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 TENEMENT AT FOOT OF OVERGATE 
 
 W/iere Hood renided during his first visit to Dundee. 
 
 The " Buckie Stair " is shewn in the centre of 
 the View.
 
 HOOD IN SCOTLAND: 
 
 REMINISCENCES 
 
 OF 
 
 THOMAS HOOD, 
 
 ^0£t anb IJumorist. 
 
 INCLUDISa 
 
 pKETCH OF HIS Antecedents, 
 Priginal J^etters and J-*oem hitherto Unpublished, 
 
 AND J.ETTERS, &C., BY HIS ^ON AND PaUGHTER. 
 
 COLLECTED AXD ARRANGED BY ALEX. ELLIOT. 
 
 ifntroiiuctorii IXotirc bn Cljarlcs €. iKa^inclI, 
 
 
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 DUNDEE: 
 
 JAMES P. MATHEW & CO., 17 and 19 COWGATE. 
 
 EDINBURGH & GLASGOW : JOHN MENZIES & CO. 
 LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO. 
 
 188 5.
 
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 printed by .tamk8 v. matiikw and co. 
 
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 PREFATORY NOTE. t^^ ^ ^ <h J^ 
 
 |i"i)-^ 
 
 In respectfully laying the following pages before the 
 public, I venture to express the hope that their imperfec- 
 tions will be regarded with a kindly eye. Throughout, 1 
 have been actuated by the thought that many of my 
 fellow-townsmen might feel interested in the f\ict that 
 the greatest humorist of modern times had resided for a 
 considerable period in " Bonnie Dundee," and would be 
 jsj gratified to know that the shaping of a career so dis- 
 ^ tinguished as Hood's was in a great measm-e due to tlie 
 ^ influence of the friendships and associations he there 
 § formed. 
 
 The biographers of the Poet pass lightly over his 
 
 ^ Scottish connection, and in the " Memorials " collated by 
 
 <^ his son and daughter the fact is summarized in a few lines. 
 
 f^ Hood is stated to have lived for a time with his relatives 
 
 "^ in Dundee, but who they were, or in what particular part 
 
 of the town they resided, is not mentioned. These facts 
 
 were worthy, I thought, of consideration and research. 
 
 To their elucidation I have therefore devoted considerable 
 
 time and labour, and, if 1 have been able to throw 
 
 some light upon an interesting period of the Poet's life, 
 
 I will feel amply rewarded. 
 
 410740
 
 IV PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 I take this opportunity of expressing my gratitude to 
 those parties who have kindly supplied me with informa- 
 tion, and who have done everything in their power to 
 flicilitate my inquiries. I am particularly indebted to Mr 
 Charles C. ]Max\vell for the beautiful and fitting tribute 
 to the memoi'Y of the great poet and humorist prefixed to 
 the volume; and to Mr A. H. ]\Iillar, F.S.A., for his 
 researches on my behalf in Edinburgh and London. 
 
 I have also to accord my thanks to Miss ELIZABETH 
 Hood, Dundee, for supplying me with a number of holo- 
 graph letters, written by the Poet to his friends in Tayport ; 
 to Mr David Eollo of Bloomfield, Lochee, and his brothers 
 h)YL^^:sTER, George, and Norman, representatives of the 
 late Mr George Hair Rollo of Hairfield, Lochee, for' 
 allo"\\ang me to have access to the correspondence which 
 took place between him and HoOD, as well as for 
 permission to publish "The Bandit"; to Mr FiXLAY MiLN 
 of Hoylake, Cheshire, for the letter relating to the "Dundee 
 Guide"; and, in conclusion, I beg to acknowledge the great 
 kindness I have received from Mv A. C. Lamb, Mr James 
 Alexander, Dundee, Mr Pearson, Kegistrar, Errol, and 
 
 others. 
 
 A. E. 
 
 Lochee, December 1885.
 
 ^1 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 
 There are some authors who enjoy while they yet live 
 the full measure of then* fame, which after generations 
 may lessen or even extinguish ; there are others who are 
 never truly appreciated till they are gone, and whose 
 reputation rises with the lapse of time. THOiiAS Hood, 
 who " sang the Song of the Shirt," is one of these, for 
 year by year his name grows in favour, and his works 
 in populai-ity. Nor is this to be wondered at, smce his 
 qualities as a Poet and Humorist were so high, his motives 
 so worthy, his sympathies so true and keen ; while his 
 command over the springs both of tears and laughter was 
 complete and irresistible. The most remarkable feature in 
 his writings, as a whole, is their unique combination of 
 wit and tenderness, of gaiety and wisdom, of pmis and 
 pathos. And herem they are a faithful reflex of his life, 
 which, although one long struggle with ill health and 
 adverse fortune, Avas yet full of that " sweetness and 
 light" which Philosophy and Keligion alike commend. 
 To give some idea of the physical weakness and pain 
 which it was his lot to bear, I quote from a letter by his 
 physician to his wife, five years before he died : — " Your
 
 VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 liusbaiicl," he writes, " is suftering from organic disease of 
 the heart, and liemorrhage fi-oni the lungs, or spitting of 
 blood, occnrring very frequently. There is also disorder 
 of the liver and stomach. These diseases have been 
 greatly aggravated of late years by the necessity, which 
 I understand has existed, that he should at all times con- 
 tiinie his literary labours. You have seen him break 
 down under the struggle, and reduced to the brink of the 
 gi'ave by repeated attacks of bleeding from the lungs, 
 attended by palpitation of the heart." Reflecting on the 
 gi'avity of these words, need we wonder that Thomas 
 Hood died at the comparatively early age of forty-seven? 
 We may wonder rather that he lived even so long; still 
 more, that he achieved so much sterling work of brain 
 and hand ; and, most of all, that he preserved amid his 
 many troubles such strong sympathies, — such kindly cheer- 
 fulness. A hero, we may well call him ; — a hero, witli 
 pale cheek and feeble frame, yet of vigorous mind, higli 
 thoughts, and a brave heart withal. 
 
 Concerning such a man, surely anything fresh and 
 authentic will not be unwelcome, and I therefore heartily 
 commend this volume to the favourable attention of the 
 reader. It contains a minute account of Hood's residence 
 in Scotland at an early and interesting period of his life ; 
 together with a ninnber of characteiistic Letters ; and an 
 original Poem fi-om his pen hitherto known to but a few 
 — all published here for the first time. For the privilege 
 thus offered of penising these we are indebted to tlie
 
 INTRODUCTIOX. Vll 
 
 perseverance of Mr Alexander Elliot. Inspired solely by 
 ardent admiration for a true genius, Mr Elliot, with patience 
 and industry, has traced the footsteps of TllOMAS HoOD 
 through those dim and distant years, and ii) the follow- 
 ing pages he offers the result of his investigations. It is, 
 1 think, a creditable record of facts worthy of note, and 
 documents worthy of study ; and I most willingly do what 
 I can to help and to advocate a real labour of love by 
 writing these introductory lines. 
 
 C. C. MAXWELL. 
 • Dundee, Decemler 1885.
 
 J?0 
 
 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introductory — The Hood Family ; their connection with Errol, in Carse of Gowrie 
 — Thomas Hood the elder ; his Birth, Education, and Apprenticeship as 
 a Bookseller in Dinidee — His subsequent residence in London — His Career 
 as a Publisher — and Death — Sketches of the Poet's Uncles, Robert and George, 
 and of his Aunt Jane — Anecdote of George — Curious Story of a Ring. 
 
 In the domain of Euglisli literature there are few poets 
 better known, more generally read, or, from the brightness 
 of his wit, the geniality of his never-flagging humour, and 
 the breadth of his sympathies, more justly admired than 
 Thomas Hood. In him are centred all the elements of the 
 genuine Englishman ; and if he satirized weaknesses and 
 foibles, he did so in a broad, hearty English way. If he 
 bit hard upon characteristic follies and infirmities, he was 
 actuated by unfailing good nature. He loved his country- 
 men too well to insult them. He might occasionally, in 
 holding the mirror up to Nature, turn the glass upside 
 down; but in the end he was sure to put it right again. 
 Hood revelled m fun and humour. He could not divest 
 himself of their entanglements, and the rich stream came
 
 10 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 bubbling up, free and luirestrained, from an inexhaustible 
 Avell of drollery. 
 
 As a punster, Hood was the greatest of his own or of 
 any other period, and it is impossible to divest om- 
 language of the happy (piips and cranks into which he 
 often contorted it. The brilliancy of his merry fancy will 
 never grow dim, nor the glad thoughts which turned 
 melancholy into laughter become stale. He was a 
 literary gem of many facets. In one page he is sharp 
 and sparkling, and scintillates with the brilliance of Sterne. 
 Turn over the leaf, and he changes into the piquancy of 
 Fielding and Smollett, tinted, perhaps, with a Hogartliian 
 hue. Hood was a devoted student and admirer of the 
 satiiists of the Queen Anne era, and his Avritings, to some 
 extent, are a reflex of theirs, set off with the broad fanciful 
 comicality of a gifted, intellectual Grimaldi — grotesquely 
 funny, but intensely real. His true sphere was that of a 
 Inmioiist, surpassing, in some aspects, even that of Lamb, 
 Dickens, or Thackeray. Of him Walter Savage Landor 
 wrote : — 
 
 " Jealous, I own it, I was once, — 
 That wickedness I liere renounce. 
 I tiled at wit .... it would not do; 
 At tenderness .... tliut failed me too — 
 Before me on each i)ath there stood 
 The witty and the tender Hood ! " 
 
 Hood was an accomplished versifier, and he instinc- 
 tively adopted rhyme as the medium most suitable for 
 tlie felicitous expression of his thoughts. His best and
 
 THE HOOD FAMH^Y. 11 
 
 wittiest efiusiuns are therefore couehed in verse. \\ it, 
 with fun and banter as attending satelHtes, hursts from 
 every page and ripples hi every hue. But liis genius 
 was twofohl, and the great jester has given abundant 
 evidence that he couhl step from the arena of livehest 
 satire to dally with the Muse in sentimental vein. The 
 " Plea of the Midsummer Fairies " alone would have 
 brought him into prominence as a poet ; and those re- 
 markable productions, " The Bridge of Sighs," " The Dream 
 of Eugene Aram," and "The Song of the Shirt," have 
 made his name a household word wherever the English 
 language is spoken. 
 
 The poet, by inheritance, was a man of intellect. He 
 belonged to a family Av^hose mental capacities were above 
 the average. He,, it is true, was pre-eminently gifted, 
 but it is known that his father, his uncle Robei-t, and his 
 brother James, were endowed with abilities of a very 
 high order. 
 
 Rossetti, one of Hood's biographers, in an able critical 
 notice of the poet's life and works, parodies a verse from 
 ♦'The Bridge of Sighs," and asks— 
 
 "Who was his father? 
 Who was his mother? 
 Had he a sister? 
 Had he a brother?" 
 
 The latter three questions are fully answered in " The 
 Memorials," an interesting work compiled by Frances 
 Freeling Hood, and Tom Hood, junior, the son and 
 daughter of the poet. But comparatively little reference
 
 12 nnOD I\ SCOTLAND. 
 
 is made to tlieir paternal grancLsire, wlio is described as 
 belonging to Scotland. The place of his bu-th is not 
 given, and the writers seem to have been ignorant of or 
 indiflereut about his connection with the "land of brown 
 heath and shaggy wood." Regarding the poet himself, 
 •• The Memoiials " contain much information. They de- 
 scribe his career from the time he became associated with 
 the London Magazine in 1821, and give particulars of his 
 residence in Coblentz, and subsequently in Ostend. They 
 also relate the circumstance of his return to London, and 
 several of the letters are descriptive of his second visit 
 to Scotland in 1843. And, finally, they tell the sad story 
 of his prolonged illness, ending in his death on od May 
 1845. The references to his youth, the occupations he 
 followed, and his first visit to the north, are, however, 
 vague and unsatisfactory ; and it is with the view of 
 throwing some new light upon these phases of his life 
 that the follo^Amig details have been collected. 
 
 Owing to lapse of time, tJie work of trachig the ante- 
 cedents of the poet has been accompanied with much 
 difficulty. It has, however, been ascertained that the 
 family belonged to the village of Errol, a pretty place, 
 situated on the north bank of the Tay, and lying about 
 midway between Perth aiid Dundee. The name of Hood 
 was common in the district, and people of that designa- 
 tion resided for generations in the adjohiing villages of 
 Inchture, Abeniyte, Baledgarno, and Invergowrie. The 
 members of the branch to whicli Thomas Hood the elder 
 belonged were engaged in agricultural pursuits. The 
 father and mother are said to have been hardworkinsr
 
 THE HOOD FAMILY. 13 
 
 people, who, upon what would now be considered a 
 pittance, brought up their family in a manner which 
 enabled most of them to lise to good worldly positions. 
 Of the father all that can be learned is, that he was 
 an honest, painstaking man. The mother, on the 
 other hand, is described as being a woman of distinctive 
 traits of character, in which, it is said, the humorous was 
 conspicuously prominent. She lived to a ripe old age. 
 Their flimily consisted of five sons and one daughter. 
 These were Thomas, the poet's father, Robert, Peter, 
 James, George, and Jean. Their youth was spent in Errol, 
 and they received a homely education at the village school. 
 Thomas and Robert were studious young men; Peter has 
 sunk into oblivion; James became a shopkeeper; and 
 George, avIio was the youngest, was what the Scotch 
 people call " halliket." Whilst liis brothers were busy 
 with their books he was roystering in the woods or 
 taken up Avith play. The sister, Jean, who was afterwards 
 married to Captain Keay, a well-known Dundee skipper, 
 filled an honourable position for a number of years in the 
 family of Mr Kinnear of Lochton, to whom the Hoods 
 were remotely related. 
 
 Thomas, on leaving school, was sent to Dundee, where 
 he was bound apprentice to a bookseller. Although every 
 endeavour has been made to find out the name of his 
 apprentice master, the search has resulted in failure. 
 Robert struggled hard to qualify himself for the ministry. 
 His scholastic attainments brought him into notice, and 
 Admiral Dmican, who afterwards became the hero of 
 Camperdown, engaged him as tutor to a member of his
 
 14 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 family, a position -whicli he retained till he was compelled 
 to relinquish it from failing health. The yomig man was 
 held in much favour by the Camperdown family. On 
 leaving, he received from the Admiral a set of silver garter 
 and shoe buckles as marks of esteem, and the family pre- 
 sented him with a Bible and silver pencil-case. At his 
 death he bequeathed these highly-prized souvenirs to his 
 sister, ^Irs Keay, at whose house in Dundee he expired 
 about the end of last century. When Hood visited her in 
 Tayport in 1843, she gave the silver pencil-case to " Tom 
 Junior," who accompanied his father, j\Irs Keay being 
 desirous that the gift should be preserved as a memento 
 of the honour which had been confen-ed upon her brother 
 by a family of distinction. She died in 1851, and 
 the remainder of these valued souvenirs were divided 
 amongst her relatives. The Bible and three of the buckles 
 were forwarded to friends in London, whilst the fourth 
 buckle was presented to Miss Isabella Hood, who Avaited 
 upon Mrs Keay duiing her last illness. 
 
 No information can be obtained about Peter; but there 
 are people still alive who remember James, a "douce, 
 canny man," retailing provisions — oatmeal in particular — 
 in his little shop fronting High Street, En-ol. 
 
 George, who to the end of his life was a plain, though 
 somewhat eccentric man, learned the useful but prosaic 
 business of saddler. He became an expert Avorkman, and, 
 as an old Carse fanner remarked, " His steeks (stitches) 
 held thegither as lang as leather wad last I" He com- 
 bined another profession with saddlery — that of butcher. 
 Thus, wdien work at one branch failed, he followed the 
 other. In the long run the latter had a preference. It
 
 THE HOOD FAMILY. 15 
 
 was then, and still is, customary for saddlers to trudge 
 fi'om one farm to another, where they are employed in 
 mending harness and doing- other odd jobs. This occupa- 
 tion is far from being agreeable ; and George, to lead a 
 more comfortable life, opened a shop for the retail of 
 butcher meat in the prmcipal thoroughfare in En-ol. He 
 followed that business for many a day, and seems to have 
 prospered. Throughout the " kintra side " he was known 
 as a " gear gatherin' carle, who keepit a gey hard grip o' 
 the bawbees." That is a charactenstic of many Scotchmen. 
 Several amushig anecdotes are related of this peculiar indi- 
 vidual. From his singular ways he was regarded as a 
 " character," and his sayings and doings are still recorded 
 by the people. As an evidence of his habits, the following- 
 incident is related. One day, while Avalking near the 
 village, he espied a calf lying dead in a field. Without 
 any consideration for the rights of property, he determmed 
 to appropriate the defunct animal to his own uses and 
 purposes. He knew it was imfit for human food, but his 
 conscience was pliable, and caused him no inconvenience. 
 After a little consideration, he resolved to wait till 
 twihght, thinking he could carry the calf into Errol 
 without attracting much attention. Accordingly, when 
 gloammg set in, he lifted the carcase upon his shoulders 
 and wended his way homewards. But the " best laid 
 schemes o' mice and men gang- aft agley." He would 
 have escaped detection had he been discreet. His inten- 
 tion was to delude, as he thought, the good people of 
 the village, and to induce them to suppose that the 
 animal was alive. He therefore entered Errol imitating 
 the bleat of a calf, and crying -'Beh, bch, beh!" as he
 
 16 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 limped along, for he was lame. Geordie's ruse, however, 
 did not succeed. The villagers were too 'cute to be 
 mystified. They saw thu drift of the butcher's strategy, 
 so they gathered around him, and laughed and hallooed 
 till he reached his shop, the young folks crying "Beh, 
 bell," all the way. The joke was too good to be lost, 
 and for years after the youngsters took pleasure in tanta- 
 lizing him, whenever he made his appearance, by imitating 
 the bleat of a calf. George was married, but matrimony 
 weighed heavily upon him. He was unhappy, and a 
 separation became inevitable. His wife, who belonged to 
 Brechin, returned to her native place, and the family, of 
 whom there were five, were scattered. ]\Iary remained 
 with the father; Annie and Catherine settled in Coupar- 
 Angus, Annie subsequently being married to a man named 
 Ciichton ; whilst Robert and Peter followed their mother 
 to Brechin. Robert, who was brought up as a farmer, 
 tenanted the farm of ^^x'llbank, in the vicinity of Broughty 
 FeiTy, and afterwards that of Crudie Acres, near Arbroath, 
 in which latter place he died at an advanced age. 
 ]\Iary, George's favourite daughter, who was married to 
 Charles Jackson, a sawyer, in comfortable circumstances in 
 EiTol, still lives in the remembrance of many of the people 
 of the Carse of GoAvrie. Imbued with a share of her 
 fathers peculiaiity of temper, she was kindhearted and 
 generous withal. She died at Errol a few years ago. 
 
 When Thomas Hood's apprenticeship expii-ed, he left 
 Dundee with tlie determination of trying his fortune in 
 London. He was accompanied by Patrick Gardiner, a 
 distant relative and companion, who also came from the 
 Carse, his father being tenant of the farm of Plains of
 
 THE HOOD FAMH^Y. 17 
 
 EiTol. Pie had learned tlie grocery biisiiie.SB in Dundee, 
 and, wishing to gain experience, with the view of returning 
 to Scotland to start on his own account, he resolved to 
 spend some time in the metropolis. Hood obtained em- 
 ployment in one of the large publishing houses, where he 
 remained for several years. Subsequently he entered into 
 partnership with j\Ir Vernor, and established a publishing 
 business at No. 31 The Poultry, the title of tlie firm 
 being " Vernor & Hood." They prospered, and ere long 
 were entrusted with the publication of works of a high 
 literary standard. Tliey issued " The Lady's Monthly 
 Museum," a magazine which became popular amongst 
 ladies, to whose interests it was devoted. The contents 
 were select, and, as the sub-title states, consisted of 
 "Amusement and Instruction, being an Assemblage of 
 whatever could tend to please the Fancy, interest the 
 T\Iind, or Exalt the Character of the British Fair." It was 
 projected by a Society of Ladies, who exercised a rigid 
 censorship over its tone and sentiment. The " ]\Iuseimi " 
 met with approval, and was successfully conducted for 
 several years. It was well got up, and deserved the 
 popularity it enjoyed. Mr Hood presented a complete 
 set of the ]\Iagazine, bound in yearly volumes, to his 
 sister ]\Irs Keay, a gift of which she was very proud. 
 The volumes for 1800 and 1801, of this set, are in 
 possession of a lady in Droughty Ferry. He also pub- 
 lished two novels w^ritten by himself. Although a minute 
 search has been made to ascertain their titles, we have 
 failed to discover them. 
 
 A notable incident occurred in the history of the firm. 
 Sir John Carr, who at one time had been an attorney in 
 3
 
 1» HOOD I\ SCOTLAND. 
 
 Doi-setshire, attracted attention by the publication of a 
 series of traA'els ot" a light, gossipy nature. While in 
 Ireland he was knighted by the Duke of Bedford, who 
 was then Lord Lieutenant. In 180G Sir John published 
 " The Stranger in L-eland.*'- The peculiarities in the 
 volume caused a good deal of comment, and a witty 
 jeu d' esprit, bearhig the title of " ]My Pocket Book," 
 severely satirized the traveller. The Knight was indig- 
 nant, and instituted an action for damages against 
 the publishers, Messrs Vernor & Hood, who were 
 described by the opposing counsel as " very opulent 
 booksellers, and carrying on great trade in the metro- 
 polis." The case was tried before Lord Ellenborough, but 
 the jury, Avithout retiring, brought in a verdict of " not 
 guilty." "My Pocket Book" was written by Mr E. Dubois, 
 a barrister of the Temple, but it was said that ]\Ir Hood 
 assisted materially in its literary concoction. A report of 
 the trial was written by Hood and published by the firm. 
 It contained a number of illustrations, and enioved con- 
 siderable popularity. "With regard to Sir John, he is 
 characterized by Byron, in some suppressed stanzas of 
 "Childe Harold," as "green Erin's knight and Europe's 
 wandering star." 
 
 The busmess of Hood and his partner increased rapidly, 
 and ere long a Mr Sharpe was assumed as junior member 
 of the firm, which was afterwards known by the title of 
 " Vernor, Hood, & Shai-pe." Thomas Hood devoted himself 
 closely to business, and his assiduity and energy soon 
 enabled him to settle down for life. He married a 
 daughter of Mr Sands, a well-known metropolitan engraver. 
 The union, otherwise a very liappy one, was marred by a
 
 THE HOOD fa:mily. 19 
 
 sorrowful Might. Their children were born to an heir- 
 dom of delicate health. Several died in infancy, and 
 those who were spared had their existence overshadowed 
 hy the direst ills that can afHict humanity. The eldest 
 son, James, a young man giving promise of a Ijright 
 career, died prematurely at the residence of his uncle at 
 Sandhurst ; and it was while on a visit to his bedside 
 that the father caught the illness which I'csulted in his 
 death, an event which took place in the autumn of 1811. 
 The father and son died about the same time ; and it is 
 stated in the " Memorials" that, at this date, Thomas, the 
 second son, was the only male member of the family left 
 to comfort his widowed mother. 
 
 That My Hood was a man of ability is a fact which no 
 one will seek to dispute. It is shown by the manner in 
 which he assisted in conducting the business of the firm 
 and the honourable position to which he raised himself in 
 society. Mr Hessey, a contemporary, speaks of him as an 
 honest, upright man, and it is to be regretted that so few 
 details can be obtained of his career. While collecting- 
 information about the Hood family generally, every endea- 
 vour was made to find out the exact date of the elder 
 Hood's birth. The little that the old people in Errol and 
 other parts of the Carse of Gowrie could tell of the family 
 has been related, but they had not the remotest idea of 
 the year when Thomas was born. The parish registers 
 of last century are stored in the Register House in Edin- 
 burgh, and it was hoped that the desired information 
 might be obtained from that source. The records for 
 Errol were therefore minutely searched by an expert, 
 who took a range of dates, starting from 1760, and
 
 20 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 extending onwards for several years, Ijut no trace of 
 Thomas Hood's birth could be found. The registers of 
 the adjoining parishes of liichture, Abernyte, and Baled- 
 garno, were also subjected to close scrutiny. The name 
 of Hood was common in these places during last century, 
 but the surname of Thomas does not appear amongst 
 them. So anxious was the Avriter to obtain evidence of 
 Tliomas Hood's birth that he visited the churchyard of 
 Tayport, where he presumed the remains of ]\lrs Keay, his 
 sister, were interred, in the hope that if the date of her 
 birtli was inscribed on the tombstone — a practice common 
 in some parts of the country— he might have an approxi- 
 mate idea of the time when her brother was Ijorn. It was 
 oidy after he had patiently read every inscription, that he 
 was informed that she was not buried in Tayport, but in 
 the old Howff at Dundee, and that the names of the whole 
 of her family were insciibed upon the headstone there, 
 with the exception of her own, Avhicli had been omitted. 
 An examination of the Howff was next made, and after a 
 long and weary search in tliat ancient place of sepulture, 
 the headstone of David Keay and his family Avas dis- 
 covered. It was too true — the date of Jean Hood's death 
 is unrecorded. She was the last of her generation, and the 
 inscription had been neglected. The hope of getting the 
 coveted date Avas therefore extinguislied, and we exclaimed, 
 in the words of an epitaph in a clnu'chyard in Dunkekl — 
 
 " Here Eppie lies — here or hereabout ; 
 Whaur Eppie lies there's nane can find it out — 
 Wliaur Eppie lies there's naebody can tell 
 Till the resurrection day, when Eppie 'ill rise hersel' !" 
 
 I
 
 THE HOOD FAMILY. 21 
 
 But accident determined otherwise, as the sequel will 
 
 sllOAV. 
 
 Several months afterwards, the writer w^as told that if 
 he called at the farm of Crudie Acres at Arbroath the 
 tenant might he able to give some information about the 
 family of George Hood. A visit was therefore paid to 
 that place on a hot, broiling day. It was labour in 
 vain. All that tlie farmer was able to tell Avas that 
 Robert Hood was liis predecessor, that his fore-bears 
 were natives of Errol. and that Peter Hood, his surviving 
 son, had at one time been employed as a ploughman on 
 a neighbouring "steading" some distance off. Thither he 
 went and saw the farmer's lady, who stated that the man 
 of whom he was in search had left long ago, and she 
 was ignorant of his whereabouts. The lady had heard 
 that he was employed as a labourer in Arbroath, but 
 could not indicate any part of the town Avhere he could 
 be found. As to Hood, the poet, she had never even 
 heard of him. Such is fame ! 
 
 Far from being discouraged, the AAaiter turned to the 
 highway, and, after a smart walk, reached Arbroath. 
 Here another source of annoyance awaited him. The 
 annual holidays were being observed. The most of the 
 shops were closed. Everybody wlio could afford it was 
 off by rail, and those Avho could not were enjoying them- 
 selves on the breezy Cliffs. Still, nil desperandum. Every 
 man who had the faintest semblance to a labourer was 
 accosted, and asked if he knew- Peter Hood, and, if so, 
 where did he live, and what did he do. ]\Iany were the 
 cogitations and scratchings of the head. Some said that 
 a Hood lived here, others that another lived there, and
 
 22 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 several intimated that he lived " over yonder." But none 
 of them bore the name of Peter. For several hours he 
 perambulated the dusty streets, squares, and alleys of the 
 good toAvn, and came within the shadow of the old Abbey 
 several times, his inquiries always proving- provokingly 
 fruitless. Fatigued and footsore he was about to give up 
 the search, when he espied a dustman, Avho was busy 
 with his broom, in the middle of the street. Dustmen are 
 shrewd observers, and are generally well versed in the 
 locale of the people. AVhen asked if he knew Peter Hood, 
 he lifted his head, laid hi.s Ijrooni over the spokes of his 
 "wheel-barrow, ceremoniously wiped his brow, and, taking 
 a pinch of snuff, answered laconically, " Od, ay, niin ; he 
 lives awa' up there a wee bit," and pointed with a dirty, 
 begrimed finger to a thoroughfare some distance off. 
 " He 's a cairter, an' that "s a' I kin tell ye." Bending his 
 back, he resumed his broom, and Avas soon enveloped 
 in a cloud of dust. A clue at last. A gentleman w^ho 
 heard the inquiry soon showed where Peter resided, in 
 St Vigeans Road. "With a sigh of relief the inquirer 
 rapped at the door. Another disappointment. Peter was 
 from home ; he w^as out on the Chffs, but was expected 
 to dinner. A patient wait of three-quarters of an hour, 
 and he was at last found at his own fireside. 
 
 A plain, quiet, decent, "liame owre" man he is. He 
 was able to give a good deal of information about 
 " Geordie Hood," his grandfather, Islary Hood, his aunt, 
 and several C)f his other relatives ; but when questioned 
 about Hood the poet, he looked up Avith a puzzled ex- 
 pression in his face, and frankly admitted that he had 
 never heard of his celebrated relative. He added, how-
 
 THE TTOOD FA:MrLY. 23 
 
 ever, that hu had always thought that some of his friends 
 
 • 
 
 were "jewellers, or something of that sort," in London, 
 because when Mrs Keay, his grandaunt, died, she left 
 him a valuable gold ring, which he produced for examina- 
 tion. The design is antique, and the ring has been well 
 worn. The signet, which is fully larger than the ordinary 
 size, is reversible. On one side are two locks of hair, black 
 and golden, neatly plaited, encased in a setting of turquois 
 stones. On the other side the follo^^^ng words are inscribed: 
 — " Thos. Hood, ob. 20th Aug. 1811; ie 52." The engraving 
 has been skilfully executed, the lettering being inlaid in 
 gold upon a ground of black enamel. It is needless to 
 say with what astonishment and pleasure the inscription 
 was read. The search for the year of Thomas Hood's 
 birth, painstaking as it had been, had ended in failure. 
 Now, here was the date, by an accidental circumstance, 
 thrown in our way, while inquiries were being made 
 about matters relating altogether to another member of 
 the Hood family. The date of his death, as shown 
 on the ring, corresponds Avith the date given in the 
 '• Memorials," thus showing its genuineness. His age is 
 stated to be 52 years, and the year of his death 1811. 
 This will give 1759 as the year of his birth. The hoop 
 is above the average size ; but IMrs Keay, who wore it in 
 remembrance of her brother, Avas a stout, portly woman, 
 and required a ring of more than ordinary dimensions to 
 fit her finger. 
 
