edingburgh picturesque notes-第6章
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events ought with propriety to happen; and in this spirit
he made the LADY OF THE LAKE for Ben Venue; the HEART OF
MIDLOTHIAN for Edinburgh; and the PIRATE; so
indifferently written but so romantically conceived; for
the desolate islands and roaring tideways of the North。
The common run of mankind have; from generation to
generation; an instinct almost as delicate as that of
Scott; but where he created new things; they only forget
what is unsuitable among the old; and by survival of the
fittest; a body of tradition becomes a work of art。 So;
in the low dens and high…flying garrets of Edinburgh;
people may go back upon dark passages in the town's
adventures; and chill their marrow with winter's tales
about the fire: tales that are singularly apposite and
characteristic; not only of the old life; but of the very
constitution of built nature in that part; and singularly
well qualified to add horror to horror; when the wind
pipes around the tall LANDS; and hoots adown arched
passages; and the far…spread wilderness of city lamps
keeps quavering and flaring in the gusts。
Here; it is the tale of Begbie the bank…porter;
stricken to the heart at a blow and left in his blood
within a step or two of the crowded High Street。 There;
people hush their voices over Burke and Hare; over drugs
and violated graves; and the resurrection…men smothering
their victims with their knees。 Here; again; the fame of
Deacon Brodie is kept piously fresh。 A great man in his
day was the Deacon; well seen in good society; crafty
with his hands as a cabinet…maker; and one who could sing
a song with taste。 Many a citizen was proud to welcome
the Deacon to supper; and dismissed him with regret at a
timeous hour; who would have been vastly disconcerted had
he known how soon; and in what guise; his visitor
returned。 Many stories are told of this redoubtable
Edinburgh burglar; but the one I have in my mind most
vividly gives the key of all the rest。 A friend of
Brodie's; nested some way towards heaven in one of these
great LANDS; had told him of a projected visit to the
country; and afterwards; detained by some affairs; put it
off and stayed the night in town。 The good man had lain
some time awake; it was far on in the small hours by the
Tron bell; when suddenly there came a creak; a jar; a
faint light。 Softly he clambered out of bed and up to a
false window which looked upon another room; and there;
by the glimmer of a thieves' lantern; was his good friend
the Deacon in a mask。 It is characteristic of the town
and the town's manners that this little episode should
have been quietly tided over; and quite a good time
elapsed before a great robbery; an escape; a Bow Street
runner; a cock…fight; an apprehension in a cupboard in
Amsterdam; and a last step into the air off his own
greatly…improved gallows drop; brought the career of
Deacon William Brodie to an end。 But still; by the
mind's eye; he may be seen; a man harassed below a
mountain of duplicity; slinking from a magistrate's
supper…room to a thieves' ken; and pickeering among the
closes by the flicker of a dark lamp。
Or where the Deacon is out of favour; perhaps some
memory lingers of the great plagues; and of fatal houses
still unsafe to enter within the memory of man。 For in
time of pestilence the discipline had been sharp and
sudden; and what we now call 'stamping out contagion' was
carried on with deadly rigour。 The officials; in their
gowns of grey; with a white St。 Andrew's cross on back
and breast; and a white cloth carried before them on a
staff; perambulated the city; adding the terror of man's
justice to the fear of God's visitation。 The dead they
buried on the Borough Muir; the living who had concealed
the sickness were drowned; if they were women; in the
Quarry Holes; and if they were men; were hanged and
gibbeted at their own doors; and wherever the evil had
passed; furniture was destroyed and houses closed。 And
the most bogeyish part of the story is about such houses。
Two generations back they still stood dark and empty;
people avoided them as they passed by; the boldest
schoolboy only shouted through the keyhole and made off;
for within; it was supposed; the plague lay ambushed like
a basilisk; ready to flow forth and spread blain and
pustule through the city。 What a terrible next…door
neighbour for superstitious citizens! A rat scampering
within would send a shudder through the stoutest heart。
Here; if you like; was a sanitary parable; addressed by
our uncleanly forefathers to their own neglect。
And then we have Major Weir; for although even his
house is now demolished; old Edinburgh cannot clear
herself of his unholy memory。 He and his sister lived
together in an odour of sour piety。 She was a marvellous
spinster; he had a rare gift of supplication; and was
known among devout admirers by the name of Angelical
Thomas。 'He was a tall; black man; and ordinarily looked
down to the ground; a grim countenance; and a big nose。
His garb was still a cloak; and somewhat dark; and he
never went without his staff。' How it came about that
Angelical Thomas was burned in company with his staff;
and his sister in gentler manner hanged; and whether
these two were simply religious maniacs of the more
furious order; or had real as well as imaginary sins upon
their old…world shoulders; are points happily beyond the
reach of our intention。 At least; it is suitable enough
that out of this superstitious city some such example
should have been put forth: the outcome and fine flower
of dark and vehement religion。 And at least the facts
struck the public fancy and brought forth a remarkable
family of myths。 It would appear that the Major's staff
went upon his errands; and even ran before him with a
lantern on dark nights。 Gigantic females; 'stentoriously
laughing and gaping with tehees of laughter' at
unseasonable hours of night and morning; haunted the
purlieus of his abode。 His house fell under such a load
of infamy that no one dared to sleep in it; until
municipal improvement levelled the structure to the
ground。 And my father has often been told in the nursery
how the devil's coach; drawn by six coal…black horses
with fiery eyes; would drive at night into the West Bow;
and belated people might see the dead Major through the
glasses。
Another legend is that of the two maiden sisters。 A
legend I am afraid it may be; in the most discreditable
meaning of the term; or perhaps something worse … a mere
yesterday's fiction。 But it is a story of some vitality;
and is worthy of a place in the Edinburgh kalendar。 This
pair inhabited a single room; from the facts; it must
have been double…bedded; and it may have been of some
dimensions: but when all is said; it was a single room。
Here our two spinsters fell out … on some point of
controversial divinity belike: but fell out so bitterly
that there was never a word spoken between them; black or
white; from that day forward。 You would have thought
they would separate: but no; whether from lack of means;
or the Scottish fear of scandal; they continued to keep
house together where they were。 A chalk line drawn upon
the floor separated their two domains; it bisected the
doorway and the fireplace; so that each could go out and
in; and do her cooking; without violating the territory
of the other。 So; for years; they coexisted in a hateful
silence; their meals; their ablutions; their friendly
visitors; exposed to an unfriendly scrutiny; and at
night; in the dark watches; each could hear the breathing
of her enemy。 Never did four walls look down upon an
uglier spectacle than these sisters rivalling in
unsisterliness。 Here is a canvas for Hawthorne to have
turned into a cabinet picture … he ha