending on her, that his devotion was really the talk of the town and could not possibly have escaped the notice of Lady Matilda and yet she never seemed to observe it. She behaved with the same politeness to this illbehaved trifling woman as she did to her other acquaintance, invited her in her turn, spoke to her when necessary just as if she were neither more or less to her than any other of their society, always however in some unaccountable way throwing Mrs Anstruther back, as it were, putting herself and her requirements first, without effort either, when she and her husband were together so that in the end the General wearied of his unapproved flirtation and came to look upon this foolish woman with the same indifference he fancied his wife did. That Lady Matilda suffered, clear sighted bystanders could not but observe. And when her calmness had triumphed, every one most sincerely rejoiced.