 In the examination of the Register of the Parish of 
 Errol, the range Avas taken from 1760, a year after the 
 date on the ring. The discovery of the ring led to the 
 expectation that the date might yet be found amongst
 
 24 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 the documents in the Register Honse, and another exami- 
 nation of the Parish Records of Errol was made, embracing 
 the years 1758, 1759, and 17G0. The result was again 
 disappointing. In order to give full scope to the search, a 
 gentleman in Edinburgh who had taken an interest in the 
 matter made another minute investigation of the Register 
 of Errol. He found, as before, that the name of Hood 
 was common in Errol and adjoining i:)arishes, but it was 
 borne by families different from that of which he was in 
 search. This gentleman, however, observed an entry in 
 the Register to the effect that, owing to the deatli of the 
 Rev. George Wemyss, on Gtli July 1758, there was a 
 vacancy in the parish till 7th June 1759, Avhen the Rev. 
 J. .Jol)Son was appointed to the charge. During the in- 
 terval several children were baptized in neighbouring 
 paiishes ; and as the clerk had not been informed of their 
 names, they were consequently omitted from the church 
 records. As Thomas Hood Avas Ijorn at tliis date, it is 
 probable that the entry of his baptism had been neglected. 
 In olden times the people were not so particular in record- 
 ing advents into and exits from the world as those of the 
 present day.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Hood's Birth — Variations in Date — His Boyhood— His Sketching Proclivities — 
 Straitened circumstances of his Mother — Obtains employment as a Clerk — 
 111 Healtli — Discrepancies in Biograjthies — Apprenticed to Engi-aving — Change 
 of Air and Scene prescribed — Sent to Scotland — His Arrival— Search for 
 Lodgings — Resides in Newi>ort — Boatmen of the Tay — Trips to Stobhall, 
 Perthshire — The Poet and the Pony — Jessie Kcay — Tantalizes his Annt — 
 Separation, 
 
 Thomas Hood the poet was the second surviving son 
 of Tliomas Hood the pubHsher who is referred to in the 
 foregoing chapter. According to his son and daughter, 
 he was born in the Poultry, London, in the closing year 
 of the last century. It is somewhat strange that, as in 
 the case of the birth of his father, a doubt should exist 
 as to the exact date. Yet such is the fact. Several 
 biographers give 1798 as the year. This is notable in 
 Chambers's " Cyclopccdia of English Literature " ; and, in 
 the notice of Hood in the " Encyclopaedia Britannica," 
 1789 is recorded as the date of birth. It is evidently a 
 misprint, and the transposition of the two last figures 
 would make the date the same as that stated by Cliambers.
 
 26 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 On the other hand, it i.s related in the "Memorials" that 
 he was born on 23d May 1799, and other biographers 
 accept this statement as correct. 
 
 As it was important to obtain the correct date, the 
 registrar or clerk of the parishes in which the Poultry is 
 situated was applied to. He kindly responded to the 
 inquiries, and made repeated searches amongst his records, 
 Init his efforts resulted in failure. On 29tli September of 
 this year he Avrote : "I have had search made in the 
 Registers of St. Mildred, ])ut can find no entry of the 
 Ijirth t)f Thomas Hood." On 3d October he again wrote : 
 "A further and very careful search has been made in 
 Registers of St. Mildred, Poultry, for a few years before 
 and after 1799, but they contain no entry of the baptism 
 of Hood." And lastly, on the 9th of the same month, in 
 reply to another query, he wrote : " AVhilst searching the 
 Register of St. ]\lildred, we took the opportunity of 
 searching that of St. Mary, Colechurch, also, the only other 
 parish connected with the Poultry, and did so for some 
 years on either side of the date named by you. We have 
 had much pleasure in assisting you, and regret the search 
 has been unsuccessful." One would have thought that a 
 man holding the social position of the elder Hood would 
 liave been careful to see that the births of the chfferent 
 members of his family were correctly entered in the 
 registers of the parishes in wliicli they were born. This 
 duty, however, has been omitted, so far as the poet is 
 concenied ; and the exact year of his ])irt]i, we are afraid, 
 will remain a doubtful point, imless cleared up by some 
 unforeseen circumstance, as in the case of the father.
 
 hood's boyhood. 27 
 
 The little that is known of his boyhood shows that the 
 child Avas fjither to the man, and that he gave early 
 evidence of the talents which distinguished him in after 
 life and made him famous. He was "singular, silent, and 
 retired, with much quiet humour," relieved with occasional 
 bursts of boyish fun, in which he tells us his sisters took 
 part. He began early to sketch. He could not fail to do 
 so ; his brother was an adept, and no doubt he Avould 
 frequently visit his grandfather's workrooms, Avhere all 
 branches of engraving would be in full operation. With 
 these opportunities for observation, a lad with the natural 
 aptitude of Hood would soon acquire a knowledge of the 
 rudiments of the art, — an accomplishment which became 
 second nature to him in after life. 
 
 At the death of his father he Avas, according to the 
 "Memorials," about twelve years of age, and, his mother 
 having been left in straitened circumstances, he resolved 
 to provide in a small way for his own support. The 
 resolution was characteristic. From that time till death 
 fell upon him he acted independently, and worked for his 
 last meal. Through the influence of a friend of the 
 family, he obtained employment as a clerk in the counting- 
 house of a city merchant. His son and daughter seem 
 to doubt this. In the " Memorials," they give his first 
 occupation as that of an engraver, stating that he "pre- 
 ferred the drudgery of an engraver's desk to encroaching 
 upon the small f\imily store." Hood, however, gives a 
 too circumstantial account of his early acquaintance with 
 a merchant's office to permit us to ignore the fact. In 
 his introduction to the first instalment of the "Remi- 
 niscences," in " Hood's Own," he says :
 
 28 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 " Time was, I sat upon a lofty stool, 
 At lofty desk, and Avitli a clerkly pen 
 Began each morning, at tlic stroke of ten, 
 To write in Bell & Co.'s commercial school ; 
 In Warnford Court, a shady nook and cool. 
 The favourite retreat of merchant men ; 
 Yet would my quill turn vagrant even then, 
 And take stray dips in the Castalian pool. 
 Now double-entry — now a flowery trope — 
 Mingling poetic honey with trade wax — 
 Blogg, Brothers — Milton — Grote and Prescott — Pope — 
 Bristles — and Hogg — Glyn Mills and Halifax — 
 Rogers — and Towgood — Hemp — the Bard of Hope — 
 Barilla — Byron — Tallow — Burns — and Flax ! " 
 
 "My commercial career," he continues, "was a brief one, 
 and deserved only a sonnet in commemoration. The 
 fault, however, lay not with the Muses. To commit 
 poetry, indeed, is a crime ranking next to forgery in the 
 counting-house code ; and an ode or a song dated 
 Copthall Court would be as certainly noted and protested 
 
 as a dishonoured bill The principal of our firm, 
 
 on the contrary, had a turn for belles lettres, and would 
 have winked with both eyes at verses Avhich did not 
 intnade into an invoice, or confuse then" figures with those 
 of the ledger." These explicit remarks not only confirm 
 the assertion that he was engaged in a mercantile occu- 
 pation, but at the same time give a glimpse into the 
 scribbling propensities of his youth. But office life was 
 not for him. He was a tender plant, requiring sunshme 
 and freedom ; and his sensitive, fragile constitution soon
 
 ILL HEALTH. 29 
 
 became affected by the close atmosphere of the comiting 
 room. He persevered, but the confinemeut contiiiuiug to 
 liave a prejudicial eftect upon his system, he was com- 
 pelled to relinquish a situation which, perhaps, was 
 unsaited to his temperament and tastes. 
 
 As a restorative, he was ordered by his physician a 
 thorough change of air and scene. It is to be observed 
 that at this point the story of his life as told in the 
 " ]\Iemorials," and the narrative written by himself in the 
 "Reminiscences," do not coincide. Hood's son and daughter 
 suppress his mercantile occupation, and state that the 
 cause of his ill health arose from " the sedentary employ- 
 ment of engraving." Could they be ignorant of the fact 
 that he had been employed as a merchant's clerk, and 
 conclude that being engaged in such a capacity was 
 only a medium for perpetrating one of his jokes? They 
 do not appear to have put themselves to the trouble of 
 ascei-tammg. 
 
 When the "Memorials" were compiled, the poet's sisters 
 were alive ; and Elizabeth, a shrewd though peculiar 
 woman, could have enlightened them upon their father's 
 first occupation. Hood, on the other hand, ignores his 
 connection with engraving, and one would tlnnk, while 
 reading his "Reminiscences," that he had proceeded direct 
 from the merchant's desk and shipped forthwith for the 
 North. Why should these discrepancies exist? Hood 
 when he wrote the Remmiscences had reached middle 
 life. He had passed through ordeals Avhich Avould have 
 tested the strength of constitutions stronger flu- than his. 
 For years he had been harassed by sickness, trouble, and 
 worry — both mental and physical. He had been inter-
 
 30 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 mittciitly prostrated by the disease which had haunted 
 him from his youth. A Hfe that would otherwise have 
 been briglit and sunny, was obscured by unwholesome 
 clouds of " cankered care." It is probable, therefore, that, 
 tln-ough a derangement of memory, caused by overwork 
 and illness, he may unwittingly have omitted to mention 
 his connection with the art of engraving, his mind dwelling 
 naturally upon the occupation Avith which he was first 
 associated, and in the prosecution of which he was so early 
 stricken with ill health. With regard to the omission in 
 the " ]\Iemorials " of any reference to his short mercantile 
 career, it may be observed that the poet's family, to judge 
 from the meagre account they give of their father's boy- 
 hood, seem to have had comparatively little knowledge 
 of hi.s parents; and from his tendency to indulge in 
 banter, appear to have looked upon his employment as a 
 merchant's clerk, not so much as a fiction, but as a mis- 
 leading and good-humoured joke. 
 
 But, setting these discrepancies aside, let us follow out 
 the general line of his career. When he recovered from 
 the illness which compelled him to leave the employment 
 of Messrs Bell & Co., he went to learn the art of engrav- 
 ing with his uncle, Robert Sands. He was, it is presumed, 
 scarcely thirteen years of age Avhen he entered upon 
 his duties, and he seems to have remained at this occu- 
 pation till his health again broke down. It Avas then, 
 it can be inferred, that the doctors were called, and found 
 that "by too mucli sitting lie had hatched a whole brood 
 of complaints." They prescribed a change of air, particu- 
 larly recommending the " bracing breezes of the Nortli."
 
 CHANGE OF AIR PRESCRIBED. 31 
 
 We have a picture of liis life at this period. ]\Ir John 
 Wilson, author of a valuable work on the " Antiquities of 
 Clerkenwell," in a letter to the writer, states that his 
 mother and Mrs Hood were on terms of intimacy, and 
 were in the habit of visiting each other. " In 1814," 
 writes I\Ir Wilson, " my mother said to me, ' We will go 
 up to Mrs Hood's and see her.' She lived at Islington 
 Green, in an old brick house, Queen Anne's, quite a day's 
 journey for us. Found ]\Irs H. and Master Thomas at 
 home. I fancy he was sketching. I Avas not much of a 
 judge then — but nine years of age." This visit was paid 
 some time prior to Hood's journey to Scotland, and in 
 all likelihood on a day when illness prevented him at- 
 tending to his duties in his uncle's workshop. The young- 
 man followed the advice of his physicians. The thought 
 of escaping from the turmoil and smoke of the metropolis 
 to inhale the balmy invigorating breezes of the hills and 
 dales of bonnie Scotland would no doubt inspire and 
 elevate his spirits. " Accordingly," he says, *' I Avas soon 
 shipped, as per advice, in a Scotch smack, which ' smacked 
 through the breeze,' as Dibdin sings, so merrily that on 
 the fourth morning we were Avithin sight of the pro- 
 minent Old Steeple of ' Bonnie Dundee ' ! " 
 
 Owing to the lapse of time and the limited acquaint- 
 anceship Hood made, much difficulty has been experi- 
 enced in gathering together details of interest bearing 
 upon his residence in Dundee. All his intimate com- 
 panions are dead, and there are only one or tAvo persons 
 of extreme age Avho recollect anything of his incomings 
 or outgoings. A great deal of patience and care has
 
 32 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 been expended in collecting these stray unrecorded glean- 
 ings in the highways and bywaj^s trodden by the great 
 humorist while a youth. If the task had been longer 
 neglected, those who arc able to throw a little light, how- 
 ever obscure, on an interesting period in the life of this 
 remarkable man, would have passed away. The few who 
 remember him, although bowed down with years, are 
 hale and hearty, and they tell what they know of him in 
 their plain, old-fashioned way. The families of some of 
 the companions of his early days have been visited, to 
 ascertain what then- fathers said of him ; the oldest in- 
 habitants of Errol and the Carse of Gowrie have been 
 interN'iewed ; and persons in remote parts of the country 
 Avho were able to contribute the smallest item of informa- 
 tion upon his youth or early manhood have been com- 
 municated with. These inquiries, meagre and insufficient 
 though they are, have in some respects been satisfactory, 
 as they not only throAv a little new light upon the poet's 
 style of life while he resided in Dundee, but differ on 
 some material points from the narratives in the ''Reminis- 
 cences" and "Memorials." 
 
 Hood, when he left London, sailed on board the 
 trading smack " Union." This vessel, which was owned 
 by the Dundee, Perth, and London Shipping Company, 
 was considered amongst the finest craft which sailed 
 between the Thames and the Tay. Its captain — the late 
 Cliarles Lyon, between whom and Hood there subsisted a 
 steadfast friendship — was exceedingly popular with the 
 public, as well as with the seafaring population. Although, 
 like all true poets, a lover of the picturesque. Hood does 
 not give us his impressionK of the town as he approached
 
 FIRST VISIT TO DUNDEE. 33 
 
 its shores. Perhaps he was too young to appreciate the 
 fine views which the banks of the Tay presented, or he 
 miglit have been suffering from the effects of his voyage. 
 Dundee then was not the smoke-canopied city it now is. 
 It lay in a beautiful hollow ; it was surrounded by attrac- 
 tive scenery; and its margin was laved by a broad, noble 
 river. At that time it well deserved the appellation of 
 " Bonnie Dundee." In after life, when he renewed his 
 visit, he speaks in terms of praise of the beauty of the 
 scenery of the Tay. To the town itself he refers some- 
 what disparagingly. It had undergone a great change 
 when compared witli what it was when he first beheld it. 
 On his first visit it was a quiet, sleepy place, and its inha- 
 bitants douce, canny-going folk. That commercial energy 
 Avhicli afterwards characterized it had not begun to 
 develop. The weaver's shuttle had not given place to the 
 whir of machinery, and the town lay in undisturbed mono- 
 tonous repose. The peoj^le were Scotch to the backbone, 
 and their customs and institutions w^ere " auld farrant " 
 and homely. They followed in the beaten tracks of their 
 sires, the events passing beyond their own quiet homes 
 disturling them but little. Such was the general condition 
 in which Hood found Dundee and its inhabitants. 
 
 When he reached the harbour, he stepped ashore, he 
 says, and trod for the first time " stout and original Scot- 
 land." As we are inclined to differ from the description 
 he gives of his reception, it is perhaps desirable in the 
 first place to quote his own remarks. 
 
 " Like other shipments," he states, " I had been regu- 
 larly addressed to the care of a consignee ; but the latter, 
 not anxious, perhaps, to take charge of a hobbledehoy, 
 5
 
 3-4 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 yet at the same time unwilling- to ineur the reproach of 
 having a relative in the same town and not under the 
 .san^e roof, peremptorily declined the office. Nay, more, 
 .she pronounced against me a capital sentence, so far as 
 returning to the place from whence I came, and even pro- 
 ceeded to bespeak my passage and reship my luggage. 
 Judging from such vigorous measures the temper of my 
 customer, instead of remonstrating I affected resignation, 
 and went with a good grace through the farce of formal 
 leave-taking. I even went on board, but it was in com- 
 pany Avith a stout fellow, who relanded my luggage, and 
 thus while my transporter imagined — good, easy soul ! — 
 that the rejected article Avas sailing round St. Abb's Head, 
 or rolling off the Bass, he Avas actually safe and snug in 
 Dundee, quietly laughing in his sleeve, Avitli the LaAv at 
 his back. I haA^e a confused recollection of meeting, some 
 three or four days after, a female cousin on her road to 
 school, Avho at sight of me turned suddenly round, and 
 galloped off toAA^ards home Avith the speed of a scared 
 heifer. 
 
 "My first concern Avas noAv to look out for some com- 
 fortable roof under Avhicli 'for a consideration' one Avould 
 be treated as one of the family. I accordingly entered 
 into a treaty Avith a respectable AvidoAver, Avho had no 
 sons of his OAvn ; but, in spite of the most undeniable 
 references, and a general accordance as to terms, there 
 occuiTcd a niystenous liitch in the arrangement, aiising 
 from a Avhimsical prepossession — Avhich only came after- 
 Avards to my knoAvledge — namely, that an English laddie, 
 instead of supping pan-itch, Avould inevitably require a 
 rump steak to his breakfast I My next essay Avas more
 
 SEARCH FOR LODGINGS. 35 
 
 successful, and ended in my being regularly installed in a 
 boarding-house, kept by a Scotchwoman, who was not so 
 sure of my being a beef-eater. She was a sort of widow 
 with a seafaring husband ' as good as dead,' and in her 
 appearance not unlike a personification of rouge el noir, 
 with her red eyes, her red face, yellow teeth, and her 
 black velvet cap. The first day of my term hajipened to 
 be also the first day of the New Year ; and on stepping 
 from my bed-room I encountered our hostess — like a witch 
 and her familiar spirit — with a huge bottle of whisky in 
 one hand and a glass in the other. It was impossible to 
 decline the dram she pressed upon me, and very good it 
 proved and undoubtedly strong, seeing that for some time 
 I could only muse its praise in expressive silence, and, 
 indeed, I was only able to speak with 'o small still voice' 
 for several minutes afterwards. Such was my character- 
 istic introduction to the Land of Cakes, where I was 
 destined to spend the greater part of two years under 
 circumstances likely to materially influence the colouring 
 and filling up of my future life." 
 
 Read in the light of inquiries we have made, we would 
 respectfully indicate that there are several passages in the 
 foregoing extracts which Ave think scarcely consistent with 
 correct narration. These discrepancies, perhaps, may be 
 accounted for by the innumerable vicissitudes through 
 which Hood had passed prior to the time he wrote his 
 "Reminiscences." His recollection may have become C021- 
 fused. In a life such as he endured that was probable. 
 Bodily suffering and unremitting strain upon his mental 
 foculties might impair his memory, and tln-ow a dim.
 
 36 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 hazy uncertainty upon the recollection of events which 
 had happened in years past and gone, and which at the 
 time of their occurrence were deemed of slight import- 
 ance. 
 
 There is another and perhaps more tenable reason 
 which might have led Hood to tell the story of his life in 
 his own peculiar way. He was a professional humorist. 
 As such, he was in the habit of looking at things from an 
 inverted, or at least grotesque point of view, and adapt- 
 ing them to suit his whimsical fancy. The conformation 
 of his mind was such that this predilection obtrudes in 
 every possible way. It is quite probable, therefore, that 
 while relating his early experiences he had followed his 
 natural bent, and indulged his love of fun and caricatm*e at 
 the expense of a divergence from strict narrative. 
 
 When Hood arrived in Dundee he was in indifferent 
 health. He Avas suffering from " a whole brood of com- 
 plaints hatched by so much sitting." They were of such 
 a serious character that they required the " bracing breezes 
 of the North" to alleviate or ciu-e. When he landed he 
 proceeded direct to the house of Jean Hood, his paternal 
 aunt, the consignee referred to. He was not rejected, 
 nor was his passage bespoke for reshipment. These were 
 not the days of crack steamboats and raj^id sailing. The 
 smacks of the Dundee and London Shipping Company, 
 although well-appointed vessels, depended, like other 
 saihng craft, upon wind and weather, and oidy left 
 about once a week. Where was the young man to reside 
 during that time, presuming that his luggage was re- 
 shipped and his passage re-taken ? The fact is, there is 
 a tinge of dramatic colouiing in relating his advent to
 
 RESIDES IN NEWPORT. 37 
 
 Scotlund, and it shines out somewhat conspicuous in these 
 quotations. Hood on his arrival took up liis abode Avith 
 Mrs Keay — the Jean Hood spoken of. She had long before 
 become the wife of Captain Keay, the owner and master 
 of the brig "Hope." a well-known trading vessel belong- 
 ing to the port. The captain and his lady resided in a 
 tenement in Nethergate opposite the Old Steeple, the 
 building being pulled down many years ago, to make 
 way for the fine block of dwelling-houses erected by the 
 late Mrs M'Kenzie. Not only was the young man Avell 
 received, but it is averred that he was treated with the 
 utmost indulgence by his aunt. The captain had de- 
 parted on a voyage to Riga, and his wife and family 
 went to summer lodgings in Newport during his absence. 
 Hood was in luck. The village of Newport — now the 
 residence of many of the well-to-do merchants and busi- 
 ness men of Dundee — is situated in a pretty nook on 
 the Fifeshire side of the Tay. In Hood's time the traffic 
 between the two shores was conducted bv means of 
 pmnaces, and the piers at Newport and Dundee were the 
 scenes of continuous stir and bustle. He accompanied his 
 aunt to her summer quarters, and frequent reference is 
 made in the " Reminiscences " to his trips across the river. 
 He soon became a favourite Avith the " guid folk " of Fife. 
 With the boatmen of the Tay Ferries he was speedily on 
 a footing of intimacy, and it was from them he imbibed 
 his lasting love for "the breezes that smack of the ocean 
 brine." The most of the boatmen Avere old man-of-Avar 
 sailors, and had a liking for smartness and tact. The 
 coxsAvain of one of the boats took an especial love for 
 Tom, and seemed to appreciate his exuberant fun. Tom 
 
 410740
 
 38 HOOD IN' SCOTLAND. 
 
 retuniecl the kindly feeling, and immortalized the good 
 natiired "salt" by drawing his portrait. The boatman 
 was in the habit of standing close to his pinnace, looking 
 up the Craig Pier on the watch for late or stray passen- 
 gers. When he saw any one approach, he put his hand 
 to his mouth and shouted with a voice like the tone of a 
 speaking trumpet, "Are ye gaun ower?" meaning, of 
 course, across the river. This euphonious phrase so tickled 
 Hood's fancy that he delineated the sturdy sailor in the 
 act of inviting passengers into his boat to " row them o'er 
 the ferry." The likeness is said to have been a faithful 
 one ; so much so that in after years, when the genial 
 boatman had been rowed over that ferry from which no 
 travellers return, his worthy spouse, Avho survived him, 
 kept it in a conspicuous place in her apartment, and 
 blessed the English laddie whose graphic pencil had 
 enabled her to preserve a memento of her liege lord and 
 master. 
 
 Indeed, so far from being ill-treated or restrained during 
 the first few months of his residence with his aunt, Hood 
 Avas, on the contrary, allowed every latitude. He was 
 introduced to her acquaintances, and his " far awa' Scotch 
 freeuds" gave him a cordial welcome. His father's old 
 friend and companion, Patrick Gardiner, who returned 
 from London in 1808, and settled in Dundee as a grocer, 
 was particularly kind to him. Hood often frequented 
 his shop in Overgate, near Thorter Row. During the fine 
 summer weather, ]\Irs Gardiner paid a visit to her sister- 
 in-law at Stobliall ill Perthshire, and took Hood along 
 with her. AN'heii introduced to the lady at Stobhall, she 
 closely scnitinized his slim, delicate figure, and, turning
 
 VISITS STOBHALL. 39 
 
 to ]\Irs Gardiner, exclaimed, " Losh, woman ! AVliat are 
 ye daein' bringin' tliat laddie np here to dee!" The 
 " laddie " did not " dee," — at all events not till many 
 years after, — l)nt lived to ornament with wit, humom-, 
 and pathos the literature of his country ! He was kmdly 
 treated, and revisited Stobhall several times while residing 
 Avith his relatives in the Carse of Gowrie. Miss Isabella 
 Hood relates that j\Irs Keay came to see her father 
 and mother one day, bringing young Tom Avith her. 
 ]\liss Hood's father was a merchant in ]\Iurraygate. 
 An entry on the north side of that thoroughfare still 
 bears his name. By this time Hood's health was im- 
 proving, and the bracing breezes of the North Avere 
 beginning to make their beneficial influences felt on his 
 constitution. Miss Hood states that he appeared to be m 
 the best of spirits, and full of liveliness and fun. The 
 merchant had a favourite pony, and ere long the pony 
 and Tom were on the best of terms. ]\Iany a scamper 
 they had together over the breezy Wards and goAvany 
 MeadoAvs, and along the bonnie green lanes near the toAvn. 
 Miss Hood, although Avell adA^anced in years, is a very 
 intelligent lady, Avho tells Avitli nmch relish the remem- 
 brances of her "far awa' English freend" in his "roy'd" 
 days. The "female cousin," Avho fled at the sight of him 
 "Avitli the speed of a scared heifer," AA'as Jessie Keay, 
 the youngest daughter of his aunt. She Avas his frequent 
 companion. A lady residing in Springfield, Dundee, dis- 
 tinctly recollects Hood and Jessie Ansiting her parents at 
 their house at foot of Crichton Street. This lady describes 
 him as being a thin, delicate-looking lad, Avho had the 
 appearance of having suffered from prolonged illness.
 
 40 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 Being older by some years, he held the girl by the hand, 
 and seemed to be very happy Math her. It may be stated 
 in passmg that Jessie Keay became an accomplished young 
 woman. She possessed many of her cousin's remarkable 
 talents, although their exercise was confined to the 
 family circle. Falling a victim to the disease Avliich 
 afflicted the Hood family, she died, in her twenty-eighth 
 year, of consumption. 
 
 The foregoing incidents show that, instead of being 
 repudiated by his aunt, Hood received the kindliest treat- 
 ment both from her and his father's old acquaintances. 
 There are people still living who knew ]\Irs Keay well, and 
 who speak of her as being a person of exemplary habits 
 — a little straitlaced perhaps, according to English notions, 
 but still an excellent woman. She was endowed with 
 strong common sense, was exceedingly pious, and of high 
 character — one, in fact, from all that can be gathered 
 regarding her, who would not stoop to act towards her 
 departed brother's only son in the manner related in the 
 "Reminiscences." That Hood frequently annoyed her there 
 is little room for doubt. A plain, sensible, commonplace 
 Scot, she could not understand, far less appreciate, the 
 thoughtless and, undoubtedly to her, annoying pleasantries 
 which, in spite of himself, he was ever and anon com- 
 mitting. As an instance of the method in which he 
 teased her, we quote the following extract from the 
 "Memorials": — 
 
 His aunt being a rigid Sabbatarian and "unco guid" 
 Avoman, did not realize his love of fun, which evidently 
 manifested itself tlius early. She was temporarily laid up
 
 TANTALIZES HIS AUNT. 41 
 
 by illness, and debarred from attendance on her favourite 
 " meenister," when her cliief solace was to perch her 
 nephew up at the parlour window, whicli commanded a 
 good view of the stream of worshippers on their way to 
 the kirk. Then something- like the following dialogue 
 would ensue : — 
 
 " Tammie, my man, keek oot. Wha 's that ? " 
 
 " That "s Bailie So-and-so's daughter, aunt, and isn't 
 she making desperate love to young Somebody, Avho's 
 walking by her side ! " 
 
 " The graceless hizzie 1 I 'd wauk her, gin 7 Avere her 
 mammie. Keek oot again, Tam." 
 
 "There's Mrs Blank, aunt, and she's got on a grand 
 silk gown, and such a velvet mantle ! " 
 
 " Set us up, laddie I She, indeed ! The silly wastrife 
 bodie ! She'd far better pay a' she's owing. Wha's 
 neist?" 
 
 And so they would go on, the crahbeJ anld Scotch- 
 woman little suspecting half the '• stour " proceeded from 
 the active imagination of her "nevoy" to heighten the 
 fun and draw her out. 
 
 So mui'h for Hood's heedless, playful Ijanter; and let 
 us at the same time point out that the expres.sion 
 "crabbed auld Scotchwoman" is inappropriate and inac- 
 curate. Mrs Keay, no doubt, Avhen crossed and " drawn 
 out," could show her temper like any high spirited 
 Avoman ; but she was not " crabbed." None of the Hood 
 family were ill-tempered, and Mrs Keay's disposition was 
 warm and generous. And Avitli regard to her age, she 
 would be between thirty and forty at the time of her 
 6
 
 42 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 nephew's visit. No woman is old even at a much greater 
 age than that. 
 
 The charge, too, of inhospitaHty is fomid, upon in- 
 quiry, to be untenable. It is impossible to believe that 
 the woman to whom Hood in his latter years, as will be 
 j)roved in the sequel, wrote the most feeling letters, and 
 to whom the last note he ever penned on earth was 
 indited, would act in the unkindly, heartless manner de- 
 sciibed in the " Reminiscences." Such an act would go 
 against the grain of Scottish hospitality and the ties of 
 kindred. It would be difficult, therefore, to come to any 
 other conclusion than that Hood had either forgotten or 
 unAvitthigly omitted certain interesting facts relating to 
 his reception and early residence in Dundee. 
 
 The reader, too, would infer from the passage which 
 takes place between Hood and his landlad}- — whom he so 
 graphically describes in the second paragraph quoted — 
 tiiat he anived in Dundee at the festive season of the 
 New Year. A little consideration will show that this is 
 another inconsistency. When his health broke down he 
 was suffeiing from pulmonary complaints, weakness of the 
 system, and other physical disorders. Would any sensible 
 medical man, who had regard for his reputation, order a 
 patient so affected to take a trip in midwinter, on board 
 a vessel with the limited passenger accommodation which 
 the smacks then trading between Dundee and London 
 afforded? A)id would the person afflicted be able to 
 withstand the buffetiiigs and tossing of the German Ocean, 
 or the ligours of a Northern winter at such a severe 
 season ? 
 
 It is needless to answer these questions. The assumj)-
 
 SEPARATION. 43 
 
 tion is that Hood, after spending tlie previous five months 
 in unfettered enjoyment, had, by frequent outbursts of 
 irrepressible raillery, grievously oftended his relative, and 
 it became necessary that they should part. She could 
 not withstand his " aii-taking " ways. Mrs Keay, as has 
 already been observed, was a Avoman of high temper, and, 
 when once provoked to a certam pitch, would scarcely 
 forgive or relent. That the aunt and nephew sepa- 
 rated with feelings of irritation on both sides cannot be 
 doubted; but that she was guilty of such a breach of 
 hospitality as to " reship him to the place whence he 
 came," without allowing him to reside under the same 
 roof, is au assertion for which we can find no foundation.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I\Iis Lutterwoitli's Lodgings in Overgatc, Dundee— Was I\Iis Buttcrworth "a 
 coarse vulgar woman"? — Description of INIrs Keay — JIrs Butterworth"s 
 Dinners — Means of Support while in Scotland — Hood's Companions — De- 
 scription of aged Dundonians — The Harbour and Craig Pier — Capsizing of 
 Ferry Boat: Sad Calamity — "The Apparition "—His FlliST Al'PEAKAXCE 
 IN PuiXT — Sends Poem to " Dundee Magazine." 
 
