His head was unusually large, particularly behind the ears. He had a long nose, a wide, ugly mouth, and a protruding chin covered with a grisly black beard. He had eyes of piercing black which in moments of excitement gleamed with wild and awe-inspiring brightness. His voice was shrill, harsh, and discordant, more like that of a screech-owl than a human being, and his laugh was said to be horrible.
His mind corresponded in deformity with his body. He was eccentric, irritable, jealous, and strangely superstitious. He was sensitive beyond all reason and could not endure even the glance of his curious fellow men. He read insult and scorn in faces where neither was intended. He thoroughly despised all children and most strangers. His whole nature seemed to have been poisoned with bitterness of spirit because he was not like other men. Scott was introduced to this singular individual by Dr. Ferguson, who had taken a great interest in him. Nineteen years later, and five years after the death of David Ritchie, he made the recluse of Manor Valley known to the world as 'The Black Dwarf,' in the first of the 'Tales of My Landlord.'
We found the cottage a little off the road and not far from the river, nestling under the brow of a hill. I should, perhaps, say two cottages, joined together and nearly of the same size. The one on the left is of comparatively recent date and has a weather-stained bust of Sir Walter over the door. The older cottage is divided by a partition. On the right is a door and window of ordinary size. On the left is a door three and a half feet high and a very small window. There is no means of communication between the two apartments. The left side was occupied by David Ritchie and the right by his half-crazed sister, Agnes. There was never any affection between these two unfortunates, but on the contrary, and in spite of the loneliness of their lives, there was an almost complete estrangement.
THE BLACK DWARF'S COTTAGE
The cottage has a stone over the dwarf's door inscribed 'D. R. 1802.' This commemorates the date when it was built, by the charity of Sir James Nasmyth, the owner of the land. It replaces a hut built by David himself in very much the same manner as described in the novel. With his own hands the dwarf rolled the heavy stones down from the hill, and with what seemed to be almost superhuman strength, lifted them into position. He enlisted the aid of passers-by, however, to help lift the weightiest ones, which added to the wonderment of the next comers, who could not know how much he had been assisted. Scott says he settled on the land without asking or receiving permission, but was allowed to remain when discovered by the good-natured laird. William Chambers, however, who gave considerable study to the subject, says that the owner not only gave him possession of the ground rent-free, but instructed his servants to render such assistance as might be required.
The immediate occasion of building a house in this sequestered neighbourhood was the fact that Ritchie's painful sensitiveness about his ungainly appearance made it intolerable for him to remain in Edinburgh, whither he had gone to learn the trade of brush-making. Whatever instinct guided him to Manor Water, he could scarcely have found anywhere in Scotland a location better adapted to his requirements.
Here the good part of his nature asserted itself—for there is good in every human being, if only the key can be discovered that unlocks the secret chambers. The poor misshapen dwarf found his in the cultivation of a little garden, shut out from an unsympathetic world by a stone wall of his own construction. Within this sacred enclosure a profusion of flowers rankly unfolded their beauties to his eyes and shrank not from his touch. He had contrived to obtain some rare exotics and to learn their scientific names. He planted fruit trees in his garden and surrounded his little house with willows and mountain ashes, until he had converted it into a fairy bower. He found pleasure and profit in the raising of vegetables, and even cultivated certain medicinal herbs which he sold or gave to the neighbours. He also supplied some of the gentlemen of the vicinity with honey and took great delight in the care of his bees. A cat, a dog, and a goat completed the roll of his best-loved companions.
Besides the pleasure he took in the contemplation of his own garden, Ritchie was an ardent admirer of the natural beauty of the country which he had chosen for his home. 'The soft sweep of the green hill, the bubbling of a clear fountain or the complexities of a wild thicket, were scenes on which he often gazed for hours and, as he said, with inexpressible delight.' He felt that sense of rest and refreshment from the contemplation of nature which Bryant has so finely expressed:—