 Mrs Keay was on terms of intimacy Avitli a i\Irs Butter- 
 worth, Avho was in the habit of visiting her. This hidy 
 kept a number of young- men as boarders. Hood, of 
 course, became acquainted with her when she visited his 
 aunt; and accordingly, when the rupture took place, he 
 left the house of the latter and took up his abode with 
 Mrs ]3utterworth, Avliose dwelling was situated at foot of 
 Overgate, within a few yards of the High Street. The 
 stair which led to her apartments, owing to its peculiar 
 formation, was styled the " Buckie Stair." It is situated 
 between the shops of ]\Ir Fleming, hardware merchant, 
 and Mr Beattie, confectioner, and Mrs Butter worth's apart- 
 ments occupied the flat above. 
 
 It is, perhaps, undesiraljle to ho carping and finical 
 with Hood's narrative; but it wcjuld be unfair to the 
 memory of his landlady to pass over the passage in
 
 HIS LANDLADY. 45 
 
 which he desciibes her personal appearance. " He was, 
 lie says, " regularly histalled in a boarding-liouse kept by 
 a Scotchwoman. Slie was a sort of widow with a sea- 
 faring husband, 'as good as dead,' and in her appearance 
 not unlike a personification of roiuje et noir, with her red 
 eyes, her red face, her yellow teeth, and black velvet 
 cap." In a letter to his maternal aunts, dated September 
 1815, he refers disparagingly to her manner of speech, 
 sneers at her " broad brogue," and remarks that she Avas 
 guilty of " blunders which would do credit to an Hiber- 
 nian." Rather hard upon the Scotch. 
 
 Hood depicts his landlady as a coarse, vulgar Avoman. 
 AVas that the case? In his letters in the "Memorials," 
 as in his statements in the " Reminiscences," there is not 
 the sliglitest indication that he resided with any other 
 person. Besides, most exhaustive inquiries have been 
 made to ascertain if he lodged with more than one laud- 
 lady after he had separated from his aunt. The oldest 
 people of the town who had the slightest acquaintance Avith 
 Hood have been questioned as to the truth of the asser- 
 tion that he dwelt under the roof of a "sort of AvidoAV 
 Avith a seafaring husband as good as dead" ; and those 
 of his "far awa' freends" who are still aliA'e liav^e been 
 asked if they knew that he had lodged Avith a Avoman 
 of the gross external appearance attributed to his laud- 
 lady. The ansAver invariably has been that he lived 
 Avitli ]\Irs ButterAvorth, and, so far as they ever kncAv or 
 heard, with ]\Irs ButterAvorth only. If Hood had given 
 the smallest hint that, after leaAang his aunt's house, he 
 had occupied apartments Avith more than one landlady, 
 there Avould luu'e been no cause to duulit his remarks.
 
 46 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 But he gives no such clue. The only definite opinion, 
 therefore, that can be formed is, that lie lodged ^vith one 
 landlady oidy, and that that lady was Mrs Butterworth. 
 
 Now, instead of being a coarse, vulgar woman, — the 
 personification of I'owje et noir, and whose broad brogue 
 and blunders would do credit to "an Hibernian' — we are 
 informed by those who knew her that Mrs Butterworth 
 Avas the reverse. She was well-educated, accomplished, 
 and, in person, handsome and ladylike. Music, chess, and 
 a good selection of books were to be found in her house. 
 Are such refinements generally to be had amongst the 
 coarse and vulgar ? Indeed, Hood was fortunate in obtain- 
 ing lodgings of so good a class, where he met with 
 several young men whose tastes and sympathies were 
 akin to his own, and amongst whom he " was destined to 
 spend the greater part of two years under circumstances 
 likely to materially influence the colouring and filling up 
 of his future life." 
 
 In describing his landlady, could the poet have had 
 his aunt in his mind's eye at the moment? It has been 
 ascertained that her complexion was florid; that she was 
 plain of speech — so plain, indeed, that it might be charac- 
 terized as broad — that her eyes were "blear" or red; that 
 she was in the habit of wearing a cap; and, it is needless 
 to state, that her husband was a seafaring man, and so 
 frequently at sea that it might be said of him, he was 
 "as good as dead." 
 
 In those days there were no public dining-rooms in 
 Dundee. These are modern institutions in the North. 
 Merchants, clerks, and others, who noAv enjf)y their 
 hniclieon in handsome saloons, had either to "fast" or
 
 UIS MExVNS OF SUPPORT. 47 
 
 quietly eat a "piece," which they brought with them, to 
 take the edge off their appetites till the meal hour arrived. 
 JVIrs Butterworth was, perhaps, the first to estul^lish a talk 
 iVhote in Dundee. Several of her lodgers were yoimg 
 men engaged in ofHces and shops. Their hours were long 
 and irregular, and she supplied them with dinners as they 
 happened to drop in. Gradually other young men took 
 advantage of her cuisine, and in the com-se of time a 
 select number sat down daily at her table. Hood made 
 the acquaintance of most of these young fellows, Avith 
 one or two of whom he became on terms of tlie most 
 familiar intimacy. 
 
 It does not appear that he followed any distinct oc- 
 cupation while residing in Dundee, although the late 
 Robert Miln, at one time a well-known lawyer, and who 
 was a fellow-lodger with Hood in Mrs Butterworth's, fre- 
 quently averred in company that he was employed in an 
 office in town for a time. That, indeed, is very probable, 
 but it must have been for a very short time. His object 
 was to regain his lost health, and strengthen his system 
 against the recurrence of the "brood of complaints," the 
 " hatching " of which had caused him so nuich pain and 
 misery. Then, if he did not work, whence did lie derive 
 his means of support? His mother, with her limited 
 income, was unable to give him much assistance, and he 
 did not seem to expect it. It is noticeable in the 
 " Memorials " that the letters he sends south are ad- 
 dressed only to his aunts — the Misses Sands, There are 
 none to his sisters or parent — at least they do not appear 
 in print. Robert Sands, his uncle, took a deep interest 
 in James Hood before he died. It is probable, therefore,
 
 48 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 that lie extended the same kindness to the younger 
 brother, and, in conjunction with the Misses Sands, pro- 
 vided the means necessary to maintain him for a time in 
 the Land o' Cakes. In one of the letters he thanks his 
 aunts for their " handsome present," and no doubt such 
 welcome gifts were frequently sent north. 
 
 Hood appears to have been very happy while in lodg- 
 ings, and the most of his companions were young men 
 belonging to good families residing in town or the im- 
 mediate vicinity thereof. Amongst these were Robert 
 Miln, George Rollo, Andrew Wyllie, Frederick Shaw, and 
 J. G. ]\ryicar, who became the respected parish minister 
 of ^loffiit, and upon whom the University of St. Andrews, 
 in after years, conferred the degree of Doctor of Divinity. 
 If they were not residenters under ]\Irs Butterworth's roof, 
 they were visitors to her house, or frequenters at lier 
 dinner table. Regarding this period Hood says — "It will 
 hardly be expected that from some lialf-dozen young 
 l)achelors there came fortli any solemn voice didactically 
 warning me in the strain of the Sage Imlac to the Prince 
 of Abyssinia." Of the climate and its effect upon his 
 constitution he speaks in high terms. "To do justice," 
 he says, " to the climate of ■ stout and original Scotland,' 
 it jiromised to act kiiidly by the constitution committed 
 to its care. Tin- aii- evidently agreed with the natives, 
 and Auld Robin Grays and John Andersons were plenty 
 as blackbenies, and Auld Langsyne himself seemed to 
 walk, bonneted, amongst the patriarchal figures in the 
 
 likeness of an old man covered with a maritle It 
 
 was Hke coming amongst the Struldbrugs ; and truly, 
 for any knowledge to the contrary, many of these old
 
 THE CRAIG PIER. -i'J 
 
 ]\Iortalitics are still living, enjoying their sneeshing, their 
 
 toddy, their cracks, and particular reminiscences 
 
 Scotia, according to the evidence of Mr Buckingham's 
 Committee, is an especially drouthie bodie, who drinks 
 whisky at christenings, and at buryings, and on all 
 possible occasions besides. Her sons drink, not by the 
 hour or by the day, but by the week, — wdtness Souter 
 Johnny — 
 
 • Tam lo'ed him like a vera brither, 
 They had been fou for weeks thegither,' 
 
 swallowing no thin, washy potation, but a strong over- 
 proof spirit, with a smack of smoke, — and ' where there 
 is smoke there is fire,' — yet without flashing oft', accordmg 
 to temperance theories, by spontaneous combustion." 
 
 The harbour and its busy landing places had a strong 
 attraction for him. It was the favourite rendezvous for 
 sailors, old and young, lumbermen, and aniiDhibious in- 
 dividuals who were neither landsmen nor seamen, but 
 for whom the pierhead had a peculiar fascination. Every- 
 thmg around smelt of tar and salt water; and bluff 
 marine characters lounged, smoked, and expectorated, 
 filling the air with the fumes of strong-flavoured tobacco. 
 The Craig Pier, too, was a favourite resort. He had 
 made the acquaintance of the boatmen while sojourning 
 with his aunt in Newport, and he continued to keep up 
 his intimacy with them. It was while he was in the 
 habit of frequenting this place that he obtained material 
 for his sketch, -'The Apparition," which appears in 
 7
 
 50 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 "Hood's Own'' — ail iiicicleut associated with a sad calamity 
 wliicli happened by the upsetting (jf a boat on the Tay. 
 The Dundee Advertiser of date June 2d, 1815, gives the 
 follo^nug account of the catastrophe : — 
 
 " On Sunday forenoon one of the pinnaces plying be- 
 tween Dundee and Newport, in Fife, suddenly sank about 
 half a mile from the latter port, and out of twenty-three 
 or twenty-four persons supposed to have been on board 
 only seven were saved. From some of the people who 
 escaped and others, we have with great pains collected 
 the following details of this very sad disaster : — About a 
 quarter past ten o'clock the pinnace sailed from the Craig 
 Pier, but as the tide Avas ebbing, and the sand-bank, 
 wliich now forms an opposing barriei' to the passage, was 
 uncovered, it was necessary to make the circuit of its 
 eastern extremity, and for that purpose, the Avind blowing 
 strong from the south-east, the boatmen set her along- 
 shore till she Avas opposite the east harbour. Here those 
 cumbrous and unmanageable sails, called liigsails, Avere 
 hoisted. The main lugsail Avas fii-st reefed, but after some 
 altercation among the seafaring people on board, the 
 reefs were let out and the Avhole canvas unfurled. A 
 yaAvl belonging to Feny-Port-on-Craig, Avith one man on 
 board, Avas fastened by a toAV-rope to the stern of the 
 pinnace to be toAved across the riA^cr. In this maimer, 
 and under a heavy press of sail, the pinnace Aveathered the 
 bank, Avlien, liaAang shipped some Avater, a fresh alter- 
 cation ensued about taking in the mainsail. In a fcAV 
 minutes afterAvards the person at the helm rose either to 
 clear the yawl's toAV-rope from the outrigger (jf the pin-
 
 THE APPARITION. 51 
 
 nace's mizzeii, or to assist in taking down the mainsail — 
 it is uncertain wliieh — and having accidentally pnt tlie 
 pinnace too hroad from the wind, she instantly filled with 
 water and Avent down by the stern. At this moment tlie 
 man in the yawl, with admirable presence of mind, cnt 
 the tow-rope which attached her to the pinnace, and not 
 only preserved his own life, but afforded the means of 
 saving the seven persons from the pinnace." 
 
 John Spalding, commonly called Ballad, or Cossack 
 Jock, master of the pinnace, was amongst the drowned, 
 and it was after his remains had been brought home 
 that the following incident is said to have occurred. It 
 is quoted from " Hood's Own," and it will be observed that 
 the poet throws a good deal of sarcasm upon the super- 
 stitious propensities of the Scotch : — 
 
 THE APPARITION. 
 
 A TRUE STORY. 
 
 "To keep without a reef in a gale of wind like that 
 — Jock was the only boatman on the Firth of Tay to do 
 it!"— 
 
 " He had sail enough to blow him over Dundee Law." — 
 
 " She 's emptied her ballast and come up again, — with 
 her sails all standing — every sheet was belayed with a 
 double turn." 
 
 I give the sense rather than the sound of the fore-
 
 52 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 going speeches, for the speakers were all Dundee ferry- 
 boatmen, and broad Scotchmen, using the extra-wide 
 dialect of Angus-shire and Fife. 
 
 At the other end of the low-roofed room, under a 
 coarse white sheet, sprinkled with sprigs of rue and rose- 
 mary, dimly lighted by a small candle at the head, and 
 another at the feet, lay the object of their comments — 
 a corpse of startling magnitude. In life, poor Jock was 
 of unusual stature, but stretching a little, perhaps, as is 
 usual in death, and advantaged by the narrow limits of 
 the room, the dimensions seemed absolutely supernatural. 
 During the warfare of the Allies against Napoleon, Jock, 
 a fellow of some native humour, had distinguished himself 
 by shiging about the streets of Dundee ballads, I believe 
 liis own, against old Bonny. The nick-name of Ballad- 
 Jock Avas not liis only reward; the loyal burgesses sub- 
 scribed among themselves, and made liim that fatal gift, 
 a ferry-boat, the management of which we have just 
 heard so seriously reviewed. The catastrophe took place 
 one stormy Sunday, a furious gale blowing agahist the 
 tide, down the river — and the Tay is anything but what 
 the Irish call "weak tay" at such seasons. In fact, the 
 devoted Nelson, with all sails set, — fair-weather fashion, — 
 caught aback in a sudden gust, — after a convulsive whirl 
 capsized, and went down in forty fathoms, taking 
 with her tAvo-and-twenty persons, the greater part 
 of whom were (m their way to hear the celebrated 
 I)r Chalmers, — even at that time highly popular, — 
 though preaching in a small church at some obscure 
 village, I forget the name, in Fife. After all the rest 
 had sunk in the water, the huge figure of Jock was
 
 THE APPARITION. 53 
 
 obsevved clinging to an oar, barely afloat, — when some 
 sufferer probably catching hold of his feet, he suddenly 
 disappeared, still grasping the oar, which afterwards 
 springing upright into the air, as it rose again to the 
 surface, showed the fearful depth to which it had been 
 carried. The body of Jock was the last found ; about 
 the fifth day it was strangely enough deposited by the 
 tide almost at the threshold of his own dwelling, at the 
 Craig, a small pier or jetty, frequented by the ferry-boats. 
 It had been hastily caught up, and in its clothes laid out 
 in the manner just described, lying as it were in state, 
 and the pubhc, myself one, being fi-eely admitted, as far 
 as the room Avould hold, it was crowded by fish-wives, 
 mariners, and other shore - haunters, except a few feet 
 next the corpse, which a natural awe towards the dead 
 kept always vacant. The narrow death's door was 
 crammed with eager listening and looking heads, and by 
 the buzzing without, there was a large surplus crowd in 
 waiting before the dwelling for their turn to enter it. 
 
 On a sudden, at a startling exclamation from one of 
 those nearest the bed, all eyes were directed towards 
 that quarter. One of the candles was guttering and 
 sputtering near the socket,— the other just twinkling out, 
 and sending up a stream of rank smoke, — but by the 
 light, dim as it Avas, a slight motion of the sheet was 
 perceptible just at that part where the hand of the dead 
 mariner might be supposed to be lying at his side ! A 
 scream and shout of horror burst from all within, echoed, 
 though ignorant of tlie cause, by another from the crowd 
 without. A general rush was made towards the door, 
 but egress was impossible. Nevertheless horror and dread
 
 54 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 sqiieezccl np the company in the room to half their former 
 compass : and left a for wider blank between the living 
 and the dead I I confess at first I mistrnsted my sight ; 
 it seemed that some twitching of the nerves of the eye, 
 or the flickering of the shadows, thrown by the unsteady 
 flame of the candle, might have caused some optical 
 delusion ; but after several minutes of sepulchral silence 
 and watching, the motion became more awfully manifest, 
 now proceeding slowly upwards, as if the hand of the 
 deceased, still beneath the sheet, was struggling uj) feebly 
 towards his head. It is possible to conceive, but not to 
 describe, the popular consternation, — the shrieks of women, 
 — the shouts of men — the struggles to gain the only 
 outlet, choked up and rendered impassable by the very 
 efforts of desperation and fear ! Clinging to each other, 
 and wdth ghastly faces that dared not turn from the object 
 of dread, the whole assembly backed Avith united force 
 against the opposite wall, Avith a convulsive energy that 
 threatened to force out the very side of the dwelhng — 
 when, startled l^efore by silent motion, but now by sound, 
 — with a smart rattle something fell from the bed to the 
 floor, and disentangling itself from the death drapery, 
 displayed — a largo pound Crab ! The creature, with 
 some design, perhaps sinister, had been secreted in the 
 ample clothes of the drowned seaman, l)ut even the com- 
 parative insignificance of this apparition gave but little 
 alleviation to the superstitious horrors of the spectators, 
 who appeared to believe firmly that it was only the Evil 
 One himself transfigured. "Wherever the crab straddled 
 sidelong, infirm beldame and sturdy boatman equally 
 shrank and retreated before it, — ay, even as it changed
 
 THE APPARITION. 55 
 
 place, to crowding closely round the corpse itself, 
 rather than endure its diabolical contact. The 
 crowd outside, warned by cries from within, of the 
 presence of ]\Iahound, had by this time retired to a 
 respectful distance, and the crab, doing what herculean 
 sinews had failed to effect, cleared itself a free passage 
 through the door in a twinkling, and with natural instinct 
 began crawling as fast as he could clapperclaw, down the 
 little jetty before mentioned that led into his native sea. 
 The Satanic Spuit, however disguised, seemed everywhere 
 distinctly recognized. Many at the lower end of the Craig 
 leapt into their craft, one or two even into the water, 
 whilst others cre^Dt as close to the verge of the pier as 
 they could, leaving a thoroughfare, — wide as " the broad 
 path of honour," — to the Infernal Cancer. To do him 
 justice, he straddled along with a very unaffected uncon- 
 sciousness of his own evil importance. He seemed to 
 have no aim higher than salt water and sand, and had 
 accomplished half the distance towards them, Avhen a little 
 decrepit poor old sea-roamer, generally known as " Creel 
 Katie," made a dexterous snatch at a hind claw, and 
 before the Crab-Devil was aware, deposited him in hor 
 patch- work apron, with an " Hech, Sirs, what for are ye 
 gaun to let gang siccan a braw partane ? " In vain a 
 hundred voices shouted out, " Let him bide, Katie, he 's 
 no cannie"; fish or fiend, the resolute old dame kept a 
 fast clutch of her prize, promising him, moreover, a com- 
 fortable simmer in the mickle pat, for the benefit of 
 herself and that " puir silly body the gudeman"; and she 
 kept her word. Before night the poor Devil was dressed 
 in his shell, to the infinite horror of all hvr neighbours.
 
 56 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 Some even said that a black figure, with horns, and 
 Avnngs, and hoofs, and forky tail, in fact old Clooty him- 
 self, had been seen to fly out of the chimney. Others 
 said that unwholesome and unearthly smells, as of pitch 
 and brimstone, had reeked forth from the abominable 
 thing, through door and window. Creel Kate, however, 
 persisted, ay, even to her dying day and (^n her death- 
 bed, that the Crab was as sweet a Crab as ever was 
 supped on ; and that it recovered her old husband out 
 of a very poor low way, — adding, "And that was a 
 thing, ye ken, the Deil a Deil in the Dub of Darkness 
 wad hae dune for siccan a gude man, and kirk-going 
 Christian body, as my ain douce Davie." 
 
 When the weather was unpropitious Hood stayed at 
 home and sketched and studied during the day, and 
 played at chess in the evenings. We are strongly in- 
 clined to believe, too, that he continued to improve 
 himself in tlie art of engraving, by practising during his 
 spare time, else it would have been difficult for him to 
 take the position he afterwards did in that art, with only 
 about two years' experience preparatory to leaving 
 London. This was probably one of his sources of sup- 
 port wl)ile living with Mrs Butterworth. 
 
 Several months prior to the accident referred to, Hood 
 ventured to appear in print. The Dundee Advertiser at 
 that time was conducted by Mr Stephen liintoul, who 
 afterwards, as editor of the Spectator, became the most 
 accomplished journalist of his day. With a youthful 
 partiality for skits, he forwarded a letter to Mr Rintoul 
 beari]ig up(jn certain pliases of local politics. The
 
 HIS FIRST APPEARANCE IN PRINT. 57 
 
 letter, to the delight and apparent astonishment of a 
 friend Avhom he had taken into confidence, was inserted. 
 " Memory recalls," he says, " but a moderate share of 
 exultation, Avhicli was totally eclipsed, moreover, by the 
 exuberant transports of an accessory before the fact, who, 
 methinks, I still sec in my mind's eye rushing out of the 
 printing office with a wet sheet steannng in his hand 
 fluttering all along the High Street, to announce breath- 
 lessly that ' we were in.' " The accessory before the fact 
 was a young man named Gordon, who, to judge from the 
 sarcastic references to him in the " Reminiscences," seems 
 to have been a harum-scarum fellow. The Advertiser at 
 that time was printed in New Inn Entry, so that Hood's 
 debut to the world of letters was made in that locality. 
 With regard to the identity of the letter, it may be stated 
 that the files of the paper have been carefully examined, 
 and the pubhcations for 1814 and 1815 gone over repeat- 
 edly by diff'erent persons. During these years the letters 
 in the Advertiser refer almost entirely to the opening of 
 the harbour, the dispute between Mudie — afterwards a 
 well-known author and writer for the London press — and 
 the patrons of the Academy, and questions of a kindi'cd 
 nature. The only letter at all resembling the style of 
 Hood, and bearing upon the "political and domestic 
 economy" of the town, was one to which was attached the 
 youthful and appropriate signature of " Juvenis." That 
 the public may be able to form an estimate for them- 
 selves, it is subjoined : — 
 
 Mr Editor,— Your insertion of the following remarkable 
 dream of mine, if you should think it will be of any ser- 
 
 s
 
 58 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 vice, -will oblige : — As I was meditating one day on the 
 number of abuses that might be rectified in Dundee I in- 
 sensibly fell asleep. ]\Iy fancy presented to me a large, 
 black daemon of irregular features, whose name I found 
 was '• Dundee." He presented to me a roll of papers, 
 and immediately disappeared. The first that came into 
 my hand 1 found, on inspection, to Ijc a petition from a 
 traveller complaining that, having stayed out rather late 
 to sup with a friend, in coming home through one of the 
 narrow streets, the name of which he is not acquainted 
 Avith, he received great injury to a brand new hat 
 and greatcoat. A second complained of the smell from 
 the putrid entrails of fish and other filth left in the Fish 
 Market. Tavo more complained that while the Bailies 
 and other Magistrates were squabbling about privileges, 
 and looking over old records, they lost two fine horses 
 through the bad state of the pier. The next stated that 
 he was eye-witness of a child being run over by a cart, 
 while the driver was walking before, ignorant of what 
 was passing, and praying the Magistrates Avould take into 
 consideration and determine the length of rope to be al- 
 lowed for a halter in future. And, lastly, a long list of 
 queries, such as, When would the Harbour be finished ? 
 I also observed something about the building of a new 
 Academy, but the entrance of a friend dispelled the 
 vision. JUVEXIS. 
 
 Dundee, April 24, 1815. 
 
 Two months later he forwarded an effusion in the 
 shape of a poem to tlio Dundee Magazine^ a monthly perio- 
 dical published Ijy Thomas Colville it Son. The poem,
 
 '.'SABBATH MORNING." 59 
 
 too, met Avitli the favour of the editor, and Avas accepted. 
 The Magazine was printed and published in Castle Conrt, 
 Castle Street, and Hood's poetic birth took place in that 
 dingy, unhealthy part of the town. The Magazine, like 
 the Advertiser, has been subjected to the most careful 
 scrutiny, and the following- lines are fixed upon as bear- 
 ing a strong resemblance to the great humorist's handi- 
 work : — 
 
 SABBATH MORNING. 
 
 How few of all this hurrying crowd 
 
 Who press to reach the house of prayer, 
 
 Who seek the temple of their God — 
 Seek Him whose spirit hovers there ! 
 
 See yon demure and pious maid — 
 She surely shows devotion true ; 
 
 In robes of purity array'd, 
 
 Her honnei, not her heart, ?.s neic ! 
 
 To yonder heaving bosom turn, 
 Which swells with rapture high ; 
 
 With sacred zeal her heart must burn — 
 Ah ! trace the coquettes glancing eye ! 
 
 That grave and stately sage, indeed, 
 
 His thoughts must be on Heaven intent ; 
 
 But Heaven, perhaps, in him may read 
 A pondering wish for cent, per cent. !
 
 no 
 
 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 AVith nimble steps aucl eager haste 
 
 That ])ioiis youth ^vitll pleasure view, 
 
 Who fears a single moment's waste — 
 HU foot steps yonder fair pursue! 
 
 Yet who shall dare presume to raise 
 A din of censure, better grudg'd; 
 
 Take, then, the moral of my lays, 
 
 And judo e not, that ye he not jndfjd!
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Hood's Visit to Errol— His Grandmother, and Old-fashioned "Travellers' 
 Rest" — He Visits Patrick Matthew at Gourdie Hill, and the Gardiners at 
 Grange of Errol — He becomes an Angler — His Precocity — Errol ISIarket and 
 Races — He returns to Dundee — Writes Poem for "Dundee Magazine" — 
 "The Dundee Guide" — Description of Dundee in Rhyme — "The Bandit." 
 
 The village of Errol, the native place of the family, is 
 distant only a few miles from Dundee ; yet Hood seems 
 to have been reluctant to pay his friends there a visit. 
 In the interval between the letter and the poem— that is 
 to say early in the summer of 1815 — he appears to have 
 gone thither. The cause of delay may have arisen from 
 the influence of his aunt, Avho, for reasons of her own, 
 had little or no intercourse Avith her relatives in the Carse. 
 "While in Errol he lived principally with his grandmother. 
 She had been a hard-working woman all her days, and 
 now, when the evening of her life had set in, she had be- 
 come one of those poor bodies who were " scant o' cash." 
 Her son George may have assisted her; but he was such 
 a close-fisted carle that it is doubtful. To enable her to 
 eke o\it a livelihood, she kept lodgers, and stray or be-
 
 62 HOOD I\ SCOTLAND. 
 
 lated travellers inacle her house their temporary home. 
 On the occasion of Hood's first visit, the old lady was 
 in a dilemma. She was unaccustomed to tlie habits of 
 lier Eng-lisli grandson, who, she thought, would not look 
 ■wntli complacency on her own or her lodgers' homely 
 ways. They would soon be dropping in, and their 
 quality and appearance might not suit the tastes of her 
 better bred Cockney friend, A happy thought struck 
 her. It was getting late, and she induced Tom to retire 
 to rest. The dwelling consisted of one large apartment, 
 which was furnished with a " fixed-in " or close bed. 
 With much kindness and assiduity she showed the young 
 man to his sleeping-place ; and Avhen, as she thouglit, he 
 was in deep slumber, she softly closed the bed door, 
 turned the " sneb," and locked him in. But Tom, from 
 his grandmother's wily ways and manoeuvring, suspected 
 she had a motive for it. He had, therefore, feigned asleep. 
 As soon as the old Avoman had returned to her duties, he 
 opened his eyes^ and found himself in darkness, illumined 
 only by a stray beam from a " cruzie " which found its 
 way through a crevice in the panelling of the bedstead. 
 Creeping to the aperture he could observe everything that 
 was transacted on the " floorhead." First one lodger 
 dropped in, then another, until this old-fashioned cara- 
 vansary was well filled. For the first time he got a 
 peep at a peculiar phase of Scottish low life. It was a 
 scene full of pirpiant humour, Avhich made a lively im- 
 pression (»n his fancy; and next day, when he visited 
 Patnck Matthew at Gourdie Hill, lie imitated the sayings 
 and doings of the individuals composing the promiscuous 
 gathering with evident pleasure and dehght.
 
 LIFE IN THE CARSE. 63 
 
 Hood spent a good deal of his time during the 
 summer in the Carse, and a more interesting, health- 
 giving tract of country could not be found. He resided 
 principally with his grandmother, but frequently took 
 up his abode Avith ]\Ir and j\lrs Gardiner at the farm 
 of Errol Grange, where his visits extended over a week 
 at a time. The Gardiners and the Hood family Avere 
 distantly related, and Mv and ]\Irs Gardiner were the 
 parents of Patrick Gardiner, the friend of the elder 
 Hood. The young man was on intimate terms with the 
 late Mr Patrick ^Matthew of Gourdie Hill. ]\Ir Matthew, 
 who was a shrewd, intelligent Scotchman, knew his father, 
 and had visited him in London. He, therefore, took an 
 interest in the son, and was the first to perceive those 
 remarkable powers which even at that time had begun to 
 develop. Matthew Avas a keen angler. Although more 
 than a dozen years Hood's senior, he showed him the 
 "pows" and the burns where the best trout were to be 
 hooked, and initiated him into the pleasant mysteries of 
 the gentle art. 
 
 Captain Gardiner, the youngest son of the family of 
 that name, Avas a frequent companion. He Avas an en- 
 thusiastic sportsman, and the streams of the Carse, and 
 the braes of Fingask, Abernyte, and Rossie Avere familiar 
 to him. ]\Iany a trudge Tom had ; but it Avas newness 
 of life to him. He slept sound o' nights, and the in- 
 Aagorating exercise braced and strengthened his slender 
 frame. Long after, Avhen Hood had become famous, 
 j\Ir ]\IattlieAv Avas Avont to relate to his family the happy 
 time he spent in his society, both in these excursions and 
 as an occasional visitor to his lodgings in Dundee ; how
 
 64 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 he and Captain Gardiner were amused witli his strange 
 conceits, how they hiughed at his witty sayings, and 
 were surprised at his " auld farrant " cracks. His 
 pecnhar genius occasionally flashed out, and he often 
 made them merry with an odd remark curiously twisted 
 and fashioned. 
 
 AVhile residing at Errul he had an opportunity of 
 witnessing a Scotch fair of the old school. Errol market 
 and races, generation after generation, were looked for- 
 ward to by the inhabitants within a radius of twenty 
 miles as an annual event, in which holiday -making, 
 marketuig, horse-couping, and horse-racing were all mixed 
 together. It was, and still continues to be — although 
 shorn of much of its ancient glory — a promiscuous assem- 
 blage of jockeys, their aiders and abetters, itinerant 
 musicians, showmen and their shows, and sweetie vendors 
 and their stalls. People flocked to it from the farms and 
 villages around, the crowd being augmented by numbers 
 of uidividuals with sporting proclivities, who liailed from 
 Perth and Dundee. Hood was immensely tickled with 
 this nn'al gathering. The merry-making was one to 
 which he was totally unaccustomed. AVhatever grotesque- 
 ness of character he had seen in the highways and by- 
 ways of London, it could not be matched with the bluff" 
 iTiggedness displayed by the Scottish rustic in his jocund 
 moments. He was particularly struck with the loud- 
 voiced vendors at the sweetie stalls, and made sketches 
 of them in the act of retailing their goods. 
 
 Hood through life had a penchant for drawing 
 sketches of character ; but his early efforts seem to liave 
 been appreciated and admired only f(jr the moment, and
 
 RETURN TO DUxVDEE. 65 
 
 then thrown aside, so that not a single trace of 
 them can now be obtained. While residing in the 
 Carse he made one or two trips to Stobhall. The 
 mode of conveyance was of a primitive description — 
 an ordinary farm cart filled with straw — bnt none the less 
 enjoyable. He went in company with old Mr and ]\Irs 
 Gardiner, and the guidwife of Stobhall wonld no donbt 
 be rejoiced to see the improvement in the young man's 
 health. He made a sketch of the horse and cart while 
 on one of these tnps. The life he led at this time could 
 not be otherwise than pleasant. He had " nae coont, 
 nae care," and the bracing breezes of the fertile valley 
 of the Tay wrought wonders upon his constitution. He 
 was allowed to roam at will, and took full advantage 
 of his prerogative. When he left London he was told to 
 
 consult Dr C [Crichton] ; but the recuperative air 
 
 of the North, he states, rendered such a step unnecessary. 
 He " trusted to Natur','' t^nd that physician did her best 
 for him. 
 
 Hood returned to Dundee, and devoted his time to 
 study. He wrote, as stated, a poem for the Dundee 
 Magazine, and in the ensuing autumn and whiter " con- 
 tinued to compose occasionally," he remarks, " and, like 
 the literary performances of i\Ir Samuel Weller, my lucu- 
 brations were generally committed to paper, not in what 
 is commonly called written hand, but an imitation of 
 
 print It was adopted simply to make the reading 
 
 more easy, and thus enable me the more readily to form 
 a judgment of my little efforts. Print settles it, as Cole- 
 ridge says." The lady who resides in Springfield, Dundee, 
 already mentioned, remembers that he kept a MS. Scrap 
 9
 
 QS HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 Book, in wliicli lie wi-ote desultory verses. It was illus- 
 trated by sketches of Stob's Fair ; the Meadows and 
 women engaged in washing — similar, no doubt, to the 
 sketch of "The Fair Maid of Perth" in "Hood's Own"; 
 and scenes in the Overgate. This interesting sketch-book, 
 like most of the youthful mementoes of Hood, was re- 
 garded as valueless. It was given to children to amuse 
 themselves with, and was ultimately torn and destroyed. 
 
 About this period Hood contemplated the publication of 
 a series of letters, in rliyme, descriptive of the town, 
 which he entitled the '' Dundee Guide." He took his 
 friends Rollo and i\liln into confidence, but for some 
 unexplained reason the " Guide " was allowed to lapse, 
 and Hood ere long left Scotland. It appears, however, 
 from a letter to Mr Miln, dated Islington 1820, that it 
 was still his desire that the contents of the " Guide " 
 should be given to the public, and he instructed his 
 fi-iend to call upon the editor of tlic Advertiser to ascer- 
 tain if he would open his columns for that purpose. 
 But the " Guide " was destined to an unlucky fate. It 
 had been left in possession of Mr Rollo, and that gentle- 
 man having lent it to a friend, it was, to his great regret, 
 irrecoverably lost. 
 
 Fortunately, a specimen of the style in which the 
 " Guide " was written is preserved in the " Memorials." 
 In a letter to his aunts, dated Dundee, December 1815, 
 the poet says : — " Instead of giving you any regular 
 description of this irregular town, I shall give you some 
 extracts from my note-book, wherein I am endeavouring 
 to describe it after the manner of Anstey's Bath Guide
 
 DESCRIPTION OF DUNDEE. ()7 
 
 in letters from a family (Mr Bhiiiderhead'sj to their fnends 
 in London." The extract from the note-book is buIj- 
 joined : — 
 
 "The town is ill-built, and is dirty beside,. 
 For with water it's scantily, badly supplied 
 By wells, where the servants, in filling their pails, 
 Stand for hours, spreading scandal, and falsehood, and 
 
 tales. 
 And abounds so in smells that a stranger supposes 
 The people are very deficient in noses. 
 Their buildings, as though they 'd been scanty of ground, 
 Are crammed into corners that cannot be found. 
 Or as though so ill-built and contrived they had been. 
 That the town was ashamed they should ever be seen. 
 And their rooted dislike and aversion to waste 
 Is suffer'd sometimes to encroach on their taste, 
 For beneath a Theatre or Chapel they '11 pop 
 A saleroom, a Avarehouse, or mean little shop, 
 Whose windows, or rather no windows at all, 
 Are more like to so many holes in the wall. 
 And four churches together, with only one steeple, 
 Is an emblem quite apt of the thrift of the people. 
 
 ******* 
 
 " In Avalking one morning I came to the green, 
 Where the manner of washing in Scotland is seen ; 
 And I thought that it perhaps would amuse, should I 
 
 Avrite 
 A description of what seemed a singular sight.
 
 68 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 Here great bave-leggcd women Averc striding around, 
 
 And watering clothes that were laid on the ground. 
 
 While, on t'other hand, you the lasses might spy 
 
 In tubs, with their petticoats up to the thigh, 
 
 And, instead of their hands, washing thus with their 
 
 feet, 
 Which they often will do in the midst of the street, 
 Which appears quite indelicate, — shocking, indeed. 
 To those ladies who come from the south of the Tweed! 
 
 "Like a fish out of water, you'll think me, my dear, 
 When our manner of living at present you hear. 
 Here, by ten in the morning our breakfast is done — 
 When in town I ne'er think about rising till one ; 
 And at three, oh how vulgar, we sit down and dine, 
 And at six we take tea, and our supper at nine. 
 And then soberly go to our beds by eleven, 
 And as soberly rise the next morning by seven. 
 How unlike our great city of London, you '11 say. 
 Where day's turned into night, and the night into day. 
 But indeed to these hours I'm obliged to attend, 
 There's so very few ways any leisure to spend, 
 For they ne'er play at cards, Commerce, Ombre, or Loo, 
 Though they often are carding of wool, it is true. 
 And instead of " pianys," Italian sonatas, 
 At their sphniing Avheels sitting, they whistle hke carters. 
 
 " A poor man who'd been reading the public events. 
 Amidst ])rices of stock, and consols, and per cents,
 
 A LEARNED BAILIE. 09 
 
 Observed Oini)ium, and anxious to know what it meant, 
 
 With the news in his liand to a BaiHe he went, 
 
 For he thought the best way to obtain information 
 
 "Was by asking at one of the wise corporation. 
 
 Mr BaiHe hnmm'd, ha'd, looked exceeding* wise, 
 
 And considered a while, taken thus by surprise, 
 
 Till at length the poor man, avIio impatient stood by, 
 
 Got this truly sagacious, laconic reply — 
 
 'Omnium's just Omnium.' 
 
 Then returning at least just as wise as before, 
 
 He resolved to apply to a Bailie no more ! 
 
 ******* 
 
 "I have seen the Asylum they lately have made, 
 And approve of the plan, but indeed I'm afraid 
 If they send all the people of reason bereft 
 To this Bedlam, but few in the town will be left. 
 For their passions and drink are so terribly strong 
 That but few here retain all their faculties long. 
 And with shame I must own, that the females, I think. 
 Are in general somewhat addicted to drink ! 
 
 "Now I speak of divines; in the churches I've been, 
 Of which four are together, and walls but between, 
 So as you sit in one, you may hear in the next, 
 "When the clerk gives the psalm, or the priest gives the text. 
 With respect to their worship, with joy I must say 
 Their strict bigoted tenets are wearing aAvay, 
 And each day moderation still stronger appeal's, 
 Nor should I much wonder, if in a few years,
 
 70 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 The loud notes of the organ the burthen should raise 
 
 Midst the chorns of voices, the homage, and praise. 
 
 For I cannot conceive for what cause they deny 
 
 The assistance of music, in raising on high 
 
 Our thanksgiving and psalms, as King David of old 
 
 Upon numberless instruments played, we are told ; 
 
 Nor to music can theme more sublime be e'er given, 
 
 Than of wafting the strains of the righteous to heaven. 
 
 They've a custom, a little surprising, I own. 
 
 And a practice I think found in Scotland alone ; 
 
 For in England for penance, in churchyards they stand 
 
 In a sheet, while a taper they hold in their hand ; 
 
 But here in the Church, if the parties think fit, 
 
 On a stool called the "Cuttie," for penance they sit. 
 
 And, as though absolution they thus did obtain. 
 
 Go and sin, then appear the next Sunday again ! 
 
 Superstition as yet, though it's dying away. 
 
 On the minds of the vulgar holds powerful sway. 
 
 And on doors or on masts you may frequently view. 
 
 As defence against witchcraft, some horse's old shoe. 
 
 And the mariner's wife sees her child with alarm 
 
 Comb her hair in the glass, and predicts him some harm. 
 
 Tales of goblins and ghosts that alarmed such a one. 
 
 By tradition are handed from father to son, 
 
 And they oft will describe o'er their twopenny ale 
 
 Some poor ghost with no head, or grey mare without tail. 
 
 Or lean corpse in night-cap, all bloody and pale ! 
 
 Some large markets for cattle, or fairs, are lield here, 
 On a moor near the town, about thrice in a year.
 
 stob's fair. 71 
 
 So I went to the last, found it full, to my thinking, 
 Of whisky and porter, of smoking and drinking. 
 But to picture the scene there presented, indeed 
 The bold pencil and touches of llogaj'th Avould need. 
 Here you'd perhaps see a man upon quarrelling bent, 
 In short serpentine curves wheeling out of a tent, 
 (For at least so they call blankets raised upon poles, 
 Well enlightened and aired by the numerous holes). 
 Or some hobbling old wife, just as drunk as a sow, 
 Having spent all the money she got for her cow. 
 Perhaps some yet unsold, when the market has ceased. 
 You may then see a novelty, beast leading beast!" 
 
 " The Bandit," another of his youthful " amusements," 
 has happily been saved from neglect and destruction, a 
 fate which has attended nearly all his compositions while 
 residing in Dundee. From the style in which it is written 
 it appears to be an imitation of the class of verse made 
 popular by Lord Byron in his " Giaour," " Corsair," and 
 similar poems. "The Bandit" was a gift from Hood 
 to his friend Rollo, who esteemed it as one of the most 
 valued relics he possessed, and treasured it with care. 
 At his death the poem became the property of his brother, 
 Provost Rollo, of Bloomfield, who manifested the same
 
 72 
 
 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 anxiety for its preservation. Prior to the death of the 
 Provost he gave a letter to each of his four sons. David, 
 his eldest son, was entrusted with the poem ; and it is 
 tlu'ough that gentleman's kindness we are enabled to 
 place it before the public. 
 
 " The Bandit " forms the next chapter, and Hood's 
 reference to it will be found in one of his letters to Rollo, 
 quoted further on.
 
 1.:^ 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE BANDIT. 
 
 Canto IFirsi. 
 
 " While the red glaring torches ilhuniiie the cave, 
 Bring the wine that was bought by the bhjod of the brave ! 
 
 No coward's pale lip 
 
 Of the liquor shall sip 
 While we drink to our comrades that lie in the grave I 
 
 " We gained it in strife, and in danger we won ; 
 But we merrily drink now the battle is done ! 
 
 And the goblet we quaff 
 
 AVhile we merrily laugh, 
 Nor to fill it anew the same danger we'll shun. 
 
 " Then fill the bright goblets — replenish the whole ! 
 Pour, pour the rich liquor that gladdens the soul; 
 For remorse we defy 
 When the goblet is by, 
 And conscience and care are soon drowned in the bowl." 
 10
 
 74 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 Tims 8ung the bandit crew, and as they sung, 
 Wildly their harsh, discordant voices rung; 
 And jarring echoes filled the vaulted cave 
 As each harsh voice joined rudely in the stave ; 
 And when they ceased, the scoffing jest gave birth 
 To sounds of laughter — loud and boisterous mirth ; 
 Or all "vvas hushed in silence round while one 
 Tiiumphant told of deeds of horror done ; 
 Or boasting speech and bitter mockings rose 
 To angry words, and threatenings to blows 
 And bloody contest, till the din swells high 
 With shouts of fury, pain, and blasphemy. 
 
 But instant sunk the tumult and the din, 
 
 As suddenly the Chieftain came within ; 
 
 His tall, majestic, and commanding form 
 
 Had been depressed beneath misfortune's storm ; 
 
 And on his brow care's lineaments uncouth 
 
 Belie his age and rob him of his youth. 
 
 And, save when all convulsed, his features show 
 
 He strives -within for mastery with woe ; 
 
 While half his agitated frame reveals 
 
 The inward agony his pride conceals ; 
 
 His face and form assume the settled air 
 
 And wonted attitude of calm despair. 
 
 He was not foraied by Nature for the part 
 That he now played — once foreign to his heart. 
 He had been formed to love ; but 'twas his fate 
 To meet with none but who deserved his hate.
 
 THE BAXDIT. 75 
 
 He liad been mild, but injuries liad fired, 
 And with a savage sullenness inspired; 
 Repeated A\Tongs liad turned liis breast to steel, 
 And all but these he had forgot to feel. 
 
 Jd' 
 
 Apart from all, within a dark recess, 
 
 He sat him down in gloomy silentness, 
 
 Where he was wont to sit in gloomy thought 
 
 O'er dark designs with woe and fury fraught, 
 
 And his wild brain each frenzied plan revolved, 
 
 Or acts of danng enterprise resolved; 
 
 Even now, thus darkly did he meditate 
 
 One last sad act to signalize his hate — 
 
 One deed of retribution to be hurled 
 
 To 'venge the ^^Tongs he suffered from the world I 
 
 Nor oft the robbers ventured to intrude 
 
 By careless noise upon his thoughtful mood ; 
 
 And fewer still e'er strive by curious speech 
 
 The secret purport of his plans to reach. 
 
 One look — one word — the intrusive speech repressed, 
 
 And the inquiry hushed, ere scarce expressed ; 
 
 So was he ever feared and held in awe — 
 
 They crouched to him who spurned at every law I 
 
 Wolf only to address the Chieftain dared, 
 Nor for repulses oft repeated cared. 
 Next to the Chief they feared and hated him 
 Whose joy was blood and cruelty his whim. 
 His sheathless blade was never known to rust, 
 Nor the fresh gore e'er suffered to encrust;
 
 7fi HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 Peace he abhorred, and endless warfare waged, 
 
 In jarrhig strife, eternal broils engaged. 
 
 Ambitious, too, — impatient of control, — 
 
 Subjection grated on his hauglity soul, 
 
 And made him — spurning at his leader's sway — 
 
 First to rebel and latest to obey. 
 
 And now, with angry tone the Bandit spoke. 
 
 And on tlu' Chieftain's reverie thus In-oke — 
 
 " Say, do you scorn us, tliat you shun our feast. 
 For that invites not your contempt at least; 
 Our Avine is good, and even Dacre's Lord 
 Scarce sees such venison smoke upon his board. 
 Such is our feast — would it were never worse, 
 Nor more deserving your contempt than us." 
 
 Up rose the Chief in haste, but not a word 
 
 Implied the discontented speech was heard. 
 
 " To arms," he cried, " to arms Avith speed prepare, 
 
 This night our final enterprise to share. 
 
 And then Ave part, for 'mid these Avilds I see 
 
 No firm security remains for me." 
 
 He spoke — they lingered still, and some expressed 
 Their discontent in murmurs half repressed — 
 " When steals our Avearied limbs repose from toil, 
 ^Vhile Ave make merry o'er our liard-earned spoil, 
 This A'cry m'ght Ave fondly ho[)cd at last 
 'i'o rest and rcA'el after labours })ast; 
 And, as I live, a feast, 'Uxan our belief. 
 Would celebrate the accession of our Chief."
 
 THE BANDIT. 77 
 
 " A feast ! a banquet ! rather let it show 
 In my hfe's calendar a day of woe ! 
 A day that rose in gloom is lowering yet, 
 And soon, I fear, as gloomily will set ; 
 And for your calling, think you I have prized 
 Your avocation, nor yourselves despised? 
 Have I your savage, brutal deeds admired, 
 Nor cursed the sordid motives that inspired? 
 No ! I have viewed ye as a scourge designed — 
 A plague — a curse — to cliasten humankind. 
 As such, as instruments I chose you, tlicn. 
 To wreak my vengeance on ungrateful men ! 
 
 " And in your banquets did I ever sip ? 
 Your food untasted ever pass my lip? 
 No ! I will eat wild berries and wild fruit, 
 Drink of the stream and famish on a root, 
 Couch in a cave and lodge me where I can. 
 Ere I will now hold anything of man ! 
 And, hear this truth, — the plainest morsel now, 
 By honest labour, earned with SAveating brow, 
 Were dearer, sweeter for, to me at least, 
 Than all the viands in your guilty feast ! 
 
 Enough of this. Time hurries on ! Draw near ; 
 For once my plan and all its purport hear, 
 Tliat, known more fully, you may judge ariglit, 
 You join or not my enterprise to-night ! " 
 
 In deep attention, — hushed without a sound,— 
 With wondering eagerness they circle round;
 
 78 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 Ne'er had he deigned before one word to hokl 
 In converse with them or his phxns had told ; 
 But now he speaks, for once witliout command, 
 And the mnte robbers, hstening, roimd him stand. 
 
 '• ^^'ho has not heard the Earl Glenahan's name, 
 And been famihar with his warhke fame ? 
 Who, by his king- iingratefidly repaid, 
 Left courts and kings and sought the rural sliade, 
 Till roused from happy indolence he heard 
 Tlie plaint liis bondaged countrymen preferred. 
 And heard the summons to his patriot hand 
 To burst the fetters that enslaved his land ; 
 'Twas then reluctantly he drew his sword 
 Against the king for whom his blood had poured, 
 But poured, alas, in vain ; — who does not know 
 His combats, victories, and overthrow? 
 Though all his perils, both by land and sea. 
 And sorrows since, are only known to .me. 
 
 " Defeated and deserted — under ban — 
 
 Chased like a tiger by the hate of man ; 
 
 By day through lonely wilds he urged his flight, 
 
 And couched beneath Heaven's canopy at night. 
 
 Alone he fled — his tenantry's goodwill 
 
 And wishes for his welfare followed still ; 
 
 But more they dared not — till, by happy chance, 
 
 Two Ijoldly aided his escape to France. 
 
 " But ere he went he bade a long adieu 
 To one, the last, the only friend he knew ;
 
 THE BANDIT. 70 
 
 To him confided his intended wife — 
 His love, his hope, his all, and more than hfe ; 
 And then he hurried from the ing-rate strand. 
 But first bequeathed his blessing to his land. 
 
 " In France he covered all his deeds with shame, 
 
 And, first, for aye resigned the patriot's name. 
 
 Cursed bo the day — the era of his fall — 
 
 He gave his hand in friendship to the Gaul ; 
 
 Ne'er might his foes so well exult till then. 
 
 Nor he deserved thus of his countrymen ; 
 
 Ne'er had he raised before his traitor hand 
 
 Against the welfare of his native land ; 
 
 His deeds were blasted and his shame was sealed. 
 
 There first he fought and first was known to 
 
 greet 
 A joyful feeling in his own defeat; 
 Oft had he sighed to join in fight once more 
 A\'ith those he led to victory before ; 
 But, they victorious, — 'twere a coward's deed! 
 He sighed, and left it for the day of need. 
 It came. He marked the Gaul's superior force — 
 Resistless, bursting its triumphant course. 
 He left the conquerors in joyful haste, 
 And fought Avlien ruin and defeat menaced. 
 Again he conquered, and returned once more 
 With hopes rekindled to his native shore, 
 And fondly thought this service might recall 
 His country's love and make amends for all. 
 In vain ! His service they remembered not. 
 But all, except his many faults, forgot,
 
 80 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 And diuVL' liiiu into solitude to lind 
 
 A refuge with the vilest of his kind. 
 
 And now, to till the measure of his woe, 
 
 His friend must strike the last inhuman blow. 
 
 This night — save we avert the guilty deed, 
 
 Or his cold heart, like that he tortures, bleed — 
 
 He weds the hand and lieart he basely stole. 
 
 And whelms keen anguish o'er Gleuallan's soul ! 
 
 Love, friendless, poor — yet while my arm is strong, 
 
 And my blade keen, I can avenge the wrong. 
 
 Till now I've righted others' cause alone. 
 
 But now Glenallan shall avenge his own ! " 
 
 Awhile the robbers paused in deep amaze, 
 And on the Chieftain turned their earnest gaze. 
 Not that they pondered aught unusual now 
 In the dark workings of his gloomy brow; 
 But ne'er before they heard his lofty Jiame, 
 Nor kncAV they had a Chieftain of such fame. 
 
 He spoke again : " Your guilty hands are red, 
 
 And blush with blood too often they have shed. 
 
 Many perchance may feel in after times 
 
 The woe, the misery that tracked your crimes; 
 
 15ut can remorse or conscience now recall 
 
 One deed so black as this among them all? 
 
 If so, remain, unworthy of the care 
 
 To speed the chastening you ought to share. 
 
 Speak I \Vhat so sacred to a Highland breast 
 
 As is the claim of safety for his guest, 
 
 And far more sacred if he be distrest?
 
 THE BANDIT. 81 
 
 'Twas thus we hailed the Stuart when lie fled, 
 And spurned the gold that hung upon his head : 
 Was there a wretch, a traitor so accurs't, 
 A seeming friend who dared betray his trust ? 
 
 " Lead on ! — We go ! The traitor's heart shall bleed, 
 
 Our hands shall aid, our tongues approve the deed. 
 
 Long live our Chieftain, and all traitors die!" 
 
 They cried — one only johied not in the cry. 
 
 'Twas Wolf! "I say not so," with scornful smile 
 
 He said, and gazed upon his brand the while. 
 
 " Could this relate the deeds its edge had done, — 
 
 Lost in amaze ye would forget that one, 
 
 As each succeeding each you found them still 
 
 All brighter far, or blacker, if you will," — 
 
 And o'er his haggard features as he spoke 
 
 A scornful smile of exultation broke. 
 
 All have some passion, pride, or ruling will. 
 
 And his to be in all superior still ; 
 
 And now he gloried o'er the blood he spilt, 
 
 That made him paramount, though but in guilt. 
 
 And now the sign, the bustle and the din 
 Of preparation reigns without — within ; 
 Loud ring the arms, and loud the bugle strain, 
 Recall the stragglers to the cave again. 
 They came in Aveary groups, but gaily bring 
 Fresh game and booty for the banqueting. 
 But, lo ! deserted is the festive board. 
 And each girds on his armour and his sword. 
 11
 
 82 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 While all their eoiiverse and their words imply 
 
 (Some daring enterprise and booty nigh. 
 
 They marvel and inquire the Chief's intent, 
 
 And rather give submission than consent. 
 
 They arm — the order given — the route is known, — 
 
 They hurry out, and AVolf is left alone. 
 
 The sun, still lingering in the golden west, 
 
 ►Slow sinks behind the purple mountain's crest 
 
 That rears its head sublime ; and far below 
 
 The lake's calm bosom sparkles in the glow, 
 
 Save where is seen an undulating shade 
 
 By frowning rocks and woods and forests made; 
 
 Or the tall vessel gently seems to glide 
 
 In silent majesty along the tide, 
 
 Her white sails wooing the soft zephyr's breath, 
 
 Scarce rippling in the dancing wave beneath 
 
 That rolls with gentle murmuring to lave 
 
 The Avillow twig that loves to kiss the wave. 
 
 One bright departing ray of golden fii-e 
 Still hangs reluctant on the village spire ; 
 Like Hope's last beam, it fondly lingers yet. 
 Then leaves the highest pinnacle — 'tis set ! 
 And now the mountains, blending with the sky. 
 Or, lost in clouds, elude the gazer's eye. 
 And wide and far the lengthened shadows round, 
 Creep slow and silent o'er the darkened ground; 
 And travelling on, obscuring hill and dale, 
 The shades of night enshroud the quiet vale. 
 
 Now sleeps the peasant, and forgets the while, 
 In sweet oblivion, his daily toil;
 
 THE BANDIT. 83 
 
 Now rest the weary, and perchance in sleep 
 
 The wretched and unhappy cease to weep ; 
 
 Some few in pain, or revehy or woe, 
 
 Or worldly cares, its influence forego. 
 
 Perhaps it flies the dark uneasy bed, 
 
 Where the pale invalid reclines his iiead ; 
 
 But chiefly Guilt its balmy sweets forsake, 
 
 And the cursed murderer and robber wake, 
 
 For Conscience and Remorse, that sleep not, seem 
 
 To sting wlien waked and haunt their every dream. 
 
 Canto .^rronb. 
 
 Through Arden's pile the lighted tapers blazed, 
 The sound of mirth and revelry was raised, 
 And in the mazy dance light bounding feet 
 The sprightly measure of the music beat. 
 The song, the jest, the laugh, the bowl flew fast. 
 And grey-haired Time smiled gaily as he passed ; 
 And "joy to Arden and his bonny bride ! " 
 Was hymned by joyous tongues on every side ; 
 And oft they pledged the fair in sparkling vnne, 
 Inspiring wit that better seemed to shine. 
 And there were lovely maids that blushed to hear 
 The grateful praises whispered in their ear;
 
 84 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 And undisguised, love mingled with the rest, — 
 
 A welcome, nor an uninvited guest ; 
 
 And there were beating hearts with rapture filled, 
 
 And throbbing pulses that with pleasure thrilled, 
 
 And eyes that shone with flames they could not 
 
 veil, 
 And tongues and lips that oft confirmed the tale, 
 Or strove the avowal but in vain to shun, 
 And all were happy — pleasing — pleased — but one ! 
 
 Clad as a mourner in a sable suit 
 
 The stranger stood — pale, motionless, and mute. 
 
 Nought could divert his glaring eyes aside, 
 
 Tliat gazed reproachfully upon the bride. 
 
 In vain her supplicating glance she raised ; 
 
 Unmoved, immovable he sternly gazed ; 
 
 But when she wildly clasped her hands of snow 
 
 He turned aside in pity to her woe. 
 
 Still where he moved all gaiety was crushed, 
 
 The dance Avas ended and the song was hushed. 
 
 And if, perchance, the speaker's glance had caught 
 
 His countenance, with woe and fury fraught. 
 
 He smiled no more — his face unconscious took 
 
 The gloomy semblance of the other's look. 
 
 His speech was checked as sudden as his glee, 
 
 Or ended in the Avhisper — " Who is he ? " 
 
 'Twas Ulric, on whose brow a sadder shade 
 
 Half mourned the gloomy change his presence made, 
 
 And while the dulcet sounds of music stole 
 
 So soft, sf) sweetly o'er his stormy soul.
 
 THE BANDIT. 85 
 
 His heart half softened, and his fury soothed, 
 As ruffled waves by oily di'ops are smoothed, 
 Inly he shuddered at himself, who stood 
 To end the scene of happiness in blood ! 
 
 But when he pondered on his own sad fall, 
 
 That left him dark and lone among them all, 
 
 Or looked on some exulting at his cost, 
 
 And revelling in joys himself had lost, 
 
 Then roused the slumbering Demon in his breast. 
 
 And mad designs that scarce could be repressed. 
 
 As, suddenly, he laid his eager hand 
 
 And grasped impatiently the starting brand. 
 
 Thus terrible he stood, when Arden pressed 
 
 To view the figure of his stranger guest. 
 
 And while in that stern countenance, with dread. 
 
 The well-known features of the Chief he read, 
 
 A damp, chill shuddering shook his startled frame. 
 
 His tongue, too, trembled Avliile he spoke the name. 
 
 And his heart sank as his fixed eye-balls viewed 
 
 The frowning look and threatening attitude. 
 
 "Yes! I am he — deserted and despised. 
 
 Whose heart is tortured and whose head is prized ! 
 
 Yes, I am he — your treachery has driven 
 
 From all his kind — hope, happiness, and heaven; 
 
 But shall you not sit mocking at my fall. 
 
 Nor hold your banquets in my father's hall ; 
 
 Nor shall you revel in her beauties now, 
 
 Nor glory in the false one's broken vow.
 
 Hfi HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 No! I Avill act, in just resentment strong, 
 
 As late avenger in each former ^\a-ong; 
 
 Requite all injuries received of old, 
 
 And match the justice man has dared withhold." 
 
 Thus spoke the Chief, and from his girdle drew 
 
 His brazen bugle-horn, and loudly blew: 
 
 Shiill rung the strain, and instant from without, 
 
 Responsive rose the impatient robbers' shout, 
 
 Fierce rushed the ruffian band, and burst within. 
 
 With mmgling curses and terrific din, 
 
 Like straining bloodhounds round the Chief they stood, 
 
 And watched the signal for the work of l)lood. 
 
 Brandished aloft the robbers' weapons gleam, 
 And, flaslnng, glance beneath the taper's beam, 
 While partially the broken rays illume 
 Their nigged features, shaded by the plume 
 That o'er each brow imparts a deeper gloom. 
 Pale — trembling now, the ladies start aside, 
 And crowd in fearful groups around the bride; 
 The guests recoil afraid — e'en Arden shrinks. 
 And on his knee a faltering suppliant sinks: 
 " Oh ! I have wronged you, but in hour like this, 
 "When sparkles at my lip the cup of bliss, 
 Can you behold it yet untasted shine 
 And dash it down ? "' 
 
 " Thus was it daslied from mine ; 
 Thus did you blast each lingering hope, and steal 
 The last sole joy my wounded soul could feel,
 
 THE BANDIT. 87 
 
 And thus will I your budding hopes destroy 
 
 And blight them ere they ripen into joy. 
 
 Oh, Arden, you have driven me to deeds 
 
 At which my soul revolts, my nature bleeds, 
 
 For you have severed the last tie could l)iud 
 
 My soul in amity with humankind. 
 
 Stripped — exiled — deserted — under ban — 
 
 In you 1 still possessed one friend in man ; 
 
 But, lo ! your treachery has crowned my fall, 
 
 Stolen my last friend, and made me foe to all. 
 
 Then look around once more — behold these charms, 
 
 And that fair bride, now severed from your arms ; 
 
 Mark the late partners of your joy and see 
 
 The broken wreck of thy last revelry ; 
 
 And this, the scene of thy rejoicings view — 
 
 Survey all these, and bid them all adieu, 
 
 And tear from off your brow the bridal wreath 
 
 Before you meet the cold embrace of death!" 
 
 But ere his lingering arm could speed its aim, 
 
 The trembling Adelaide aftrighted came ; 
 
 Pale was her cheek, and tear-drops glistened there 
 
 Bright as the gems that sparkled in her hair, 
 
 And her clasped hands expressed a deep distress 
 
 That ill accorded with the bridal dress, 
 
 As thus in speechless agony of giief 
 
 She bent her lovely form before the Chief. 
 
 On Ulric's brow, each trace of fiiry flown — 
 
 The gloominess of grief remained alone. 
 
 He dropped the fatal point — who coidd Ibrbear 
 
 When tears implored and beauty urged the prayer ?
 
 88 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 But still internally his stubborn pride 
 Strove the best feelings of his heart to hide, 
 And still each pang he struggled to conceal, 
 As though he deemed it weakness thus to feel. 
 But Nature triumphed! Though he turned aside 
 Abrupt, his changing countenance to hide, 
 From his dark eyes unwonted tear-drops rushed 
 (So fi-om the smitten rock the waters gushed) ; 
 Beneath his cloak he sought the droj^s to shroud, 
 But bursting sighs bespoke his grief aloud. 
 
 " Oh, Adelaide ! a joyless wretch I came, 
 
 With frenzied purpose and infernal aim, 
 
 To 'venge the falsehood that had caused my woe. 
 
 And make thy blood as now thy tear-drops flow ; 
 
 But, lo ! my heart forgets not that it knew 
 
 The time, alas I it only throbbed for you, 
 
 And, loving yet, rebels against my will, 
 
 And prompts my faltering tongue to bless you still. 
 
 Be blessed I Forget my love ! The solemn vow 
 
 That with my wretched heart is broken now. 
 
 But, ah, to you may ne'er its sorrows reach, 
 
 And I alone feel wretched m the breach; 
 
 Forget all these I with that unhappy man 
 
 Who bids you still be happy — if you can!" 
 
 Faltei-ing she answered, but her faint reply 
 Was drowned amid the robbers' angry cry, 
 Whose scornful words strove vainly to condemn 
 The Chieftian's weakness as unknown to them ; 
 And one more daiing seized the kneeling bride — 
 " Be this my prize ! I claim her first !" he cried.
 
 THE BANDIT. 89 
 
 Siu'prised and awed, accustomed to his sway, 
 They loudly murmured, Ijut they still obey ; 
 Amid them all he stands, unhurt, alone, 
 And all the band submit and crouch to one! 
 
 " 'Tis vain. No longer I pretend to wield 
 The sword of justice, or the Aveak to shield, 
 Or hurl that vengeance which the Final Day 
 More surely and less l)lindly will repay. 
 Enough ! From all your oaths I noAv release ; 
 And this, my last command — Depart in peace. 
 Your Chief no longer, in some private cell, 
 Far from the Ijusy haunts of men, I'll dwell, 
 And strive to wash my many crimes away 
 By soiTowing nights, and sighs and tears liy day. 
 Would that ye also left your crimes, and then 
 Were less a scourge and curse to better men!" 
 
 As thus he spoke, in bitterness of heart, 
 He, sad and sorrowing, turned him to depart; 
 But, sudden bursting in the hall again. 
 Came Wolf, and led a strong and armed train. 
 " Behold our prize ! Yon sable plume behold ! 
 Seize — seize him! for his head is gold! 
 On, comrades, on!" — At once the robbers pom-ed 
 And seized the Chieftain ere he gained his sword. 
 One only dared to strike in his defence, 
 And smote the assailant, but at life's expense. 
 The Chieftain saw and seized the falling brand, 
 And broke resistless fi'om the circling band; 
 Then, as a Hon, when the foes smToimd, 
 Springs on the first and tears him to the ground, 
 12
 
 90 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 Headloim- lie rushed — death followed on each stroke — 
 
 And felled the foremost till the sabre broke. 
 
 Thrice Arden joining in the unequal strife 
 
 Had stayed the steel that pointed at hi^ life; 
 
 But soon a sword too keen — too surely prest — 
 
 Escaped his zeal and gored the Chieftain's breast. 
 
 He staggered — sunk — and on the bloody ground 
 
 Still feebly combated with all around, 
 
 Then rose again and rushed against the foe — 
 
 Another effort and a final blow ; — 
 
 "With steady purpose and unerring hand 
 
 He raised the fragment of the faithless brand ; 
 
 On Wolf with violence he pressed the blade, 
 
 And Hfeless at his feet the robber laid ! 
 
 Again he falls — faint, wounded, and beset. 
 
 He fights exhausted but undaunted yet. 
 
 More close the circling foes assault him round, 
 
 From every side he feels the biting Avound; 
 
 Blade after blade the crimson current drinks, 
 
 And steals his strength — he struggles — wavers — sinks ! 
 
 The broken sabre quits his feeble grasp. 
 
 And life just seems to hang upon a gasp. 
 
 Now ho can fight no more, but, doomed to die. 
 
 Gazes on liis murderers with angry eye : 
 
 Loud swells the shout for triumph vilely won, 
 
 The piize is conquered and the deed is done; 
 
 But other spoil invites— they turn to where 
 
 Blight diamonds sparkle 'mid dishevelled hair 
 
 Blest if no violence should take them there I 
 
 In vain they kneel, and gentler pity claim, 
 
 They plead to those who never knew the name.
 
 THE BAXDIT. 91 
 
 The robbers seize ! Init, bursting from the wall, 
 
 What sudden blaze illuminates the hall? 
 
 Is it the taper, or the robbers' aim, 
 
 Has set the lighted drapery in flame? 
 
 All through the robbers burst their fearful way — 
 
 Perhaps death to go — but never death to stay! 
 
 " Who fired the curtain ? 'Twas a foolish deed ! 
 Molest them not, but to the cave with speed. 
 Haste, comrades, bear yon body in your arms. 
 Ere yon red l)laze the villagers alarm !" 
 
 They seize the Chief unconscious of his lot,. 
 And wildly hurry from the fatal spot; 
 And wondering villagers collect the while 
 And gaze in terror on the burning pile. 
 
 With rapid stride the blaze ascends on high, 
 NoAV gains the roof and blushes in the sky; 
 Each space, each chink, the fiery guest betraj's, 
 And through each window bursts the angry blaze, 
 And rocking walls and burning beams impend. 
 And crackling timbers with a crash descend! 
 Downward they hurl, still blazing as they go. 
 And fall, half-smothering the flames below ! 
 And lo ! the brightest and the last of all — 
 One turret trembles at its threatened fall ; 
 In vain through many a long and stormy age 
 It braved the battle and the tempest's rage. 
 Now o'er its frowning crest, that once so proud 
 Looked down exulting o'er the misty cloud,
 
 92 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 The roaring* flames and spiral blazes curl, 
 And fire and smoke in mingled eddies whirl; — 
 It shakes — it totters on its shattered base, 
 And headlong falls with Ijrave Gleuallan's race. 
 Soon will tlic nettle's humble top alone 
 Look proudly down upon the fallen stone ; 
 And M'a-snng grass Avill flourish o'er the head 
 Of him who scarcely lingers from the dead. 
 
 Canto mjivh. 
 
 Loud crows the cock — the peasant's slumbers cease ! 
 He wakes to days of innocence and peace ; 
 And with the lark that leaves the yellow corn 
 Begins the matin song and hails the morn, 
 While peering in the East, the rising sun 
 Proclaims a bright, a new-born day begun; 
 Aurora, blushing, hails the god of day, 
 Who comes to kiss the glittering tears away; 
 And opening buds and flowers expanding rise. 
 And Ijlush with colours boiTowed fi'om the skies. 
 All wakens into life — the chiding hound 
 And huntsman's hem awake the echoes round, 
 And rouse the stag who hstens to the strain, 
 Then starts away and Ijounds along the plain !
 
 THE BANDIT. 93 
 
 Men, horses, hounds, the flying game pursue, 
 And ruddy health attends the happy crew. 
 
 Where'er they fall the pleasing rays adorn — 
 
 Now gild the stream, and now the waving corn. 
 
 On all they glow; — but ah! where'er they strike 
 
 They gild the e\'il and the good alike ; 
 
 The cloud that's golden when beneath the ray 
 
 Is gloomy, dark, and ugly when away. 
 
 The beam that played upon the rosy bower 
 
 Now gilds the summit of yon dungeon tower, 
 
 And, through the close and naiTOw grating cast, 
 
 Is hailed by the sad captive as his last ! 
 
 With that first ray the fettered Chieftain rose 
 From fearful visions and disturbed repose; 
 For him that sun would never rise again. 
 Towards the grate he dragged his heavy chain. 
 " This is my latest day, but ere I die, 
 Fain would I gaze upon the earth and sky. 
 Oh, heavens I how lovely is the new-born day ! 
 All Natm'e smiles, all beautiful and gay. 
 Oh, in my youth, what fairy dreams of bliss 
 Would Fancy picture on a morn like this! 
 When like the buds I felt my soul expand, 
 And pictured love and joy on every hand ! 
 When ne'er expecting aught less fair to find, 
 I ope'd my heart in love to all mankind. 
 
 " Ah ! thus my fancy in my youth's gay morn 
 Would her bright images of life adorn ;
 
 94 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 Yea — like you sky-lark that so gaily sings 
 
 To heaven, aspiring on exulting Avings — 
 
 "Would leave this world below and wildly soar 
 
 To add to that fair heaven one heaven more ; 
 
 Life, like yon firmament she drew serene, 
 
 Nor clouds obscured — nor storms disturbed the scene, 
 
 And Friendship, Pleasure, Love, and Hope, were given 
 
 To shine as stars in her ideal heaven ! 
 
 'Twas all delusion! What are earthly joys 
 
 But pleasing dreams our wakening destroys ; 
 
 And I have wakened, yea, to scenes of pain 
 
 That make me wish that I could dream again. 
 
 " Love is a madness — happiness a dream ! 
 And Hope and Friendship things that only seem. 
 I've tried them all, and found them all untrue. 
 And long have bid them and the world adieu; 
 I loved it once, and piized its idle state — 
 Suspected — then despised — and noAv— I hate!" 
 
 Thus spoke the Chief, but now in angry tone 
 He spoke aloud — " Why am I here alone ? 
 AMiy am I fettered when all else are free, 
 And left to act their crimes at large but me? 
 
 And greater villains that deserve my fate" 
 
 He turned indignantly and left the grate. 
 
 Where he could see the swallows round him skim, 
 
 And all in happy liberty but him. 
 
 E'en thus, a wild enthusiast in all 
 
 The Chief had been, and it had shed his fall.
 
 THE BANDIT. 95 
 
 One he had known — his honourable sire — 
 Such as his heart could cherish and admire, 
 And loved to imitate, and Fancy dressed 
 And with his virtues painted all the rest — 
 Free, open, generous, gay, noble, young, 
 Assailed too often by the flattering tongue ; 
 Affected love and preferred friendships fell, 
 He prized too highly and believed too well ; 
 Beloved, he thought, by all, and loving too, 
 These were the best, the happiest days he knew ; 
 Blest in his blindness ! For how blest is he 
 Who sees the world as it ought to be ; 
 AVho, pressed by want, or misery, or woe. 
 Still finds, or fancies, friends, but not a foe. 
 And with Despair successfully can cope, 
 Buoyed up by frail but never-failing Hope, 
 Though never realized, and blessed at last 
 If the veil drops not and reveals the past. 
 
 Not so with him, for soon as fortune wore 
 
 A frowning look, and friends were friends no more. 
 
 But shunned his woe, not blushing to condemn 
 
 The very faults that had exalted them ; 
 
 Or rising undisguised as open foes. 
 
 Scarce deigned to hide they triumphed in his woes; 
 
 But hailed the fall that left him now too weak 
 
 Just vengeance for their injuries to wreak ! 
 
 Then from his cheated eyes the film soon cleared. 
 
 And all the world's deformity appeared. 
 
 Once he had loved it, and too highly prized. 
 
 But now as strongly hated and despised
 
 96 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 He fled its vile contagion with speed — 
 
 A misanthrope — nor more in word than deed! 
 
 By Flattery, that with the world began 
 The woes, abasement, and the fall of man ; 
 That, demon-like, still ruins and beguiles. 
 And while betraying each sad victim smiles ! 
 Thus felt the Chief. How hapless are the great, 
 If such their evils and too oft their fate. 
 Truth they ne'er know divested of disguise, 
 And scarcely see but through another's eyes; — 
 But, knoAving other men — and, what is more. 
 Knowing themselves — how liappy are the poor; 
 Too oft condemned for vices they have not, 
 And scarce allowed the virtues they have got; 
 None ever flatter them — nor oft they foil 
 Betrayed by vanity or flattering tale. 
 
 But to my theme. The Chieftain turned away 
 As though he sought to shun the light of day. 
 On his hard couch he threw his limbs once more, 
 All racked with pain, or stiff with clotted gore; 
 And while across his pale and varying cheek 
 The sudden throbs of anguish seemed to speak. 
 His wild and working brain apjocared as fraught 
 With far more keen and agonizing thought; 
 Remembrance, perhaps, of gay and happier times, 
 Linked with the memory of after crimes, 
 And keen remorse that shudders o'er the past. 
 With deep regret for joys that fled too fast, 
 And doubtings of the future and his fate. 
 And all the soitows of his present state.
 
 THE BANDIT. 97 
 
 AVith all their varied pangs, were iniugled there, 
 Nor sunk nor settled, but in calm despair. 
 
 Oh, who can speak that wandering of tliought, 
 When, with all varied recollections fraught. 
 In wild confusion the bewildered brain 
 Now turns from woe to joy — from joy to pain ; 
 Now sinks and saddens over present woes, 
 And now o'er scenes of former pleasure glows; 
 Regretting joys and means which, once possessed. 
 If better known or valued, would have blessed ; 
 Thus boiled the Chieftain's brain, and pondered o'er 
 The scenes of long-lost happiness once more. 
 
 Yes; 'twas the mansion of his sires he eyed. 
 Such as it had l)ecn in the days of pride. 
 Though many a lingering, long, and painful day 
 Since he had left its roof had passed away ; 
 Yet could not time nor misery efface 
 Of former joys the long remembered trace. 
 No ; though each hope of happiness had flown — 
 Had left the bitterness of life alone ; 
 Though deeds of guilt his soul had long bereft 
 Of the last solace to the wretched left; 
 Undimmed the retrospect of happy years 
 Shone bright through times of misery and tears; 
 And oft, as in delusive dream restored, 
 We greet departed friends we've long deplored, 
 His mind forgot the sense of present pain, 
 And di-eamed o'er scenes of happiness again. 
 13
 
 98 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 E'en now, abstracted from liis present state, — 
 His pain, misfortune, and impending fate, — 
 His mind retraced tlie ever-pleasing scene 
 Of things, times, pleasm'cs, feelings that had been. 
 
 But, suddeidv, a harsh discordant sound 
 Roused him to consciousness of things around. 
 He started, and strove vainly to recall 
 The fleeting phantoms on the dungeon wall, 
 But they had fled in air like parting breath, 
 And left him with the Messenger of Death! 
 
 ^Vith calm, unaltered voice, unvarying cheek. 
 The fated Prisoner was the first to speak: 
 "I know thy message — no unwelcome one 
 To him whose days of misery are done. 
 The time is gone such tidings could impart 
 Reluctance, grief, or terror to my heart. 
 Too long the cup of bitterness I 've quaffed 
 "Without one hope e'er mingled in the draught 
 To quit tliis wretched being with regret ; 
 And as for Death — why, I can brave him yet ; — 
 Nay, as an Angel — Harbinger of Peace — 
 I'll hail the Spectre if he bring release!"' 
 
 "Enough I'' 
 
 Harsh as the grating liinge, and rough, 
 Responsive rung the keeper's loud " Enough." 
 Sui-prised, lie turned again — ne'er till that hour, 
 Of all the inmates of that gloomy tower,
 
 THE BANDIT. 99 
 
 None had he known who gazed on Death so near 
 
 With such rejoicing and so Httle fear. 
 
 But, lo ! he started as he seemed to trace 
 
 Some dear remembrance in the captive's face ; 
 
 Swift to embrace the prisoner he flew — 
 
 "Oh, heaven! — my lord — my master — is it you?" 
 
 Up rose the Cliieftain with a sudden start, 
 That voice had struck upon liis throbbing heart ! 
 " Ha ! Is it Donald ! or a mocking dream ? 
 Are these things so, or do they only seem? 
 Am I awake ? The gaoler bent the knee — 
 "Alas, no dream — dear master, I am he!" 
 
 All pride forgotten quite, the Chieftain pressed 
 His former steward warmly to his breast, 
 But rudely bursting from the Chief's embrace 
 He paused, and wildly gazed around the place. 
 
 " Oh, I forgot you lingered here to die. 
 Behold the keys ! Oh, take them now and fly : 
 My clothes, perchance, will happily disguise 
 And shroud your person from more careless eyes. 
 For, ah, though Arden kneels before the throne, 
 I fear 'twill change the pmiishment alone — 
 The gibbet to the block — our nobles hate 
 The noble soul that made you once so great. 
 No hope remains but this — let me implore 
 Your speedy flight." 
 
 The Cliieftain frowned — " No more ! 
 Perchance 'tis justice dooms me now to bleed,
 
 100 HOOD I\ SCOTLAND. 
 
 And you would save me by a traitor's deed ! 
 When have I fled my foes or valued life, 
 Or shrunk when Death menaced me in the strife? 
 Perhaps one more in love with life than I 
 Would hail the terms, but now I scorn to fly ! 
 Beside your hate and punishment, too sure, 
 Would leave my safety still too insecm-e." 
 
 Proudly he aiiswered — '• Have you then forgot 
 The loathsome dungeon — once my cruel lot 
 To linger there a sad and joyless time — 
 ^lisfortune's punishment, and not for crime? 
 Your bounty freed me thence, and now 'tis due 
 From gratitude to pay the same for you. 
 And, ah ! my life I cheerfully resign. 
 For many woes — few comforts — ^now are mine! 
 Oh, add one more — 0, hark! The warning bell. 
 One short hour more, it tolls your parting knell. 
 I pray ! — I kneel !" 
 
 " give me not the pain," 
 The Chieftain said, " to see you kneel in vain. 
 I am resolved — a solemn oath I swore 
 To leave these hated walls with life no more. 
 That oath I keep ; luit, would you glad my soul, 
 Bring me a dagger or a poisoned bowl. 
 This last request I urge with latest breath, 
 Oh ! spare your Chief an ignominious death !" 
 
 " Alas, I know Glenallan's word too well 
 
 To hope to move you now, my Lord — Farewell !
 
 THE BANDIT. 101 
 
 I have a dagger, but my heart shall feel 
 Its deepest reach ere you sliall use the steel. 
 What ! can no other haud but mind be pressed 
 To lend the dagger for ray Patron's breast ! 
 Ah! it must be! once more, my lord, adieu; 
 ]\ry death alone surrenders it to you I " 
 
 He raised his hand, l3ut with a sudden clasp 
 The Chieftain caught the dagger in his grasp. 
 "Ha! Now 1 laugh to scorn the feeble cliain. 
 The guarded fortress shall not e'en detain. 
 In vain shall vengeful crowds imjmtient flock 
 To see my head fall streaming from the block ; 
 Exulting peers shall not behold me fall, 
 And for their tortures I elude them all. 
 Dungeon and fetters may the limbs control, 
 But what can fetter or confine the soul? 
 Now I am free — live to behold me die. 
 And tell the world Glenallan scorned to fly; 
 And tell with all the courage of a friend 
 No sign of weakness marked my latter end. 
 Live, I command you ! say to Arden this — 
 I thank his zeal and pray heaven send him bliss ; 
 
 Tell him to love " it died upon his tongiie, 
 
 The gaoler's hand in agony he wrung. 
 
 Each strove to speak, but wept, embraced anew. 
 
 They only in their hearts could say — "Adieu!" 
 
 Thus had they lingered, but the distant sound 
 Of hurried footsteps broke the silence round. 
 Still nearer comes the noise — they rush apart, 
 A moment more, he aims against his heart —
 
 102 HOOD IN SCOTLAXT). 
 
 'Tis missed — he strikes again — too sure the aim — 
 The deathless spirit quits its mortal frame, 
 That still and silent lies amid its gore, 
 And tells to all — Glenallan is no more ! 
 
 Again the bolts recede, the jarring din 
 
 No more disturbs the piisoner within ; 
 
 He wakes no more, nor can that sound impart 
 
 One quicker throb of terror to his heart ; 
 
 Too late the lingering voice of mercy calls, 
 
 And "Pardon!" "Pardon!" echoes to the walls. 
 
 He hears it not — nor would the tidings give 
 
 j\rore joy, perchance, or pleasure did he live. 
 
 But o'er his body liath he still a friend. 
 
 Who seems in silent agony to bend. 
 
 All knew his crimes too well, and some had wept 
 
 The loss of friends where his revenge had swept. 
 
 But Arden weeps his breathless body o'er. 
 
 And Donald's tears are mingled with his gore ; 
 
 Together now they pour the sorrowing sigh, 
 
 Nor let liirii quite unwept, unpitied die! 
 
 '^'^^^W\S
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Hooil extends his Acciuaintanccship in Dundee — His love of Chess — Experiences 
 as an Angler — A Literary Tobacco-Spinner — The Boatmen and Fislicrinen 
 of tlie Craig Pier — His love of Books — Departure for London. 
 
 In the autumn and winter, Hood extended the number 
 of liis acquamtances, paid visits, and was on the whole 
 well received. George Rollo and Andrew Wyllie, to judge 
 from the correspondence, seem to have been his most 
 intimate acquaintances. The trio were enthusiastic chess 
 players, and many a keen contest took place between 
 them. Hood had a strong lilvuig for the game, and he 
 frequently refers to it in his earlier letters. After he 
 returned to London lie retained his love for it, and Avhen 
 any of his acquaintances paid a visit he was sure to have 
 a bout with them. The chessmen used in Dundee are in 
 possession of Mr Rollo. 
 
 When summer returned in 1816, Hood renewed his 
 acquaintance Avith his friends in the Carse. He became a 
 skilful angler, and whipped the pows, burns, and streams, 
 in search of their finny treasures. The love for this
 
 104 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 beultliy recreation grew upon him, and even Avhile resid- 
 ing in the pent-up atmosphere of the Overgate he would 
 sHp away for a day's outing on the banks of a favourite 
 stream. The following interesting pictm-e of this period is 
 taken from the "Reminiscences." "Whenever the weather 
 permitted," he says, "whicli was generally when there 
 were no new books to the fore, I haunted the banks and 
 braes, or paid flying visits to the burns, with a rod 
 intended to punish that rising generation amongst fishes 
 called trout. But I whipped in vain. Trout there Avere 
 ill plenty ; but, like obstinate double teeth with a bad 
 operator, they would neither be pulled out nor come out 
 of themselves. Still the sport, if it might be so called, 
 liad its own attractions, as — the catchmg excepted — the 
 Avholc of the Waltonish enjoyments were at my command 
 — the contemplative quiet, the sweet, wholesome country 
 air, and the pictm-esque scenery, not to forget relishing 
 the homely repast at the shieling or the mill. Sometimes 
 I went alone, but often we were a company, and then we 
 had as an attendant a journeyman tobacco spinner, an 
 onginal, and literary withal, for ho had a reel in his head, 
 whence ever and anon he unwoimd a line of Allan Ramsay, 
 or Beattie, or Burns. Methinks I still listen, trudging 
 homewards in tlie gloaming, to the recitation of that 
 appropriate stanza, beginning — 
 
 'At the close of the day when the hamlet is still,' 
 
 delivered with a gusto perhaps only to be felt by a day 
 labouring mechanic, who had 'nothing but his evenings 
 to himself.' I^Iethinks I still sympathize with the zest
 
 A LITERARY TOBACCO SPINNER. 105 
 
 ■with wliicli he dwelt on the pastoral images and dreams 
 so rarely realized, when a chance holiday gave him the 
 fresh-breathing fragrance of the living flower in lien of 
 the stale odour of the Indian weed ; and philosophically 
 I can now understand why poetry with its lofty aspira- 
 tions and sublime feelings seemed to sound so gratefully 
 to the car from the lips of a 'squire of low degree.' 
 There is something painful and humiliating to humanity 
 in the abjectness of mind that too often accompanies the 
 sordid condition of the working classes, whereas it is 
 soothing and consolatory to find the mind of the poor 
 man rising superior to his estate, and compensating by 
 intellectual enjoyment for the physical pains and privation 
 that belong to his humble lot. Whatever raises him 
 above the level of the ox in the garner or the horse 
 in the mill ought to be acceptable to the pride, if not 
 to the charity, of the fellow-creature that calls him 
 brother." 
 
 These are fine sentiments, and show that Hood, when 
 he gave expression to them, well understood the feelings 
 of an intelligent working-man, released from toil, setting 
 off to the hills to sniff the " caller air," free and un- 
 trammelled. Every effort has been made to find out the 
 literary tobacco spinner, but without success. He seems 
 to have been one of those sedate, unostentatious men, 
 gifted with the best of talents, to be found quietly 
 plodding in many a workshop, but who never rise above 
 their labour. Great readers, clear thinkers, clever men 
 in their way ; toiling through life for their daily bread, 
 their light ever burning beneath a bushel, they go down 
 to the grave unknown, except to the limited circle in
 
 lOt^ HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 ^vl^c•ll tlicy have moved. Siicli, so far as can be ascer- 
 tained, -vvas this companion of Hood's. 
 
 '* To these open-air pm\smts," adds the poet, " saihng 
 was afterwards added, bringing me acquainted with the 
 boatmen and fishermen of the Craig, a hardy race, rough 
 and ready--\\dtted, fi'om whom perchance was fii'st derived 
 my partiaHty for all marine bipeds and sea-ci'aft, from 
 Flag Admirals down to Jack Junk, the proud first-rate 
 to the humble boatic that ' wins the bairn's bread.' The 
 Tay at Dundee is a broad, noble river, with a racing tide, 
 which, when it differs with a contrary wind, will get up 
 'jars^ (Anglice, waves) quite equal to those of a family 
 manufacture. It was at least a good preparatory school 
 for learning the rudiments of boatcraft, whereof I acquired 
 enough to be able at need to take the helm without 
 either going too near the wind or too distant from the 
 port. Not ■s\dthout some boyish pride I occasionally 
 fomid myself entrusted Avith the guidance of the coach 
 boat — so called from its carrying the passengers by the 
 p]dinburgh mail — particularly in a calm, when the utmost 
 exertions of the crew, four old man-of-Avars men, were 
 required at the oars. It not unfrequently happened that 
 the 'laddie' was unceremoniously ousted by the unani- 
 mous vote, and sometimes by the united strength, of the 
 ladies, who invariably pitched upon the oldest old gentle- 
 man in the vessel to 
 
 • Steer her up and hand her gaun.' " 
 
 Svicli was Hood's mode of living while resident in 
 Dundee. He came as a stranger, and with the exception
 
 PRACTISES ENGRAVING. 107 
 
 of making the acquaintance of a select coterie of frieiulK, 
 he departed as snch. He was distant and retiring in liis 
 manners, and his bodily complaints caused him rather to 
 shun than seek the society of those of his own age and 
 station in life. He was full of jollity and pawkiness, and, 
 although he could not enter heartily into Scottish sports 
 and pastimes, he appreciated them all the same. Like 
 most young men of delicate constitutions, he devoted him- 
 self to the cultivation of his mind by reading every book 
 that came within his reach. He seems, too, to have set 
 himself to the acquirement of a correct knowledge of the 
 principles of art, as his sketching proclivities will show, 
 to qualify himself as an engraver, an occupation which at 
 this time it was his intention of following. Literature he 
 ardently loved, but it was more in the light of an 
 accomplishment than a profession. He did not dream 
 of making it the means by which he was to push his 
 way in the world. His hope lay in the skilful use of the 
 buiin, and to the attainment of that end he at that time 
 shaped his energies. 
 
 The rupture between Hood and his aunt may have 
 been healed before he left for the south. There is a 
 paucity of information on this point. IMrs Keay was reti- 
 cent on the subject — Hood is silent ; but their fiiends 
 always understood that there had been an "awfu' quarrel" 
 between them. 
 
 The date of Hood's return to London cannot be defi- 
 nitely fixed. It may have been in the autumn of 1816 or 
 the spring of 1817. At all events, we find from the first 
 of the following letters that he was engaged in business 
 as an engraver in 1818.
 
 108 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 It "vvill also be seen that he received occasional visits 
 from one or tAVo of his old acquaintances. Wyllie, Kollo, 
 and Shaw frequently called upon him. Both Rollo and 
 Shaw resided for a considerable time in the metropolis ; 
 and it was only after Hood left for Coblentz that their 
 intimacy was interrupted, to be resumed again, in the case 
 of Shaw only, Avhen the poet paid his second visit to 
 Dundee in 1843.
 
 
 CHAPTER Vir. 
 
 LETTERS 
 
 WRITTEN BY HOOD AFTER HIS FIRST VISIT TO DUNDEE. 
 
 Hood in London — Improved Health — His love of Chess — His Business as an 
 Engi-aver — Sketch of Mcssieux of St. Andrews— "The Dundee Guide" — 
 Desire for Travel — Business Increasing — Length of Apprenticesliip to Engrav- 
 ing—Orders a Highland Plaid — Anticipates another Visit to Scotland- 
 Death of his Mothei' — His Love for her— Supports Himself and Sisters by 
 his Labour. 
 
 Somewhere near Islington Chnrcli, 
 Sometime about 7th February [1819]. 
 
 Dear George, — I received 3'our obliging letter per 
 Mr Wyllie, and am grateful to you for the great pleasure 
 ■which it afforded me. 
 
 I promised Mr W. to call on him and try his strength 
 at chess, which I have yet been unable to do, for Christ- 
 mas brought me no vacation, and this, I trust, will excuse 
 and account with you for my delay in answering your 
 letter. 
 
 I have the pleasure in being able to tell you tliat the 
 improvement in my health leaves me now little to wish
 
 110 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 for ou that head, added to which my business and coii- 
 uection gradually extend. In short, that I succeed as 
 "vvell as I can reasonably expect in these days of universal 
 depression. The little crosses and vexations, and the 
 chicaneries of business in general, are now less new to 
 me, and I can meet them with comjDarative calmness, so 
 that in another year I hope to be tolerably settled. 
 
 I have made an alteration in the nature of my amuse- 
 ments, and flatter myself that they have now a more 
 useful tendency, and may in the end be of benefit both 
 to myself and others. I sometimes devote an hour to 
 little mechanical inventions connected with my pursuits, 
 and sometime ago completed a little instrument which I 
 deem would be serviceable in copying drawings, &c. I 
 sent it to the Society of Arts, and had the honour of 
 explaining it before the Society's Committee on ]\Iechanics, 
 but found they were in possession of a similar one for 
 the same pm-pose I had never seen. This was rather 
 unlucky, but I have another one in progress which may 
 succeed better. At anyrate I lose notliing. 
 
 I am at present trying to perfect an instrument for 
 drawing lines to meet in a point at any distance, as used 
 in perspective, in order to l^c able to draw them without 
 going beyond the margin of your dramng, and thus 
 obviating the inconvenience of having to rule so far. 
 
 Since Avriting the above I have had the pleasure of 
 seeing ]\Ir Wyllie, who called to inquire the reason of 
 my not seeing him, and I have returned his visit, and 
 have, moreover, engaged him at chess, gaining five battles 
 out of six. But one trial, of course, is not sufficient to 
 determine the mastery. I must confess that I was afraid
 
 HIS LOVE OF CHESS. Ill 
 
 my want of practice would have served me worse, but, 
 after leaving your country unconquered, I was resolved 
 not to be beaten by your countryman on my own ground 
 if I could help it. I shall now provide myself with a set, 
 which I have hitherto been without for mere Avant of 
 somebody to play with. It is true that a young lady 
 within a few doors of us desires me to teach her to play 
 at chess, but to learn it requires so much patience that 
 I am not anxious to attempt the task, recollecting that 
 Job was not a woman. 
 
 I should nmcli like to know if Messieux has returned, 
 and to have his address at St. Andrews, if you could pro- 
 cure it for me. He called here Avhen I was with you, 
 but I have not heard of or from him since. If ever 
 you see him in Dundee I wish you would tell him to send 
 it himself, or come yni\\ it himself, — whichever may be 
 most convenient. 
 
 With respect to what you are pleased to call my 
 poem, you may delay it till any convenient time, as it is 
 of no other use to me but to show of what has been the 
 nature of my amusements. I cannot now find time for 
 anything of the kind, except a few short bagatelles as 
 New Year compliments, &c. &c. And, let me here, in 
 adverting to those compliments, present you Avith my 
 sincere wishes for that happiness which one friend should 
 wish to another, and which it is customary to offer rather 
 earlier; but, I assure you, they have not lost in strength 
 like some things by long keeping, and therefore still are 
 fit for me to present to you for yours and your brother's 
 acceptance — only, that I regret to be thus obliged to send 
 them wrapped up in paper!
 
 112 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 I have said that I cannot find tiniu to write such 
 things now— and, indeed, after the study and close appli- 
 cation necessary in engraving, it would cease to be any 
 relaxation. But, independent of this employment, I have 
 to keep my 1)Ooks (not my ledger, for that is kept too 
 easily), but my note and plate books, in which I keep 
 account of any hints, occurrences, discoveries, instruc- 
 tions, &c. *fcc., relative to the art, together with a journal 
 of my (jA\'u operations and transactions — history of my 
 plates, my own comments and those of otliers, difficulties, 
 failures, successes, &c. &c. &c. &c., so that I have enough 
 to do in that Avay, Altogether, these compose rather a 
 medlied history, and one perhaps that will afford me 
 more pleasure to peruse hereafter than it does at present. 
 
 In fact, I am now obliged to turn the amusing, if I 
 can, into the profitable, not that I am ambitious or of a 
 very money-lovhig disposition, but I am obliged to be 
 so. Otherwise, I believe, if left to myself, I should be 
 content Avith a very moderate station, for, like you, I 
 believe I am of a " domestic indolent turn." But this is 
 all speculative reasoning, perhaps ; and I might find — 
 tliat summit attained — that the content was as far off as 
 ever, increasing by a kind of aritlunetical progression. 
 Thus, when seen from the valley, the summit of the 
 mountain appears to touch the skies ; but when we have 
 ascended and reached its top, we seem, and no doubt are, 
 as far from heaven as ever I 
 
 The most provoking part of my profession is that the 
 fame and the profit are so connected that those who wish 
 to decrease the price can only do it by depreciating the 
 merit and withholding that fame which is, in fact, part of
 
 DATE OF COMMENCING BUSINT:SS. 113 
 
 the price. This is all so much the worse for me, now 
 that I have grown so wise, that if they took away the 
 former I could philosophically console myself with the 
 latter. I find that I am not yet quite sharp enough to 
 cope with veteran men of business, but suppose every 
 rub they give me will make my wit much keener. I am 
 now tolerably content with Avhat I pay for my experi- 
 ence, considering I have just concluded my first year's 
 apprenticeship to the world. 
 
 I hope you will decipher this, for I see it is vilely 
 scrawled; but deeming it more fiiendly to meet you en 
 deshabille than to deny myself to you, I send it ^vith this 
 one request that you will put those stops which I cannot 
 stop to put. 
 
 Remember me kindly to your brother and all friends, 
 and believe me, dear George, yours very truly, 
 
 Thos. Hood. 
 
 P.S. — I do not know anybody through whom you may 
 send anything except Wyllie, unless Captain Lyon would 
 bring it here. 
 
 The foregomg letter bears no date ; but, as will be 
 shown in a subsequent letter that Hood commenced busi- 
 ness in 1818, and as he states that he had "just con- 
 cluded his first year's apprenticeshij) to the world," it 
 must have been written in 1819. His prospects as 
 an engraver do not at this period appear to be very 
 bright. He does not despond, but speaks in hopeful 
 tones of success. The '"Dear George" to whom this and 
 15
 
 114 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 the three siicceediug letters were written was his com- 
 panion in Dundee, Mr George Rollo, of Harefield, Lochee, 
 and brother of the late Provost Rollo, an eminent legal 
 practitioner of the town. Mr Andrew ^Vyllie has already 
 been referred to. He was the son of Mr George Wyllie, 
 manufacturer, who Avas amongst the leading merchants of 
 Dundee at the end of last and beginning of the present 
 century. The elder Wyllie had business connections in 
 Antwerp and London. These were superintended by the 
 son, wlio, ha\ang made Hood's acquaintance at j\Irs Butter- 
 worth's, frequently visited him while in the metropolis. 
 The intimacy between the two young men, which was 
 of the most friendly nature, was terminated by the pre- 
 mature death of Wyllie, who succumbed to illness brought 
 on by injudiciously bathing in the Tay, his death taking 
 place in the autumn of 1825. AVhile Hood resided in 
 Dundee he often visited Mr Wyllie's house, in Murraygate, 
 adjoining the premises of his friend, Mr Hood, the mer- 
 chant, whose pony he so often bestrode. Mr Wyllie 
 had a sister, and the young man on one of liis visits 
 engraved her name upon a favourite writing-desk. Miss 
 Wyllie aftca'wards became the wife of her father's partner, 
 Mr "William Johnston, who in 1841 was elected Provost 
 of the town. The desk was carefully preserved, Mrs 
 Johnston retaining it as one of her household treasures 
 dunng her lifetime, and at death bequeathing it to her 
 son. My Alexander Johnston, architect, who appreciates 
 it as an interesting souvenir of the poet. Hood also refers 
 to one of his early compositions, which he had left in the 
 hands of Mr K(j11(j. This is the poem which has already 
 been quoted.
 
 SKETCH OF MESSIEUX. 115 
 
 Hood, ill the foregoing letter, frequently mentions a 
 gentleman bearing the name of Messieux. In one of the 
 letters in the "Memorials," dated Dmidee, September 1815, 
 he gives a description of his fellow-lodgers, amongst whom, 
 he says — " At present we have a Swiss, who appears to be 
 an agreeable man, but I do not know how he may be 
 on further acquaintance." Messieux was a Swiss, and 
 the gentleman referred to in Hood's letter. From what 
 we have been able to learn, it seems that Samuel Messieux 
 and his brother Adam came about the same time as Hood to 
 Dundee, where they intended to settle as teachers of 
 languages. Samuel and Hood were soon on terms of 
 intimacy, which ripened into friendship. The brothers 
 Messieux were remarkable men. A gentleman who was 
 many years the colleague of Samuel in Madras College, 
 St. Andrews, states that they Avere the sons of a 
 landed proprietor in Switzerland. On the death of their 
 father, the property was, by Swiss law, divided among 
 eleven childi-en ; and, as is also usual, these two, having 
 sold their portions to their elder brother, and having had 
 a university education at Constance, came to this country 
 to see the world and establish themselves in a pro- 
 fession. Samuel at first settled in Dundee and Adam 
 ill Aberdeen as teachers of modern languages. Both 
 ultimately gravitated towards St. Andrews as a more 
 promismg field, but not before they had made warm 
 friends in their early settlements. 
 
 When Samuel was in Dundee it chanced that Thomas 
 Hood came from London and lodged in the same house. 
 They immediately became intimate, and, when the former 
 went to St. Andi-ews, Hood occasionally visited him in
 
 IK) HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 that city. The brothers became great favourites with 
 the best society of St. Andrews, taking to its sports 
 and ways with the zest of young and generous natures. 
 They became first-rate golfers ; and were elected members 
 of the Royal and Ancient Golf Club. They were ex- 
 cellent amateur actors ; good at billiards ; and were well 
 bred, cultured, and highly esteemed members of the small 
 but critical society of those times. Many stories are 
 extant of their doings in St. Andrews, one being re- 
 corded in the club minutes to the effect that Samuel 
 one winter day at golf drove the longest or rather the 
 farthest ball that had then or ever been achieved. 
 Another and still more wonderful feat is told of Adam, 
 who, on the occasion of a pair of carriage horses taking 
 fright in Castle Street, where he lodged, rushed after 
 them, and, just in time to save the occupants of the 
 machine, managed to head, and, by dint of main strength, 
 at the imminent danger of his own life, to swerve the 
 horses from the road by the Castle, thus averting what 
 might have turned out a serious, if not fatal, accident. 
 Their courage, strength, and gentleness were proverbial, 
 and they might in a Avord be described as " Alpine " in 
 character. I\Ir Samuel Messieux was appointed Master 
 of ^lodern Languages in Madras College when it was 
 opened in 1832, and held the appointment till about 
 twenty-five years ago, when, his eyesight failing, he was 
 pensioned, but only to survive for the space of two years 
 or so. Shortly after Samuel's appointment to Madras 
 College his brother Adam left for Switzerland. " My 
 memories of Samuel," continues his old colleague, "are still 
 fresh and altogether pleasant. In conversation, manner,
 
 LETTER TO R. MILN. 117 
 
 and address, he was as nearly perfect as I have known — 
 a warm friend, both witty and wise. I am not snr- 
 prised that Hood should have taken to him so warmly 
 and kindly, for Messieux was the soul of honour — simple 
 and true, and swift of mind to catch and appreciate 
 such gifts as those of Hood. He was endowed with 
 many excellent qualities, which made him worthy of 
 our own country and an honour to his birth-land." 
 
 Such is a description of one of Hood's earliest and most 
 valued acquaintances in Scotland, and the relationship 
 between the two seems to have been very cordial. 
 Messieux formed one of the coterie of jovial " young 
 bachelors," and doubtless contributed largely to the happi- 
 ness of the little circle. As the S^viss exercised his 
 vocation in Dundee for sometime, it is probable that Hood 
 obtained his knowledge of the French language from 
 that gentleman. Messieux died a number of years ago, 
 and his widow and family left St. Andrews and settled 
 in Paris. 
 
 II. 
 
 The following letter, which was addressed to the late 
 Mr Robert Miln, another of the poet's early companions, 
 throws further light on the nature of the poet's studies 
 and amusements while in Dundee. It has been kindly 
 forwarded by Mr R. Findlay Miln of Hoylake, Cheshire — 
 Mr Miln's son. Encouraged by the success wliich his con- 
 tributions to the Advertiser and Magazine had met, it seems
 
 118 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 to have been Hood's intention to follow these up by a series 
 of rhymhig letters descriptive of the town, and framed on 
 the principles of "Anstey's Bath Guide," to which reference 
 is made in a letter quoted in the "Memorials." These 
 lettei-s formed a MS. volume, which he entitled the 
 " Dundee Guide." Nothing decisive appears to have been 
 done, and the letters were held hi abeyance till 1820, 
 when Mr Miln makes inquiry about them. The follow- 
 ing interesting letter in reply shows that Hood still con- 
 templated then- appearance in print, for he not only gives 
 direction as to the manner of their publication, but 
 adds a preface, m which he tries to efface his own 
 identity as their author. 
 
 Lower Street, Islington, May 1820. 
 
 Dear Rob, — I have sent to my fiiend Rollo, — who 
 \vi\\ hand you this letter, — the book which you have 
 requested me to send to you — the Dundee Guide — and 
 which I have been unable to procure till lately. 
 
 Upon looking it over I think that many of the 
 subjects to which it refers will now be out of date, 
 and particularly that part of it beginnmg — 
 
 "And the French jockey hat is now worn in this town," 
 
 and ending at — 
 
 " He without her consent would not steal e'en a kiss," 
 
 which I have marked for you to omit m case you 
 should make that use of it which was proposed. It
 
 "DUNDEE GUIDE." 119 
 
 would be better, I presume, to send a few of the letters 
 together instead of a single one at first, in order that 
 the editor might see the design of them ; and I shall 
 endeavour to send a preface addressed to that gentle- 
 man, in case you should think proper, on conference 
 Avith Mr R., to make that use of them. 
 
 I have numbered the letters ui the order in which 
 I should wish them to follow, and marked some omissions in 
 pencil. 
 
 I fear they are nut worth the trouble of your writing 
 out, and I cannot forget that lawyers are not over fond 
 of writing for nothing. 
 
 I have now no news, but, hoping for at least as 
 many lines in retm-n, I am, dear Bob, yours truly, 
 
 Thos. Hood. 
 
 P.S. — I write, as you will perceive, in great haste. 
 
 Hood did not wait to write the preface separately 
 to the editor, but indites it on the fly-leaf of the same 
 letter he sent to Miln. It is as follows : — 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Sir, — Although it is well known that Bath and 
 Cheltenham have been visited by the celebrated Blunder- 
 head Family, it has hitherto been unknown that some 
 of their descendants have visited the town of Dundee 
 in strict incognito.
 
 120 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 This fact is, however, confirmed by some letters which 
 have fallen into my hands, which I have arranged, and 
 with the permission of the author, now send to be in- 
 serted, if you thmk fit, in your weekly paper. 
 
 Some subjects to which they refer may now be 
 paiiially out of date, as they were Avritten in 1<^15, but 
 some remarks may still be applicable. — I am, Sn, 
 yours, &c. 
 
 Thos. Hood. 
 
 Whatever negotiations ]\Ir ]\Iiln had -with the editor 
 of the Advertiser — for the Mr R. referred to in the letter 
 was I\Ir Rintoul, editor of that paper — nothing satis- 
 factory resulted from them. The files of the Dundee 
 Advertiser for 1820, 1821, and 1822, have been searched, 
 but not a single trace of anything appertainmg to the 
 " Guide " can be found. The files of the Dundee Courier 
 were submitted to the same scrutiny, with a like 
 result. 
 
 The following letter tells us that the Guide has been 
 lost ; but we entertained hopes that some of the letters 
 might have made their way into the columns of the paper, 
 and therefore made the search. With the exception of 
 the quotations from the Scrap-book forwarded to his 
 aunt, the remainder of the Dundee Guide is lost beyond 
 recovery. 
 
 In the annexed letter Hood speaks cheerfully of his 
 prospects.
 
 DIS.U:>PEARANCE OF " DUNDEE GUIDE." 121 
 
 III. 
 
 Lower Street, January, sometime 1820. 
 
 Dear George, — Mr Wyllie, in bringing me your wel- 
 come letter, found me very busy upon a plate fi'om a 
 draAving of a gentleman's seat which I told you, I think, 
 nearly a year ago, I was endeavouring to obtain. I 
 have just got it, and, as it is for a very fine work, I 
 am obliged to pay very close attention to it, working 
 fi'om ten morning till ten or eleven o'clock at night 
 for these last three weeks, so that this Christmas season 
 has brought me no hoHdays. But as I had been more 
 idle before, and hunting for business rather than doing 
 it (a general case now), I sit down to it cheerfully, 
 and especially as it shall open to me, if I succeed, a 
 new and wider path. I have done so far as to form 
 some idea of how it Avill be, and am induced to hope 
 favourably. 
 
 From the midst of all this I write in order to ease your 
 mind on the subject of a disaster, which in vexing you 
 one hour has vexed you more than it has me, for I 
 assure you your description of it had no other effect than 
 that of making me laugh. The sudden and mysteiious 
 disappearance of the Dundee Guide has in it somethmg so 
 romantic as to make a very fine sequel to its history, by 
 leading one to imagine that Apollo — or one of the Nine 
 Muses, perhaps — had taken possession of it. I will tell you, 
 
 too, a secret for your comfort, that the loss, even if great, 
 16
 
 122 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 "vvdiild not be iiTeparablc, for I could, if necessary, write 
 afresh from memory, and nearly verbatim. It is the same 
 with nearly all the rest of my effusions, some of which I 
 shall hereafter send for your perusal, to show you that I 
 do not consider you the " careless friend " you represent 
 yom-self to be. I continue to receive much pleasure from 
 our literary society, and from my own pursuits in that 
 way — in which, considering my little time, I am very 
 industrious — that is to say, I spoil a deal of paper. My 
 last is a mock heroic love tale of GOO Ihies, with notes 
 critical and explanatory, which I lately finished after many 
 intervals, independent of two poetical addresses to the 
 society on closing and opening a fresh session, with 
 various ^jieces, chiefly amatory. The society only costs 
 me a page or two once in three mouths or so, but I join 
 in their discussions every fortnight, if able. I receive few 
 visits, and I pay still fewer, and thus my time wears away. 
 
 I am very happy, however, when I have time, to pay 
 my visits on paper, as I now do, because I am sure of a 
 greater pleasure in its being returned, not that I mean 
 to stand on ceremonies with you more than Wyllie, for 
 as we do not regularly balance visit against visit, so if it 
 comes into my head to send you two letters for one, I 
 shall not stick at it, and if you do the same, I shall not 
 feel offended by such a breach of punctilio. 
 
 I have had no letter from Messieux, and feel obliged 
 to you for your offer to him that you would forward any 
 letter to me. I shall write to Iiim ere long, and, as I 
 know not where to find him, I shall perhaps give you the 
 trouble of directing it and forwarding it to him. I 
 learned from the newspaper thu dreadful accident to which
 
 DESIRE FOR TRAVEL. 128 
 
 you have carried my attention in your letter, and have 
 no doubt of its being an inexpressible shock to Mrs 
 Brown. If you recollect, there was a pistol witli which 
 Messieux and I used to amuse ourselves, and is, I dare- 
 say, the one which has proved fatal to poor Henry. 
 
 I am the more anxious to open or rather renew a 
 correspondence Avith M., because — and I am sorry to 
 say it — I see no prospect of seeing you or him next 
 summer, not that I could make any trip more agreeable, 
 but that I shall be able to make no trips at all. I find 
 that I shall have so much to do to establish myself in 
 business properly, and to attain to proficiency in an art 
 which has made so great a progress towards excellence, 
 that 1 shall have no time at my command, unless I should 
 be able to get a long plate, and do it down with you ; 
 and, indeed, if I were engravmg there you would have 
 so little of my company as to make it of little or no 
 consequence whether I were there or in London. I shall 
 therefore defer my visit till I can make a thorough holi- 
 day of it, and enjoy the company of my friends without 
 interruption. 
 
 I should like very much to make with you the tour 
 you propose to make next summer. I could there find 
 first-rate subjects for my pencil ; and I Avonder that so 
 many persons who can or will travel do not first visit 
 those places in their own country and neighbourhood 
 which could afford them so fine scenery and so great hos- 
 pitality as the Highlands of Scotland. These, and the 
 western lakes in Cumberland and Westmoreland, I would 
 rather visit, and next to these the romantic and wild 
 scenery of Switzerland.
 
 124 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 I liope that Sylvester's translation to Glasgow will be 
 a step towards advancement and happiness. You will, 
 no doubt, regret that he should have to go there while 
 you are stationary ; but I hope that, nevertheless, they 
 will not l)c prevented fi-om coming to you Avhere you 
 are, lest when I go to Dundee I should have to look in 
 vain for you, Avho are amongst my last fiiends there. 
 
 Grey called on me here some months ago. He came 
 only en jmssant, and was not long enough for me to learn 
 what brouglit him to London. I was not very desirous 
 of inviting him to an intimacy, for reasons you will readily 
 guess, and I have not seen him again. But with Wyllie 
 I am very thick, as you call it, and we have a duo at 
 flutes and a duel at chess with great pleasure. He told 
 you, no doubt, of his success at the latter, and 1 begin 
 to doubt if I shall ever regain those laurels I once wore. 
 But I am not cowed, and in a few days I hope to open 
 a fresh campaign with greater success. He drank tea 
 here together with Bailie Tlioms' son, who is also a 
 player at chess, but as yet untried by me. I would 
 not advise him to attack me now, for Wyllie has worked 
 me up so, that like an urchin that has been thumped, 
 I am ready to wreak m}^ revenge upon anyone I meet — 
 even though it should be yourself. 
 
 Since writing the preceding I have been waiting 
 for a call from WylHe to send it, but he has stayed 
 away longer than usual, and I have been unable to call 
 on him, as his business is on the other side of the city 
 to where my business lies. I have also had more
 
 BUSINESS INCREASING. 125 
 
 business on my hands these hist six weeks than I ever 
 had before ; for, besides the phite I mentioned, I have 
 three others all in hand at once, which I am obliged 
 to superintend. I have been successful in the plate 
 which has cost me so much anxiety ; and the result of 
 four years' learning and experience in the art will appear 
 in a work along with those of my former master, and 
 of others who have generally served apprenticeships of 
 seven years. I Avas but two years old in engraving 
 Avlien I set up for myself, and have been two more 
 on my own fingers ; and, as some of my friends seemed 
 doubtful as to the success of such an experiment, I am 
 very happy and somcAvhat proud of this result, in which 
 I have obtained one object of my ambition. 
 
 I shall send with this or hereafter an impression of 
 my plate for your acceptance, as a thing of no value, 
 but as a token of my regard and esteem. I find that 
 1 shall not be able to send my poems to you for 
 sometime, as they are in the hands of an intelligent 
 bookseller, a friend of mine, who wishes to look them 
 over. He says that they are worth publisliing, but I 
 doubt very much if he would give me any proof of his 
 opinion, or I should indulge in the hope of sending 
 them to you in a more durable shape. 
 
 Wyllie has called, but I have been so busy — some- 
 times till tAvo and three in the morning — that I could 
 not really finish this. Besides the four plates, I liave 
 had two others as soon as I could finish tAvo of the 
 first, so that I am just Avhere I Avas. 1 have not been
 
 126 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 able, therefore, to call on Wyllie till tlic date of this. I 
 send, however, the engraving, and something for Messienx, 
 which I will tronble yon and thank yon to forward at your 
 convenience. I do not know his address, but, if you 
 take charge of it, I have no doubt of its reaching him. 
 I hope to write more at leisure next time, and am, 
 dear George, yours truly, 
 
 Thos. Hood. 
 Feb. 20, 1821. 
 
 It will be observed that the contents of this letter 
 extend over fully a year. It was begun " sometime in 
 January 1820," and had been added to at intervals till 
 Hood concluded it in February 20, 1821. After the first 
 paragraph had been written, there appears to have been a 
 lapse, and he resumes the second one by bantering Rollo 
 upon " the mysterious disappearance of the Dundee 
 Guide" which he says he was able to replace from 
 memory. This the poet never did, although he makes 
 further reference to it in the next letter. The melancholy 
 accident to which he refers will be explained by the 
 following extract from the Dundee Advertiser of date 
 October 20, 1820, viz.: — "Henry Brown, a fine boy, eleven 
 years of age, the youngest son of our late townsman, 
 Mr Lawrence Brown, of St. Petersburg, lost his life at 
 St. Andrews last week by the accidental discharge of a 
 pistol, which his playmates, the children of Captain Mason, 
 had found in an unlocked drawer. The death of poor 
 Brown was instantaneous, the pistol bullet having passed
 
 HIS APPRENTICESHIP TO EXGRAVIXG. 127 
 
 through his heart. Two of Captain Mason's children had 
 their arms roinid his neck and waist when he fell, but 
 they both escaped unhurt. An attempt to rob the house, 
 it is said, had been made a few nights before, and tliis is 
 the reason why the captain so unfortunately, as it turned 
 out, kept his pistols loaded." Hood and Messieux were 
 wont to amuse themselves with a pistol, which the poet 
 thought was the same by which the young lad had been 
 killed. It may be inferred that Hood occasionally 
 visited his Swiss friend in the University city, as it 
 will be seen that the accident occurred there. 
 
 The most important point of the letter is that which 
 relates to the time he devoted to the acquirement of the 
 art of engraving — two years! As has already been shown, 
 the greater part, if not the Avhole, of these years, had 
 been served prior to his visit to Scotland. If he re- 
 turned to London in the autumn of 1816, or even early 
 in 1817, he might have been engaged by the Kleux 
 family for a short time, and then started on his own 
 account, but we have no evidence to that effect. The 
 utmost that these letters inform us is, that he commenced 
 business early in 1818. Whether two years of an ap- 
 prenticeship and two years on one's " own fingers " would 
 be sufficient time to master the intricacies of an art so 
 difficult and delicate in manipulation as that of engraving, 
 and qualify him to produce work to rank "along with 
 that of a former master and of others who have 
 generally served apprenticeships of seven years," is a 
 question for experts to decide. At all events, it is 
 shown that for at least three years ]3i"ior to entering upon 
 a literary profession Hood was fully engaged earning his
 
 128 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 livelihood as a practical engraver, and putting out work 
 which met with the acceptance of his employers. 
 
 A i\Ir Grey is mentioned in the foregoing letter. 
 He belonged to a firm of timber merchants in Dundee, 
 and was an acquaintance of Robert Miln and Andrew 
 Wyllie. 
 
 It may here be mentioned that Robert Miln became 
 one of the leaduig lawyers in Dundee, and, in conjunction 
 with another lawyer, Mr George ]\Iilne, projected the 
 Dundee Chronicle, a newspaper wliich was conducted with 
 marked ability for several years. As bas been stated in 
 a former page, Hood and Miln were fellow-lodgers with 
 Mrs Butterworth. The young men were drawn towards 
 each other by a similarity in tastes, and perhaps, too, by 
 the delicacy of their constitutions, a cause which pre- 
 vented them from entering into the more vigorous 
 pastimes of the Scottish youth. Miln was a studious 
 young man, and, like Hood, had a taste for Avriting verse. 
 In looking over the pages of the Chronicle it can be 
 observed that many of the pieces of poetry are imitations 
 of the Immoinst's most popular poems ; and, as they are 
 printed in large type, it may l)e correctly inferred that 
 they were from Miln's pen. To the end of his life, Mr 
 Miln took a strong and fiiendly interest in the increasing 
 fame and popularity of his friend of old, and was an 
 enthusiastic admirer of his wiitings.
 
 ANOTHER LETTER TO ROLLO. 129 
 
 IV. 
 
 Dear Georg-e, — You arc a pretty fellow to kcikI me 
 such a short letter, and, if it Avere not for fear of falling 
 short myself, 1 should scold you. But I heartily forgive 
 you for hastening it, even in its infant state, or half 
 grown, that I might sooner have the benefit of the en- 
 closures. 
 
 That must, indeed, be your excuse for me, for I would 
 have heard of no other. Your town, I know, is barren 
 of news, and ours is all sent you by the papers; but I 
 can feed upon very slight food, and the description of 
 even a fishing excursion or anything of that kind would 
 be very agreeable ; or, if you were to sketch me any 
 odd character who may fall in your way, or any odd 
 sayings or stories. I know that you once dealt in such 
 things, and I have not lost my relish for them. 
 
 As for me, I am just scribbling a Cockney's sentimental 
 journey from Ishngton to A\'aterloo Bridge — about three 
 miles — so what a letter you ought to be able to give me 
 by and by about your excursion to the Highlands, with 
 kilts and Ben-Somethings and Loch-Somethings, and I 
 know not Avhat ! 
 
 I wish I could go with you, and so do you, and so 
 does R. Miln — but I have told the latter whv I caimot. 
 I have a literary engagement Avhich will occupy my leisure 
 time (that is to say, Avhat I have heretofore devoted to 
 scribbling), so that 1 shall not only Avrite now for Pleasure 
 but for Profit; and I begin to have hopes that what I 
 17
 
 130 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 have scnbbled in verse will make its appearance in a 
 little volume, and, should that bo decided on, I shall 
 necessarily have a great addition to my occupation in 
 arranging, correctmg, &c. &c., but I expect that they will, 
 in that case, be out by Christmas. 
 
 I do not think my health will suffer, for I shall be 
 obliged to go out rather more than I perhaps should do 
 vohmtai-ily, and you may mention this to R. M. for his 
 comfort. He says he supposes I am making my fortune, 
 but he is out there, and, consequently, as I could not 
 leave him anything if I were to die to-morrow, he may 
 wish for my long life most sincerely. 
 
 I have Avritten to him that I Avould rather the Dundee 
 Guide should remain unknown, for I think 1 can do better 
 things ; aiid as for the other things (this " Bandit," 1 believe), 
 it is yours if you like it. 
 
 I see our friend Wyllie as often as possible. We 
 went together to an exhibition of paintings, some time 
 since, and last Thm-sday he went with me to our 
 Society, where I gave an essay on Poetry to close the 
 session. But chess I must resign, my head is now so 
 much occupied. ]\Iethinks I hear \o\\ say, what an 
 altered being I must be to give up chess, and that, 
 too, when I have been beaten ! But, from the cause 
 just mentioned, I have ceased to iiiid any amusement 
 in it, and therefore there is no hope of retiieving my 
 laurels. Even my flute I must use l»ut sparingly, al- 
 though it delights me witli my own music when I can 
 get no better. But Health I health I — (show this to 
 R. Mihi) — I sacrifice them both to health! And as for 
 mv paper concerns, I can take them into a garden (and
 
 SICK \YRITIXG ABOUT HIMSFJ.F. 131 
 
 luckily we have one), so that I sliall not want for 
 fl'esh air. 
 
 I received very great joy from M. Messieux's letter, 
 being only the second since our separation, and have 
 answered it, as you will perceive. I do not know 
 whether I may not be giving you great trouble to for- 
 ward them to him ; but, if not, I shall feel obliged by 
 your becomuig the medium of communication. There 
 is never anything in my letters that will cool by Avaiting, 
 so that you can take any opportunity of himself or 
 his friend being in Dandee to fcjrward them; but pray 
 let me know how the matter stands. 
 
 I know not how it is that I find more time to write, 
 now that I have more to do ; but it may be that I am 
 more settled, and have got into more of a routine ; and, 
 perhaps, above all, I am oftener in the mood for writing. 
 At any rate, I am happy, on looking back, to find that I 
 can keep it up so well, all things considered. 
 
 I confess that I want sul)ject more than inclination 
 generally, for I am sick, and you will be too, of eternally 
 writing about Self. But we may sometime start some 
 interesting subject of controversy and inquiry, and then we 
 shall go on better. And as those who challenge give the 
 choice of weapons, so I, who propose, give you the choice 
 of subjects ; and I hope in your next you will give me 
 some such things as I have mentioned in the beginning 
 to comment upon. What think you of a discussion 
 of Angling, which I know you are fond of? Pray 
 give me some description of its pleasures, &c. &c. &c., 
 and I will reply all that I can, pro and con. 
 
 Ha\dng paved the way, as I imagine, for long letters, I
 
 132 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 shall end this; and, though I have only occupied a page 
 more than yours, yet, taking my dwarf hand into account, 
 I think that I have really given you " two for one.'' — 1 am, 
 dear George, yoiu's very truly, 
 
 Thos. Hood. 
 
 June 17, 1821. 
 
 P.S. — It has been said that an angling rod and line 
 hath a fool at one end and a worm at the other. I do 
 not believe this, and want your vindication. 
 
 The foregoing letter requires little comment. Hood is 
 about to merge from the drudgery of the engraver's desk 
 into that peculiar field of literature which, ere long, he made 
 his own. He had been appointed sub-editor of the London 
 Magazine, in the pages of which several of his earliest 
 compositions were published, and was introduced to a 
 number of its most able contributors. There is one note- 
 worthy sentence in the letter — "Health! health!" he 
 exclaims, " I sacrifice everything to health ! " This is a 
 passionate exclamation of a young man full of hope, full 
 of bright anticipations, longing after one of the greatest 
 Ijlessings of earth, the pleasures of which he was never 
 to realize in full fruition.
 
 ORDERS A HIGHLAND PLAID. 133 
 
 V. 
 
 Lower Street, Islington, October 11, 1821. 
 
 Dear George, — I write to you for several reasons, viz. : — 
 First, because my sister is going to Dundee ; second, because 
 I have not heard of you for a long time ; and third, to give 
 you a troublesome commission. ]\Iy youngest sister is going 
 on a visit to her aunt, Mrs Kea}'', and ^vill forward this to 
 you, in order that you may provide me with a plaid against 
 my winter campaign. There are such things to be got here, 
 but I apprehend not so good ; and I shall be sure to fancy 
 it more for coming bona fide from Scotland, as it is such a 
 national article. And, moreover, when I shall be happed 
 in it, I may fancy that I am in Dundee. Therefore, you will 
 oblige me by choosing me one, and ordering it to be made as 
 folloAvs. To tell you the truth, I have fallen in love with our 
 friend Wyllie's, and should like one of the same family — a 
 twin — that is to say, a Stuart; and if that should be 
 
 troublesome to get, I will put up with a Kyd, or a (I 
 
 have forgot this name ; but I will ask ^^^yllie, and write it 
 outside). But I should prefer the Royal Stuart, on account 
 of the romantic and practical associations connected with 
 it. The collar, red shag (or green, if there be green; if 
 not, red) ; the body without sleeves, like Andi-ew's, but not 
 
 lined; and a large loose cape lined with green (I must 
 
 write this outside too) ; and — and — and — that is all, except 
 have the goodness to pay for it, for which purpose I 
 enclose £2, which Andrew tells me was about the price 
 of his ; but, at all events, we shall settle that. And now
 
 134 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 about the size. I am about five feet nine inches high, 
 and as thick as a rushHght, and I hope that ^vill be measure 
 suflScient. I thuik Wylhe calls his a rachan, or some such 
 name, Avhieli I cannot pronounce upon paper ; but I hope 
 you will know what I want, and how large it ought 
 to be. I think, as I have described it, that it covers 
 a page of paper, so enough of it. I trust it will not 
 be a very troublesome commission, in which hope I send 
 it ; but, if it is at all likely to be so, I beg that you 
 will not take it upon you, and let me give up the idea 
 of Scottish fancies and associations. 
 
 Bless me, Geordie, what's come owre ye, man, that 
 ye canna w-AVTite. 1 hope you hand is not rheumatised ! 
 I do nothing but write, write, day and night ; but I 
 cannot resist a letter now and then, and, if my present 
 fit continues, this is likely to be a long letter. I was 
 told, or else I dreamt, that a large trout (as muckle as a 
 saumont !) had put both your A\Tists out, and that you 
 were past scribbling, and consequently could not write to 
 me a letter upon the Pleasures of Fishing, as I had 
 proposed yoii to do. If it be true, then write upon some 
 other subject, and you will forget your disaster. If you 
 cannot use your fingers, tak' your taes til't, and I shall 
 not mind the handAvriting. "Write, at all events, whether 
 you can or not. If you have nothing to say, say so. 
 Perhaps, if the truth must be told, you are waiting for 
 lilessieux ; but, if the horses were to wait for the coach 
 to move, the mail would stand still. I shall perchance 
 enclose a letter for that gentleman, to be forwarded at 
 your leisure. 
 
 Perhaps you will ask Avhat I am doing. Why, truly,
 
 • ANTICIPATED VISIT TO LOCHEE. 135 
 
 I am T. Hood, scripsit et sculpsit. I am engraving and 
 ■writing prose and poetry by tm-ns. I have some papers 
 coming fortli in next month's London Magazine, signed 
 incog., and in the meantime I am busy extending and 
 correcting my h)ng poem and other pieces — perhaps for 
 pnbhcation. I have a good deal to do now — more than 
 ever. I have got my affairs into more reguhirity, and 
 therefore go on more smoothly to what I did. But I 
 have sustained a very severe and irreparable loss in the 
 death of my dear mother, about three months since, by 
 which event a serious charge has devolved upon me ; 
 and I have all the concern of a household and a family 
 of four sisters — a charge which can never be a liglit one. 
 I have suffered an inexpressible anguish of mind in 
 parting with my only parent, and but for the consolations 
 which I have had I should have sunk under it. I have 
 now recovered a great degree of my cheerfuhiess ; and 
 though such an event will be a cloud upon all my 
 happiness, my other prospects are brightei*, and enable 
 me to look forward with a pleasure, which I cannot have, 
 however, without a sigh whilst I look behind. The 
 writing for the London is a very agreeable employment 
 for my mind, and prevents my thoughts from preying 
 upon me as they otherAvise would do. 
 
 There appears now a prospect of my seeing you, 
 as, should my sister stay through the winter I shall 
 most probably fetch her. In this 1 anticipate much 
 pleasure, as I shall be able to reach Locliee; yea, and 
 much further, and perhaps see more of Scotland. But 
 I must hush upon that subject, as it is too long for 
 any prudent man to look forward.
 
 136 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 After a long interval I have attacked our friend 
 again at chess, and Avith better success ; for our meetings 
 stand tlnis : — 
 
 Hood, WylHe, 
 
 1 — 
 
 2 — 
 1 drawn, 
 
 but I had a balance against me in our last campaign 
 of 40 or 30, which I do not expect to pay off. 
 
 Last Sunday, we (AndrcAV and I) went to a very 
 fine garden, &c., and, if you are at all a botanist, I 
 shall regret that you were not with us. There were 
 a greenhouse, 500 feet long, full of camelias, and a 
 hothouse 40 feet high, the Avliole warmed by steam 
 carried in two miles of pipe. The latter house was 
 a great wonder, being full of African and other plants 
 of the gigantic kind. Palm trees 30 feet high, ex- 
 tremely beautiful ; screw-palm, fan-palm ; bread-fruit ; 
 cinnamon; clove; all-spice; and specimens of very rare 
 and beautiful plants. There was also a contrivance by 
 which they were watered by an artificial rain, in small 
 drops, or rather a dew, by turning a few cocks. There 
 was a beautiful papiflora, and the Avonderful pitcher 
 plant, each leaf contahiing about a tablespoonful of clear 
 water — mimosa, and other cuiiosities. I just mention this 
 subject, because, if I recollect right, you are a gardener 
 or a botanist, neither of which am I. But, say you, 
 why go on Sunday ? Truly because we could not on 
 any other day. But W. and I went to chapel in the 
 evening, and heard a rather ridiculous sermon. W. has
 
 hood's sister visits SCOTLAND. 137 
 
 twice taken me to chapel when I otherwise would not 
 have gone, and this was the second. 
 
 And, now, the end of my paper gives me warning 
 to end. I am writing to you witli my head in my 
 nightcap, and my legs and lower half in bed. My 
 watch says half-past twelve, and I am very dozy, or I 
 Avould take a fresli sheet. I shall be Avritiiig another 
 against yours arrives, with a packet for Messieux. — I 
 am, dear George, yours very truly, 
 
 Thos. Hood. 
 
 In the first part of the letter Hood states that his 
 youngest sister, whose name was Elizabeth, was about 
 to pay a visit to his aunt in Dundee ; and, in a 
 paragraph further on, he says that, if she stayed through 
 the winter, he would come doAvn to Scotland and take 
 her back to London. He would thus, he thought, have 
 an opportunity of again seeing his familiar acquaintances 
 in the north, and perhaps extend his trip farther than 
 Dundee. Miss Hood went north, Imt she remained with 
 her aunt only a short time. The two women could not 
 pull well together, and Elizabeth no doubt deemed it 
 prudent to return to her own home much sooner than 
 was expected, — Hood thereby loosing the chance of again 
 placing his foot upon the soil of "stout and original 
 Scotland." Elizabeth and her sister revisited Dundee 
 several years after with better results. The curious 
 grain in the tempers of the aunt and niece was for 
 the time subdued, and the happiness of those concerned 
 consequently promoted. 
 18
 
 138 HOOD IN' SCOTLAND. 
 
 Whether Mr Rollo was able to comply with Hood's 
 order for a Scotch plaid — the Highland cloak of a later 
 day — we have no means of knowing; bnt there cannot 
 be any doubt that the article of apparel was duly for- 
 warded, as Rollo was not the man to disappoint a friend 
 upon a matter like that. Hood's description of himself 
 is characteristic — " five feet nine inches high, and as thick 
 as a rush-light ! " — and no doubt the cloak was a good fit. 
 
 The other parts of the letter do not call for particular 
 mention, except that portion, perhaps, wherein he speaks 
 in sorrow of the loss of his mother. This distressing 
 bereavement seems to have affected him very much. He 
 had a deep-seated, tender affection for his parent. The 
 death of the father, while the poet was quite a boy, had 
 strengthened the ties Avhich bound the mother to her 
 family, and her death came upon them as a great calamity. 
 There were few to guide, advise, or sympathize with 
 them in their distress ; and the responsibility of looking 
 after the welfare of the sisters was left to their only 
 brother. This was a heavy burden upon a young man 
 afflicted as he was ; but Avitli characteristic perseverance 
 and cheerfulness he set himself to the task, and 
 struggled manfully to maintain them by his labours as 
 an engi'aver. He speaks cheerfully of his success, and 
 refers pleasantly and hopefully to the papers he was 
 preparing for the London Magazine. 
 
 At this point we conclude our remarks upon his first 
 visit to Dundee. "We have exhausted all the sources 
 from which we have been able to obtain a supply of 
 information bearing upon his youthful connection with
 
 hood's return to ENGLAND. 139 
 
 Scotland. Ho came to it delicate, bowed down by 
 bodily infirmities, and he went from it renewed in health, 
 strength, and vigour : a rosy tint suffused his cheeks, 
 and elasticity was in his limbs. 
 
 It is not the object of this sketch to follow Hood 
 through his literary career. It would be presumption 
 to do so. His biography has been written by litterateurs 
 of gTeat ability, and Miss Frances Freeling Hood and 
 " Tom Junior " have given to the public those interesting 
 series of letters, entitled the " Memorials," which detail 
 his experiences abroad in full. Nor is it necessary to 
 enter into or refer to the reasons which led him to 
 relinquish the art of engra^^ng for the more congenial 
 profession of literature ; his marriage with ]\Iiss Reynolds, 
 or the financial difficulties which induced him to go 
 abroad ; his residence in Coblentz and Ostend ; and his 
 final return to England in 1840. These phases of his 
 life have been so well described by others that it would 
 be superfluous to enter into them here, — the object of the 
 writer being to confine his remarks solely to the poet's 
 visits to Scotland.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 LETTERS, 
 
 HOOD'S SECOND VISIT TO SCOTLAND. 
 
 Arrival in Dundee — Visits Tayport — Meeting with his Aunt — Letter to Mrs Hood 
 — " Tom Junior" and Scottish Fare--Hood"s Trips to Dundee — Meets several 
 of his old Companions — Death of Kobert Miln — Mr Shaw's Back Shop— Visits 
 Watt Institution Exhibition — Trip to Edinburgli — Entertained by Lord 
 Jeffrey and Dr Macbeth Moir — London Again — Pension — Letter from 
 Miss Hood— Death. 
 
 In the autumn of 1843, after a lapse of fully a 
 quarter of a century, Hood, accompanied by his son, 
 revisited " Bonnie Dundee." Again he was in search of 
 health. The prolonged struggle of hard work, almost 
 incessant illness, and a climate un suited to his con- 
 stitution, had done him irreparable harm ; and, casting 
 his eyes to the north, he longed once more to inhale 
 its invigorating air. On landing in Dundee, which he 
 did on the mornhig of Friday, 15th September, he felt 
 disappointed. It was not the place he had known of 
 yore. He expected to meet many old familiar faces, 
 and hold converse with some of those with whom he 
 had been upon terms of intimacy ; but most of the friends 
 of his early days were gone, and those who remained 
 scarcely recognized in the pale, cadaverous, consumptive-
 
 VISITS TAYPORT. 141 
 
 looking man, Avhosc hollow eyes shimmered through his 
 spectacles, the bright, cheery, laughter-loving friend of 
 theu' youth. He landed from one of the Dundee and 
 London Shipping Company's steamers, and took up his 
 quarters for the time being in ]\Ierchant's Hotel, Castle 
 Street (now British Hotel). After partaking of break- 
 fast, the father and son had a ramble together, the first 
 road they took being to the office of Mr Robert Miln. 
 Mr ]\Iiln was absent, and they turned up the Overgate, 
 and called upon the friend and companion of Hood's father, 
 Mr Patrick Gardiner, who had removed from his old 
 shop to a larger one in the same thoroughfare — the one 
 now occupied by a bar known as " The Pump." Mr 
 Gardiner, too, was from home. Hood and his son, 
 therefore, took train to Broughty Ferry, and sailed 
 across the Tay to South Ferry, now generally known 
 as Tayport — his intention being to visit j\Irs Keay, 
 his aunt, who had settled there. Not knowing what 
 might be the nature of his reception, and thinking, 
 no doubt, of their bickerings long ago, he proposed 
 to settle for the night at Scotscraig Hotel, and 
 hhed a bed in that establishment. He then called 
 upon his relation. The old lady — she deserved to 
 be styled that now — received him with open arms. 
 " Cankered," in her own way, she may at one time 
 have been Avith Hood ; but, like a true Scot, she 
 had always a warm heart for her "ain kith an' 
 kin." This genuine feeling of true heartedness, not- 
 withstanding, perhaps, a bit crook in the temper, had 
 been shown to Hood himself in his early days ; it was 
 manifested afterwards to his sisters ; it was now repeated
 
 142 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 to himself and extended to his son ; and after his death 
 his daughter partook of her kindness. Captain Keay, 
 who was a native of Tayport, had rethed from a 
 seafaring Hfe and selected an anchorage for the re- 
 mainder of his days with the eye of a sailor. Rose 
 Cottage, where he dwelt, is situated high and dry 
 on the braes of Scotscraig, and commands a magnificent 
 view of the whole estuary of the Tay and out towards 
 the German Ocean, the white column of the Bell Rock 
 Lighthouse shining conspicuously in the distance. It 
 has a fine southern exposure, and the garden Avas well 
 stocked with fruit trees and bushes. If health was to 
 be found anywhere, it was in this pretty place. According 
 to Hood himself, he was exceedingly happy, and " Tom 
 Junior" was dehghted. The following letter, wiitten by 
 the poet to his Avife, gives a description of his out- 
 goings and incomings at Tayport and Dundee. A portion 
 of it has already appeared in the " ]\Iemorials " ; but, 
 through the kindness of ^Ir A. C. Lamb, Dundee, who 
 is in possession of the oiiginal, we are enabled to give 
 it in extenso. 
 
 YI. 
 
 Wednesday, September 1843. 
 
 My own Dearest, — I received yours the day before 
 yesterday, having had to send for it to Dundee. On 
 Friday we came here to the Ferry, and I engaged a
 
 "TOM junior" and SCOTTISH FARE. 143 
 
 bed ; but my anut would not hear of it, and made me 
 come to her house at once, where I liave been ever 
 since. Very nice house and garden, and we are made 
 much of, and very comfortable. Tom is as happy as can 
 be, and they are much taken with him. By the by, 
 on Monday came a very strange and artful letter from 
 Betsey. Could she have heard of my being here? She 
 does not allude to it ; but take no notice of this till I 
 tell you more when we meet. My aunt says she wanted 
 her aye to be singing hymns, and brought some wafers 
 with texts on them. But that 's not religion, and, indeed, 
 both she and Mrs Holt seem to rely o'er much on their 
 own good works. She says there is a Mr Grey, a rich 
 man in Dundee, who says I am the first man of the 
 age, and begged when I came to let him know and he 
 would make a party to meet me. I do not know if 
 this will fall out. I have seen Mr Gardiner — his wife is 
 dead. I could not find R. Miln. I have made a sketch 
 for you that will give you an idea of the prospect from 
 here of the mouth of the Tay. It is a noble liver. We 
 are living on the fat of the land. Tom has milk 
 porridge, baps, cookies, jelly, &c., and I liave good 
 small ale and whisky — and both are much the better — 
 greatly so in looks. I shall go by a steam-boat from 
 here to Leith some day this week, so you must not 
 write again to Dundee, but to the P.O., Edinburgh. 
 You had better send the slippers, if not already sent, 
 post paid, to Mrs D. Keay, Rose Cottage, Ferry-Port-on- 
 Craig, by Cupar-Fife, N.B. 
 
 On Sunday I went to hear her minister — one of those 
 who have seceded. He preaches in the Schoolroom ;
 
 144 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 but at the same time through a wincloAv into a large 
 tent adjoining — a temporary accommodation whilst the 
 new c'lmrcli is bnilding, in opposition to the old one — 
 something in the spirit of the old Covenanters. The 
 minister and family take tea here at five, which will 
 shorten this. He and I get on very well. 
 
 I Avrite very hastily, expecting every minute to be 
 summoned to tea. I am looking at a hill, out of the 
 back Avindow, covered with sheaves, for it is the middle 
 of harvest. Tom is off, for the minister's two boys are 
 coming, and he has made a crony of one already. He 
 sends his love to you and Fanny and Mrs Dore, and 
 says you are to make yourselves comfortable about him, 
 for he is very happy, and, I can add, veiy good. I am 
 sorry to miss dear ]\Irs Dore, but I think I should have 
 been very ill if I had delayed. I eat and drink pretty 
 well, but sleep badly still. However, the time is short 
 as yet for much improvement. I found my uncle and 
 my aunt better than I expected, and the place really a 
 very nice and comfortable one. They had seen my 
 ]\Ianchester letter, and altogether I stand high as well 
 as " Tom Junior." Aunt has given him a silver pencilcase 
 of her brother Robert's, who was a scholar at College, 
 for she admires his reading and his spirit, though they 
 have, of course, some misunderstandings between English 
 and vScotch. I expect to be much delighted with Edin- 
 burgh, and shall most likely go from here on Fiiday or 
 Saturday ; but there will not be time for you to write 
 here again, so direct through if you wiite before Wed- 
 nesday, as probably I shall return by Satm-day week's 
 packet. And, now, God bless you, dearest. Kiss my
 
 HIS TRIPS TO DUNDEE. 145 
 
 dear Tibbie for me, and give my kind love to Mrs Dore, 
 Perhaps I shall see her on her return from Cheltenham. 
 AVe have beautiful weather, but east winds. Perhaps 
 you have Avritten. I shall send to Dundee to-morrow 
 to know ; but from this side boats are not frequent, 
 and the ferry opposite Dundee is three miles off — a long- 
 pull there and back. Take your port, and drink the 
 health of your affectionate, 
 
 Thos. Hood. 
 
 Hood was almost daily in Dundee, but made Tay- 
 
 port his head-quarters. "'Deed," as Mrs Keay remarked 
 
 to a friend, when speaking of the visit, "I saw feint a 
 
 muckle o' 'im. He was nearly aye awa' tae toon!" 
 
 He made the most of his time. On his second visit 
 
 to Mr Gardiner he found that gentleman busy behind 
 
 his counter. The meeting was very cordial. Mr Gardiner 
 
 took him to his old acquaintance, Mr Frederick Shaw, 
 
 who carried on a large bookselling and stationery business 
 
 in the shop at west side of Pillars, presently tenanted 
 
 by Mr Anderson. Here he met George Milne, Robert 
 
 Nicoll, merchant, and several Dundee worthies. But his 
 
 old and favourite friend, Robert Miln, he saw not. Mr 
 
 Miln was lying at the point of death, and expired while 
 10
 
 IIG HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 Hood was yet in tlie town ; that is to say, on 21st 
 September 1843, at tlio comparatively early age of 44 
 years. The poet Avas deeply affected by his friend's 
 death ; the more so, perhaps, that he knew his own 
 could not be far oft". On one of the days he visited 
 Mr Sliaw — for he made that gentleman's back parlour, 
 or back shop as it is called in Scotland, his halting 
 place — he Avas very tired and careworn. He looked 
 worse than usual. Mv Shaw sympathized with him ; but 
 Hood only shook his head, and, looking tenderly at his 
 son, who accompanied him, muttered despondingly, " Poor 
 boy ! poor boy ! " Mr Rollo, too, was from home, and 
 he did not have an opportunity of seeing him, as no 
 doubt he Avished. Hood visited every place of interest 
 in the town : and, as the Highland and Agricultural 
 Society's show had just been held, the inhabitants were 
 in a ferment of excitement. He was particularly pleased 
 with the Watt Institution Exhibition, then open, and on 
 his return to London forwarded to its Library a copy 
 of his " AVhimsicalities," Avith his autograph Avritten upon 
 the fly-leaf. He was generally accompanied by Mr 
 Gardiner, who shewed him great kindness, and the poet 
 was so gratified with his courtesy that he sent him a 
 special copy of the same work. On one of the fly- 
 leaves the poet wrote the following words : — " To I\Ir 
 P. Gardiner, with kind regards, from Thomas Hood." 
 These volumes are in possession of a relative of Mr 
 Gardiner, who resides in London. The "bracing breezes 
 of the north " had on this occasion comparatively little 
 effect upon the toil-woni, disease-atncken litterateur. A 
 gentlemen wh(^ was introduced to him at Tayport
 
 DEPARTURE FOR EDIXBURUH. 147 
 
 says, that, altboiigli he was little over forty years of 
 age, he looked twenty years older. He was pale, 
 weary looking, and seemed bent down, not with the 
 weight of years, but with a load of bodily suffering. 
 His manner of speech was quiet and subdued, and in 
 tone sounded " far awa'," indicating weakness of the 
 internal organs. He was dressed in black surtout and 
 low hat, and wore spectacles; and his clothes hiuig 
 loosely upon him. 
 
 The Mr Nicholson to whom he refers was a minister 
 of the Established Church in Tayport, who " came out " 
 and joined the Free Church in 1843. He became the first 
 Free Church mmister in Tayport. He afterwards accepted 
 a charge in London as pastor of the congregation wor- 
 shippmg at London Wall. Having made Hood's acquaint- 
 ance in Tayport, the minister visited the poet on his 
 death-bed, a kindness which was gi-eatly api^reciated. 
 Mr Nicholson subsequently left this country and settled 
 in Hobart Town, Ncav South Wales. 
 
 After spending a week, Hood prepared to return south. 
 He left Tayport on Friday morning for Dundee, where he 
 dined with Mr Gardmer. During the day he bade his 
 fiiends good-bye, and passed the night with the genial 
 merchant. On Saturday (the day his friend Robert Miln 
 died) he sailed for Leith. The subjoined letter, written 
 by the poet after his return to London, gives a descriji- 
 tion of his visit to Edinburgh. An epistle, Avritten to his 
 wife from Edinburgh, appears in the "Memorials." It con- 
 tains a similar narrative ; but as this letter is directed to 
 Mr and Mrs Keay, it tells more fully how he fared on 
 leaving Dundee,
 
 148 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 VII. 
 
 17 Elm Tree Road, St. John's Wood, 
 Thursday, 5th October 1843. 
 
 Dear Uncle and Aunt, — Here we are safe and sound 
 after a capital passage of forty-three hours from Leith ; 
 the weather so quiet, and the boat so easy ; we had no 
 squeamishness even, but were free to enjoy agreeable 
 and good fare. There were a little boy and girl on 
 board, who served as playfellows for Tom — besides the 
 stcAvardess's scissors, which enabled him to cut out steam- 
 ships, cats, dogs, and horses, instead of making a fort of 
 your pump or picking up pebbles. So we got on very 
 well. 
 
 On reaching Dundee I found a letter enclosing yoiu- 
 slippers, Avhich I forwarded to the Ferry, and hope you 
 like them. I called upon Mr Grey, but he was away from 
 home. You would see from a paragraph in Dundee Warder 
 that I visited the Watt Institution. 
 
 Unfortunately there was thick weather on the voyage 
 to Leith, 80 that I lost much of the scenery of the 
 Firth, as well as the first sight of Edinburgh, which, 
 as I could judge on my return, was very striking. I 
 was delighted with Auld Reekie and my reception there ; 
 but, unfortunately, it was vacation time, and Professors 
 Napier and Wilson were in the country. However, I 
 had an invitation from Lord Jeffrey, and dined with him 
 at his country seat, Craigcrook, about three miles frorn
 
 IN LONDON AGAIN. 149 
 
 the city. I also rode out with Tom to ]\Ius.sclbiirgh, 
 and made acquaintance with Mr D. !M. Moir, a surgeon 
 and well-known author. I was very much pleased with 
 liim and his family, and there were some fine boys, with 
 whom Tom was very soon quite at home. 1 have 
 corresponded with ]\Ir Moir for many years, but never 
 met him before. 
 
 In Edinbin-gh we saw Holyrood, the Castle, the 
 Anatomical Museum, the Advocates' Library, &c. &c. ; 
 and altogether my visit to Scotland has been very 
 gratifying to my feelings, as well as beneficial to my 
 health. Tom made several friends in Edinburgh, and 
 amongst the rest some ladies, who send him sliori 
 cake — which, of course, he wislied had been a long one — 
 of their own making. 
 
 I found my family quite well, and had the pleasure 
 of seeing our friend from Belgium, who had been de- 
 tained longer than she expected. My wife was delighted 
 with the improvement in our looks, and much amused 
 with Tom's account of his travels. His memorandum- 
 book, by the time we got home, was quite full. You 
 will be glad to hear that we brought home everything 
 witliout h)ss or damage, including the Venetian wine- 
 glass, in which I shall drink your liealth, I trust, very 
 often. 
 
 I have been very much tempted since my arrival to 
 start for Manchester, having had a very pressing invita- 
 tion from the Committee to be present at the grand 
 evening assembly at the Atheneemn, but found too much 
 to do at home. Otherwise, I should, no doubt, have 
 made some valuable acquaintance. Indeed, for the next
 
 150 nOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 six months I shall be extremely busy, as it is at the 
 briskest season of the year. 
 
 Betsey has been at our house during my absence. 
 She A\nll perhaps come on Saturday. 
 
 My v^-ife desires me to send her love, and thanks 
 you for your kindness to her boy, who, by his own 
 account, was very happy and comfortable, and is loud 
 in his praise of cookies, jelly, and porridge, not forget- 
 ting the beautiful milk and butter. Wo rather turn up 
 our noses at our breakfasts, for even the liaddies are 
 far better north. Fanny writes in love, and thanks for 
 your presents; and Jane (my wife) is much pleased 
 ■uath those pretty mats. The silver pencilcase she puts 
 away till Tom is older to take care of it. We all wish 
 there was a chance of seeing yon or my uncle in 
 London — travelling is now so very easy to M^hat it used 
 to be ; but there are none of us very young, and I 
 almost fear my journeyings are well at an end. I shall 
 sit still at home for the future, I suspect, like an old 
 yonng man. — I am, my dear Uncle and Aunt, your 
 aifectionate nephcAv, 
 
 Thos. Hood. 
 
 It is eNndent that the poet enjoyed his visit to Auld 
 Reekie. Several of her most brilliant sons held out the 
 right hand of fellowship, and entertained him with that 
 distinction to which, as a man of letters, he was justly
 
 EXTRACT FROM "NORTHERN WARDER." 151 
 
 entitled. The famous " Kit North " was from home, but 
 Lord Jeffrey and "Delta" received him with true Scot- 
 tish heartiness. The sights in the grand old city 
 interested him much ; and, on the whole, his second trip 
 to the north, if it did not infuse into him new life and 
 vigour, Avas full of pleasure. He took great delight in 
 the happiness which young Tom experienced, and the 
 kindness with which the lad was treated, wherever they 
 went. His love for his son appears to have been great, 
 and it was perhaps intensified by premonitions that he 
 would soon be separated from him. 
 
 As has been stated hi a former page, at the time 
 of Hood's visit to Dundee, the Watt Institution, with its 
 Museum and Library, was visited by all classes of the 
 town, and a number of distinguished persons went to 
 see it, as will be shown by the following paragraph 
 Avhich is quoted from the Northern Warder of September 
 2(3, 1843: — "Amongst many others, there were present at 
 the Watt Institution, during the week. The Right Hon. 
 Lord and Lady Kinnaird ; Viscount Aitencourt ; The 
 Right Hon. Arthur Kinnaird ; The Right Hon. The Earl 
 and Countess of CamperdoAvn ; Lord Stormont ; and 
 Thomas Hood, Esq., London." There are several per- 
 sons who remember this visit distinctly. Hood was then 
 perhaps the most famous man of his time, and he was 
 therefore the observed of all observers. The Warder 
 containing the announcement of his visit to the Insti- 
 tution was published on the Thursday after his departure 
 from the town, but the paper seems to have been 
 foi'warded to him by the Keays ; hence the reference 
 in the letter.
 
 lo2 HOOD IX SCOTLAXD. 
 
 Tlie next letter again tells a tale of ill health, and 
 of his heroic striig-gle against a disease Avhieh he kneAv 
 ere ktng would be the conqueror. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Devonshire Lodge, New Fiuchley Road, 
 St. John's Wood, 2d October [1844]. 
 
 Dear Uncle and Aunt, — I have delayed writing to 
 send the first volume of my Magazine, which you will 
 receive shortly after this. My own papers are marked 
 in the index. I only was able to resume the manage- 
 ment last month. The four numbers previous were 
 managed for me by a friend. You will see by the 
 opinions of the press, bound up with the volume, that I 
 have very good friends with all parties. 
 
 ]\Iy illness in the spring was very severe — spasms 
 and gasping for breath twelve hours at a time. I had 
 a very narrow escape, and am still very weak and 
 mucli shattered, as I must not live well for fear of 
 spitting blood and exciting the heart. I had three 
 physicians. Indeed, I am particularly fortunate in that 
 respect, as two of my best friends, Dr Elliot and his 
 brother, are both very skilful practitioners. But I shall be 
 obliged to remove from my present house — the clay soil 
 is not good for me. I must be upon gravel — high and 
 dry I I derived much Ijenefit from being at Blackheath
 
 "TOM junior" goes TO SCHOOL. 153 
 
 and Greenwich, and lately from a trip to Calais for the 
 sea air. I took Fanny with me — she is suflfering in a 
 milder degree from my complaint, marsh fever. Tom is 
 as usual. He goes to a day school, and gets on very 
 well; and he and his master are very fond of each other. 
 
 What a pity I Avas not Foreign Secretary instead of Lord 
 Aberdeen, and " Tom Junior " captain of the Royal Yacht, 
 as then we might have looked in at the Ferry on our 
 way to Dundee. As it is, there is as little chance of my 
 going to Scotland as of your coming to London. My 
 vehicle in the future is a hackney fly — or an arm chair. 
 By the by, I have been sitting lately for my bust, to 
 be done in marble for exhibition at the Royal Academy. 
 The likeness is said to be very good. If I could travel, 
 I would go to Manchester, having had a very handsome 
 invitation to a grand meeting of 3000 persons at the 
 Athena3um ; but the vibration of the railway for so long 
 a jomiiey would be too wearisome for my loose bones. 
 If balloons were manageable they would suit me best. 
 
 I have heard from Betsey ; she goes on in her usual 
 way, getting more odd in her ways as she grows older, 
 60 that she will be a curiosity at last. 
 
 Pray, give my kind remembrances to Mr and Mrs 
 Nicholson, and thank him for his kind letter, which I 
 ought to have acknowledged, but was too unwell at the 
 time, and have since been overwhelmed with aiTears of 
 business from my long illness. I was sorry I did not 
 meet them when they were in London ; but hope for 
 better fortune next time. Our weather is fine, and I 
 am pretty well, in spite of the Magazine, and having 
 to sit up all one night last week to complete my work. 
 20
 
 154 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 But it will be easier in future. I hope you are both 
 well, aud setting in comfortably for the winter with a 
 stock of mountain dew for the cold days and nights. 
 I am obliged to be content with good fires. 
 
 My wife, Fanny, and Tom, write with me in love 
 to you both. Please send me a Hne on receipt of the 
 parcel, as, if it does not reach you, I will inquire after 
 it. — I am, dear Uncle and Aunt, your affectionate 
 nephew, Thos. Hood. 
 
 A better idea of the poet's state of health at this 
 time may perhaps be obtained from the subjoined letter, 
 which is from the pen of his daughter, quite a girl. 
 
 Devonshire Lodge. 
 
 ]\Iy dear Uncle and Aunt, — I am glad to take the 
 opportunity of Mr and Mrs Nicholson's return to write 
 to you. Although I have not been happy enough to 
 have seen you, I am sure you will receive my letter 
 kindly. I hope, however, when papa goes to Scotland 
 agaiu, he will let me accompany him, and I know I 
 shall like it very much. I return you my sincere thanks 
 for the kind presents you sent me. I shall preserve 
 them with great care, and value them, knowing they 
 were my cousin Jessie's. 1 wish we lived nearer to 
 you, that I might be of use or comfort to you. You 
 will be sorry to hear that my dear papa has been most 
 dangerously ill, and is still in a very precarious state 
 of health. He has had three physicians constantly at-
 
 THE queen's visit TO DUNDEE. 155 
 
 tending liim, — two of them most intimate and kind 
 friends, who came ten miles every day while he was 
 in danger. He is noAV staying at the house of a friend, 
 a few miles from London ; but the weather is very un- 
 favourable to him. IMamma feels very anxious about him, 
 for the least change of weather affects him, and lie 
 suffers so from short breathing. Tom is quite well, and 
 goes to school, where ho has been working hard to 
 learn writing. He is always talking of you, and of 
 Scotland, and how much he would like to see you 
 again, — he came back so fat and well-looking and brown. 
 He often talks of the nice porridge he had for break- 
 fast, and the beautiful jelly, and nice short-cake. 
 
 Mamma writes with me in love to you both, and 
 believe me, my dear Aunt and Uncle, to remain your 
 truly affectionate niece, FRANCES F. HoOD. 
 
 The foregoing, like the other letters, was addressed to 
 the Keays at Tayport. Hood and his family took every 
 opportunity of expressing gratitude to their friends for the 
 kindness shown to him and his son during their recent 
 visit. 
 
 Hood, in wishing he had been Foreign Secretary, 
 and " Tom Junior " captain of the Royal Yacht, so that 
 he might have an opportunity of revisiting the Tay, is 
 writing in good-humoured banter of the Queen's visit 
 to Dundee, which took place on 11th September 1844, 
 an event which would be of peculiar interest to him. 
 The royal squadron, with Her Majesty on board, anchored
 
 15«) HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 almost opposite the village of Tavport, and Captain Keay 
 and his lady could easily watch the movements from the 
 -windows of their cottage. 
 
 Hood had a warm heart for ]\Ianchester, Avhere his 
 writings were exceedingly popular ; and he speaks with 
 feelings of pride on receiving a second invitation to be 
 present at the great assemblages at the Athenaeum. Alas ! 
 he was compelled to decline the invitation ; and in a 
 letter to the secretaries of the Institution, written the 
 day prior to the foregoing, he stated that " for him all 
 journeys, save one, were over." Lord Beaconsfield, then 
 Mr Disraeli, presided on the occasion ; and it may be 
 of interest to quote Hood's remarks upon that statesman 
 at the conclusion of the letter : — " You will have a chair- 
 man who, inspired by his father's spirit, will dis- 
 course so eloquently of the pursuits and amenities of 
 literature, and the advantages of the Athenaeum, that 
 every leg in the hall will become a member. In 
 brighter colours than mine he paints to the ' new 
 generation ' of your busy city the wholesome recreation 
 to be derived from Science and Art ; the instruction and 
 amusement to be gained from works of Philosophy and 
 Poetry, of History, Biography, and Travels ; and last, 
 not least, the infinite relief, amidst commercial occupations, 
 of alternative matters of Fiction and Fact-oxy.'^ 
 
 The following letter shows his gratitude to Sir 
 Robert Peel for conferring upon his wife, at his own 
 request, a pension of £100 a year — a piece of good news 
 of which he hastens to inform his relatives, whom he knew 
 would be as proud as himself of tlie distinction.
 
 PENSION CONFERRKD ON MRS HOOD. 157 
 
 IX. 
 
 Devonsliire Lodge, New Finchley Road, 
 St. John's Wood, 30th Nov. [1844]. 
 
 My dear Uncle and Annt, — -You will be glad to hear 
 Avliat follows, so I take the first opportunity of writing. 
 
 One or two pensions have lately fallen into the Crown 
 by the death of the parties. Out of these Sir Robert 
 Peel, with the Queen's approval, has settled on me a 
 pension of one hundred pounds a year for my literary 
 services, which, as I am not a political writer, is very 
 flattering. I said, settled on ine ; but I ought to have 
 said, my life being so precarious, it is considerately settled 
 on my -wife's life instead, at my request. 
 
 In communicating this to me. Sir Robert Peel wrote 
 a most handsome letter, with high praise of my works, 
 of which he is a reader, and expressing a wish for my 
 personal acquaintance. 
 
 I have just had a serious attack of illness, but am 
 better. I hope you and my uncle will get comfortably 
 through the winter. Some of the weather-wise say we 
 are to have a severe one. We have not seen or heard 
 anything of Mr Nicholson. I suppose he has not come 
 up yet — or has he built himself into London Wall in mis- 
 take for a stone thereof? 
 
 There is no ncAvs, or, if there is, I must have heard of 
 it. I have just written a song, which, like the " Song 
 of the Shirt," has been in almost all the papers, called 
 " The Lay of the Labourer." It will comfort me before 
 I die to have done some service to my poor countr}auen 
 and countrywomen.
 
 158 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 My wife, Faimy, and Tom, send their love to you both. 
 Tom's Httle marmoset, betAveen a monkey and a squu-rel, 
 survived the jooor fellow who brought it for him from the 
 Brazils — a young surgeon, by name Robert Douglas, of 
 Glasgow. 
 
 I have not seen Betsey lately. God bless you both. — I 
 am, dear Uncle and Aunt, your affectionate nephew, 
 
 Thos. Hood. 
 
 Pray, keep the " Song of the Shirt." I shall be able in 
 the beginning of the year to send you a portrait that is 
 being engi'aved from my bust, and which is said to be a 
 strong likeness. 
 
 He speaks in calm contemplation of his approaching 
 end; but is comforted with the knowledge that "before 
 he dies he will have done some service to his poor 
 countrymen and countrywomen," refening of course to 
 the influence of the " Song of the Shirt," the " Lay of the 
 Labourer," and other gi*eat poems, in clearing away 
 abuses wdiich seriously affected the industrial population. 
 On the 23d of the same month he got a short respite 
 from the ever-recurring attacks of illness, and his gaiety 
 arose. " The fever heat is gone," he says, in a letter of 
 that date, "so are the musicals — the whistlings and 
 wheezings " ; and he has a good-humoured jibe at 
 Mr Nicholson's expense, wondering if he had built him- 
 self into London Wall. But this blink of sunshine was 
 transient, and he soon relapsed into his former state. 
 His aunt having neglected to answer his letter, the
 
 HIS GRATITUDE TO SIR ROBERT PEEL. 159 
 
 following shows his auxiety that they should know of 
 Sir Robert Peel's kindness. 
 
 X. 
 
 Devonshire Lodge, New Finehley Road, 
 St. John's Wood, January 4 [1845]. 
 
 j\Iy dear Uncle and Aunt, — Some time back I Avrote 
 to inform you of a piece of news that I thought would 
 please you — that Sir Robert Peel would give me a pension 
 of £100 a year, which, at my request, was settled upon my 
 wife, as likely to survive me ; so that, whatever may 
 happen to me, there is some provision so far for my family. 
 As these pensions are bestowed on men or women 
 who have distinguished themselves in science or litera- 
 ture, it is honourable to me ; and w^as rendered still 
 more gratifying by a very handsome letter from Sir Robert 
 that he was a reader of my works, of which he spoke in 
 high terms, concluding with a wish for my personal 
 acquaintance. 
 
 I have repeated this, fearing that my former letter 
 may have been miscarried. I hope you have not been 
 ill. I am sorry to say that I have. It is now six Aveeks 
 that I have been in my bed, but I hope to be up in 
 a day or two. 
 
 I have no other news. We have not yet seen any- 
 thing of the Nicholsons. 
 
 I shall be able to send you next month a portrait 
 of me that is being engraved from the bust. They 
 say it is a very good likeness.
 
 I«i0 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 Please to send me a line to say whether yuu have 
 got my former letter, and that you have not been ill. 
 
 We all unite in love to you and uncle. Fanny and 
 Tom -will write one of these days. — I am. dear Uncle and 
 Aunt, your affectionate nephew, Thos. Hood. 
 
 Betsey has been here yesterday. 
 
 Notwithstanding his illness, he did not forget to for- 
 ward a copy of his Magazine, with a beautifully 
 executed portrait enclosed. The Magazine and portrait 
 have been preserved, and are in possession of Miss 
 Isabella Hood. The light of life is now burning low 
 in the socket, and although the flames flicker a little, 
 their gleams are transient and feeble. 
 
 " Slowly, slowly up the wall 
 
 Steals the sunshine, steals the shade; 
 Evening damps begin to fall — 
 Evening shadows are displayed ! " 
 
 The end draws nigh. The first part of the following 
 letter shows that, although his day was far spent, and the 
 long, dark, unfathomable evening, from whose folds we 
 all instinctively shrink, near at hand, he still retained 
 a moiety of his fomier joyousness. The second part, 
 or addendum, which consists of about a dozen words, 
 is dated twelve days after. It shows that the shadows 
 are closing around, and that the hand which once wrote 
 so neat and plain was beginning to lose its cunning.
 
 HIS LAST LETTER. ^QJ 
 
 
 J 
 
 21
 
 
 162 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 y^ J ><U^^ /^^^ ^ ^/.^r^^^ ^=€^ ..^^ ^^ 
 
 ^ /^ ;^^_ /^^ _ x^^^_^ 
 
 ^ ^...,1^ ^^K^-/ .^^^^e <Ay>^^ /.^ t^i^ 
 
 ^>A. 
 
 .^>^a:w^-''i-j^ ^' ?K---^- 

 
 HIS LAST LETTEB. 163 
 
 Z^ JJO// .1.^1X0 _ /e<.x< 
 
 
 The foregoing, so far as kiiowu, is the hist letter 
 written by Hood. It is a pathetic picture, and evidences 
 the domination of a strong mind over bodily suffering. 
 There the great poet lay on his death-bed, his body 
 " dreadftilly swollen by dropsy," prostrated by fell disease, 
 " smelling the mould above the rose," but his mental 
 faculties are undimmed. 
 
 If any one entertained doubts of his religious 
 sinceiity, a perusal of this letter will dispel them. A 
 supreme hater of bigotry, he felt persecuted by the 
 well-meant attentions of his sister Betsey, who had 
 "some peculiar religious notions of her own." He was 
 not a churchman, perhaps ; but, nevertheless, in his 
 own heart he was a true and sincere worshipper of the 
 Divine Being, and he listened with the attentive ear of a 
 man rapidly nearing the grave to the words of consolation 
 and hope told him by a devout Christian whom he had 
 heard preach in a tent in Tayport. He lay "calm and 
 resigned." undergoing much bodily suflfenng. His mind
 
 164 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 was iinobscured, {iiid lie patiently and meekly awaited the 
 final call. 
 
 "Colder, colder, colder still, 
 Upward steals a vapour chill." 
 
 And at last, that great, loving spirit, which had sustained 
 him through many weary vicissitudes, quitted its frail, 
 worn-out tenement, and returned to the Giver of Life. 
 He, " of gentle heart and open hand ! foe to none but 
 the bigot, the pedant, and the quack ; fi-iend to the 
 suffering, to the careworn, and the needy — Hood, the 
 generous, kind, and true," departed on od May 1845. 
 
 LETTER FROM HOOD'S SISTER ANNOUNCING HIS DEATH. 
 
 The announcement of the death of the poet was re- 
 ceived by his relatives and friends in Scotland, not 
 with sm-piise, but with a feeling of deep sorrow. The 
 annexed letter, wliich seems to have been hastily wiitten, 
 intimated the sad event to the Keays in Tayport. 
 
 XH. 
 
 My dear Aunt, — My poor l)rother is at last released 
 from his suffenngs. He departed this life about half- 
 past five o'clock on Saturday night. For the last three 
 days he had been insensible. It was only by his
 
 THE poet's last WORDS. Ifio 
 
 groauiug occaBionally and heavy brcatbing tliat we 
 could perceive Kfe in him. I did not expect that he 
 would have lived throngh ThnrRday night. When I 
 saw him then he was iinconscions, and had not spoken 
 since Wednesday noon, except the words, " Die, die ! " 
 Indeed, I may say, he has been for some time desiring 
 his departure. It has been a lingering death, and his 
 sufferings have been very great; but everything that 
 could be suggested was done to endeavour to alleviate 
 them. Poor ]\Irs Hood, I am afraid, will feel very much 
 when all the excitement of the funeral is over, for she 
 has been a devoted and attentive wife to him day and 
 night, and had very little rest for some months past ; 
 and as she said she had no time to write to me, I 
 have been obliged to ride up every week to St. John's 
 AVood, sometimes twice or three times, if I wished to 
 know how he was, when he was in danger. He ex- 
 pressed himself as composed in mind, and prepared for 
 death. ]\Irs Holt has just been to see my sister. She 
 was not so well as when I saw her last month, and 
 was not so much affected by her brother's death as I 
 dreaded she would be, but was anxious to be allowed 
 to see her brother, which will not be permitted. With 
 love to you and uncle, I am your affectionate niece, 
 
 Eth. Hood. 
 
 This letter bears no date, but, judging from its closing 
 sentence, it appears to have been despatched immediately 
 after the demise of the poet.
 
 1G6 
 
 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 It is needless to write further of this gifted laaii, or 
 tell how he was mourned wherever the English language 
 is spoken; or speak of the pilgrimages that are made to 
 do homage at his resting-plaee in Kensal Green Cemetery, 
 or repeat the deep sigh and the words of honoin- and 
 praise and blessing that are heaped upon the memory of 
 him whose mortal remains mingle with the dust at their 
 feet. 
 
 Let the curtain drop !
 
 CHAP T E K I X. 
 
 THE POET'S FAMILY. 
 
 Hood's love for his Wife and Family— Death of Mrs Hood — Hei- Character as a 
 Helpmate — A Scattered Family — Miss Hood — Sketch of Tom Hood, editor 
 of ' ' Fun " — His first Letter — Characteristic Fac-simile Letter to his Friends 
 in Tayport — Miss Hood's gratitude to the Queen — Poem by the Poet's 
 Daughter — Finis. 
 
 The love of the poet for his family was a beautiful and 
 elevating trait in his character, and his affection seemed 
 to grow in intensity as the years stole on and his 
 infirmities increased. He never wearied in their society, 
 and never seemed to enjoy himself out of it. When 
 ft'om home his letters teem with tender endearments for 
 his wife, loving remembrances to " Tom Jmiior," and 
 later on an enclosed kiss or kind Avord for his daughter. 
 Wherever he went he carried the thought of liome 
 and his dear ones along with him. Of Tom he Avas 
 especially fond. He made him his companion, and treated 
 him with the partiality of an indulgent parent. While 
 Tom was quite a child, Hood wrote a "Parental Ode
 
 168 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 to my Son, aged Three Years and Five Months," of 
 which the following is the opening verse : — 
 
 " Thou happy, happy elf ! 
 (But stop — first let me kiss away that tear). 
 
 Thou tmy image of myself! 
 (My love, he's poking peas into his ear) 
 
 Thou merry, laughing sprite, 
 
 "With spirits feather light, 
 Untouched by sorrow, unsoiled by sin 
 (Good heavens ! the cliild is swallowing a pin)." 
 
 The poet speaks less about his daughter, Frances Freehng 
 Hood. She partook more of her mother's disjoosition, and 
 clung rather to her than to her father. The family was 
 an exceedingly happy one, and when some of their birth- 
 days came round, and an entertainment was given in 
 honour of the event, the humorist was seen in his gayest 
 mood — the soul of Avit and fun — bright, sparkling, 
 effervescent. A gentleman, Avhose family were guests at 
 one of these children's parties when Hood was ill, speaks 
 of the exuberance of his spiiits, and the delight he took 
 in seeing the young people enjoy themselves — Mrs Hood, 
 Miss Hood, and Master Hood doing the honours of the 
 evening with much heartiness. 
 
 With the death of the poet a blight fell upon this 
 happy circle. Mrs Hood did not long sm-vive her hus- 
 band. She had been a faithful helpmeet to him, sustahi- 
 ing and sympatln'zhig with him in all his trials and 
 troubles, and solacing and tending him as a mother her 
 child in his illness. And now, Avlien he had passed from
 
 A SCATTERED FAJIILY. 169 
 
 her tender care, it seemed that the strength which buoyed 
 her np so long had forsaken her, and, eighteen months 
 after the earth had closed over the remains of her 
 husband, she, too, was called away, and two children — 
 for they were little else — only remained of that once 
 gladsome fireside. 
 
 It is stated in the " Memorials " that Mrs Hood '•' was 
 a woman of cultivated mind and literary tastes, and well 
 suited to the poet as a companion. He had such confi- 
 dence in her judgment that he read, and re-read, and 
 corrected with her all he wrote. Many of his articles 
 were first dedicated to her, and her ready memory 
 supplied him with his references and quotations. . . . 
 She was a most amiable w^oman, of excellent manners, 
 and full of sincerity and goodness. She perfectly adored 
 her husband, tending him like a child ; wdiilst he with 
 luibounded affection seemed to delight to yield himself 
 
 to her guidance In spite of all the sickness 
 
 and sorrow that formed the greater portion of their 
 married life, the union was a happy one." 
 
 After the death of their parents the children were 
 taken care of by their relatives. The pension which 
 was confeiTcd on the mother was extended to them. 
 They received an excellent education, and both early 
 developed literary tastes. The daughter, who Avas an 
 accomplished young woman, became the Avife of the 
 Rev. J. Somerville Brodeiip, for some time rector of 
 Cossington, Somersetshire. She did not enjoy her mariied 
 life for any length of time, and died at a comparatively 
 
 early age. 
 22
 
 170 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 The son iiihented much of the brilliant talent of 
 his father. lie attained considerable distinction amongst 
 the literati in London, and was mnch esteemed amongst 
 them. The Encijclopivdia Britannica says of him : " After 
 attending University College School and Louth Grammar 
 School, he entered Pembroke College, Oxford, where 
 he passed all the examinations for the degi'ee of 
 B.U., but did not graduate. At Oxford he wrote 
 his first work, Pen and Pencil Pictures, which appeared 
 in 1854-55. This was followed in 1861 Ijy The 
 Daughters of King Daker, and other Poems, after which he 
 published a number of amusing books for children. His 
 serious novels were not so successful, and are now almost 
 wholly forgotten. He also Avielded the pencil with con- 
 siderable facility, among his illustrations being those of 
 several of his father's comic verses. Having become editor 
 of the comic paper Fun in 1865, he succeeded in acquiring 
 for it a wide popularity, principally as a depictor of 
 the humours and eccentricities of middle-class life." 
 Thomas Hood, junior, was born at Lake House, Wanstead, 
 January 19, 1835, and died in London on 20th November 
 1874. 
 
 Througli the kindness of ^liss Elizabeth Hood Ave 
 are enabled to publish, for the first time, the subjoined 
 characteristic letters from the pen of " Tom Junior." 
 l^oth letters were directed to the Keays in Tayport, after 
 the poet's second visit to Scotland. The following is 
 undoubtedly the first letter he had ever penned, as the
 
 li 
 
 TOM junior's" first LETTER. 171 
 
 caligrapliy is that of the junior schoolboy order, the most 
 of the characters being written in the style known as 
 "half-text":— 
 
 " My dear Aunt and Uncle, — I am not able to write 
 ■well, but I will try my best. I enjoyed myself m 
 Scotland. I hope you are both well, and that I may 
 some day see you again. I am at school now, and like 
 it very much. I am proud to say that I have not been 
 punished since I have been there, and I hope next holi- 
 days to get a prize. I hope the garden looks nice. I 
 am saving some floAver seed to you out of our garden. 
 Please to give my love to all friends, and believe me, 
 with the same to you both, I remain, dear Amit and 
 
 Uncle, youi's truly, 
 
 Tom Hood." 
 
 " P.S. — I have had a monkey given me. Such a 
 beauty ! It is the kind called ]\Iarmoset. I will draw 
 you his picture and send it you next time." 
 
 The next letter, written by the same hand, was 
 forwarded to the Keays after ]\Iiss Hood's marriage with 
 Mr Brodei-ip. The sketches are scenes in the vicinity of 
 Cossington Rectory.
 
 272 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 
 '.a.^/^ 

 
 TOM VISITS MRS BRODERIP. \To 
 
 o^ ^ c^ C£AS\.c^^^S^\ 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 'n 
 
 t^T^^Vx^ C.:^^.^^^ '-^^% " 
 
 ^ ,3«^ ...^^ a^^d^^-^^^^ /L^A^^'-n/
 
 ,^i^^^<^ ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 1-j^ HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 

 
 LETTER BY MISS HOOD. 175 
 
 The annexed letter was Avritten by Miss Hood to Mr 
 and Mrs Keay some time after Mrs Hood's death. Tlie 
 original is in possession of Mr C. C. Maxwell, who kindly 
 placed it at our disposal for publication. 
 
 Monday, July 5 [1847]. 
 
 My dear Annt, — 1 have jiist got your kind letter. I 
 had already commenced wiiting to you to tell you a 
 piece of news that will please you, I am sure. Her Majesty 
 has been graciously pleased to grant us the pension. 
 Thank God for it. It is indeed a great and unspeakable 
 blessing, and I recognize His hand in it; for without His 
 assistance we are nothing. But He is truly the "Father 
 of the fatherless," and hears those who have need of His 
 comfort. May He also bless and spare the Queen for her 
 goodness to us. We have written a letter of thanks to 
 Lord .John Russell for his kindness in our behalf, and I 
 hear it is to be seen by Her Majesty. I am sure you will 
 rejoice with us in this unhoped-for mercy. I am sorry 
 to hear, my dear Aunt, you still feel the remains of your 
 former illness. I firmly hope it may please "Him who 
 is the fiiend of the widow and orphan " to spare you in 
 health and peace "which passeth all understanding" for 
 many years to come. 
 
 My Aunt Betsey called upon me a day or two ago to 
 ask me to go with her to see Mrs Nicholson, and I very 
 much regretted I could not accompany her; but I am 
 now staying with a very favouiite cousin of mine, and 
 she has had the small-pox, and is not yet recovered fi"om
 
 176 HOOD IX SCOTLAND. 
 
 it, and I have been iiiirsiiig her, so that I was unable to 
 leave her that evening, besides being afi-aid I might 
 carry the infection with me, although, through God's 
 mercy. I have not taken it myself. ]\Iy cousin is now 
 nuich l)etter, and all our fears are over, and she is going 
 on favoural)ly, l)ut I shall most probably stay with her a 
 little while yet. I have not given you the address, 
 liecause all letters are sent to me from home every day. 
 
 I have not seen dear Tom for three weeks, for I Avas 
 afraid to meet him on account of the infection. He is 
 very well and very good. I often see him on his Satur- 
 day half-holidays. He is as good a brother to me as I 
 could wish, and I am sure would do anything in his 
 power to make me happy. Tom has begun a letter to 
 you, and will finish it as he can find time. He is verv 
 well, and happy at school, he says. 
 
 I am very busy, and can hardly find time to wiite so 
 long a letter as I would wish; but it shall be better next 
 time. I often ^nsh I had wings to fly over the sea and 
 pay Scotland a visit, even for a few hours. I should so 
 like to see you, jjut it is such a gi'eat way off that I must 
 l»e contented with wiiting. 
 
 "When Mrs Nicholson comes back I intend to go and 
 866 her, and then I shall hear all about you and how you 
 are. I much like Mrs Nicholson; indeed, I took quite 
 a fancy to her; slie seems so very kind and warm-hearted. 
 It is so long since she saw me, or else she could describe 
 me to you at least. Mamma and papa used to tell me 
 I was quite a Scotch lassie, with the colour of my hair 
 and eyes. I am sure I love Scotland dearly enough 
 from the descriptions I have heard of it, and because my
 
 POEM BY THE POET'S DAUGHTER. 177 
 
 dear papa loved it. Now, God bless and keep you, my 
 dear Aunt Keay, is the fervent prayer of your affectionate 
 orphan niece, Fanny F. Hood. 
 
 The following poem is from the pen of Miss Hood. 
 We are not aware that it has been published before. 
 Apart from its fine sentiment, it shows that the poet's 
 daughter must have had a good knowledge of the 
 Scottish dialect. 
 
 Lilt awa', dear laverock, 
 
 Ower the bonnie lea ; 
 Rising frae the gowans, 
 
 Lilt a sang to me : 
 Tell me o' thy birdies 
 
 In then- nestie a', 
 0' the heather blossoms, 
 
 In the gi-eeuAvood shaw. 
 
 Look nae up sae timid 
 
 Wi' thy large dark e'e ; 
 Bonnie, gentie lav'rock, 
 
 I'll but peep at thee ! 
 I'll nae harm thy wee anes, 
 
 I'll but peep an' gae 
 To the pink-e'ed gowans 
 
 On th' sunward brae. 
 
 23
 
 178 HOOD IN SCOTLAND. 
 
 Fare-ye-weel, dear lav'rock, 
 
 Ye need fear nae mail- ; 
 Flee, flee up to heaven, 
 
 Lilt your sweet sang there. 
 I sail hear ye liltin' 
 
 Ower the dewy lea ; 
 When ye 're up near heaven 
 
 Tak' ae prayer frae me. 
 
 As I didna fricht ye, 
 
 Bh'die, flee on hie, 
 To the door o' heaven, 
 
 There lilt merrilie. 
 May nae harm come near ye, 
 
 Or your nestie sma'. 
 Gin ye do my biddin', 
 
 Cannily and a'. 
 
 That, like thee, to heaven 
 
 ]\Iy first thoughts may flee- 
 Liltin', bonnie lav'rock, 
 
 Thankfully like thee — 
 Wi' the morn's first peepin', 
 
 To the braid blue skies ; 
 Wi' the evenin' gloamin' 
 
 My tlianksgivings lise. 
 
 Frances Freelinq Hood. 
 
 FRIXTKD BY JAMEH P. MATllEW ASD CO., DUNDEK.
 
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