‘What I want of you is to give me a copy of the rental of Abbotsford, as it now stands, mentioning the actual rents of ground let, and the probable rents of those in my hand. You gave me one last year, but I would rather have the actual rents, and as such business is express, I would have you send it immediately, and keep it all as much within as you think fair and prudent. Your letter need only contain the rental, and you may write your remarks separately. I have not the slightest idea of losing a penny, but the distrust is so great in London that the best houses refuse the best bills of the best tradesmen, and as I have retained such a sum in view of protecting my literary commerce, I think it better to make use of it, and keep my own mind easy, than to carry about bills to unwilling banks, and beg for funds which I can use of my own. I have more than £10,000 to receive before Midsummer, but then I might be put to vexation before that, which I am determined to prevent.
‘By all I can learn, this is just such an embarrassment as may arise when pickpockets cry “Fire!” in a crowd, and honest men get trampled to death. Thank God, I can clear myself of the mêlée, and am not afraid of the slightest injury. If the money horizon does not clear up in a month or two, I will abridge my farming, &c. I cannot find there is any real cause for this; but an imaginary one will do equal mischief. I need not say this is confidential.—Yours truly,
Walter Scott.
‘16th December [1825], Edinburgh.’
‘The confusion of 1814 is a joke to this. I have no debts of my own. On the contrary, £3000 and more lying out on interest, &c. It is a little hard that, making about £7000 a year, and working hard for it, I should have this botheration. But it arises out of the nature of the same connection which gives, and has given me, a fortune, and therefore I am not entitled to grumble.’
[Edinburgh, January 26, 1826.]
‘My dear Willie—I wrote to you some days since, but from yours by the carrier I see my letter has not reached you. It does not much signify, as it was not, and could not be, of any great consequence until I see how these untoward matters are to turn up. Of course, everything will depend on the way the friends of the great house in London, and those of Constable here, shall turn out. Were they to be ultimately good, or near it, this would pass over my head with little inconvenience. But I think it better to take the worst point of view, and suppose that I do not receive from them above five shillings in the pound; and even in that case, I am able to make a proposal to my creditors, that if they allow me to put my affairs into the hands of a private trustee, or trustees, and finish the literary engagements I have on hand, there is no great chance of their being ultimate losers. This is the course I should choose. But if they wish rather to do what they can for themselves, they will, in that case, give me a great deal of pain, and make a great deal less of the funds. For, it is needless to say, that no security can make a man write books, and upon my doing so—I mean completing those in hand—depends the instant payment of a large sum. I have no reason to apprehend that any of the parties concerned are blind to their interest in this matter. I have had messages from all the banks, &c., offering what assistance they could give, so that I think my offer will be accepted. Indeed, as they cannot sell Abbotsford, owing to its being settled in Walter’s marriage contract, there can be little doubt they will adopt the only way which promises, with a little time, to give them full payment, and my life may, in the meanwhile, be insured. My present occupations completed, will enable me to lay down, in the course of the summer, at least £20,000 of good cash, which, if things had remained sound among the booksellers, would have put me on velvet.
‘The probable result being that we must be accommodated with the delay necessary, our plan is to sell the house and furniture in Castle Street, and Lady S. and Anne to come to Abbotsford, with a view of economising, while I take lodgings in Edinburgh, and work hard till the Session permits me to come out. All our farming operations must, of course, be stopped so soon as they can with least possible loss, and stock, &c., disposed of. In short, everything must be done to avoid outlay. At the same time, there can be no want of comfort. I must keep Peter and the horses for Lady Scott’s sake, though I make sacrifices in my own [case]. Bogie, I think, we will also keep, but we must sell the produce of the garden. As for Tom, he and I go to the grave together. All idle horses, &c., must be dispensed with.
‘For you, my dear friend, we must part—that is, as laird and factor—and it rejoices me to think that your patience and endurance, which set me so good an example, are like to bring round better days. You never flattered my prosperity, and in my adversity it is not the least painful consideration that I cannot any longer be useful to you. But Kaeside, I hope, will still be your residence; and I will have the advantage of your company and advice, and probably your services as amanuensis. Observe, I am not in indigence, though no longer in affluence; and if I am to exert myself in the common behalf, I must have honourable and easy means of life, although it will be my inclination to observe the most strict privacy, both to save expense and also time; nor do we propose to see any one but yourself and the Fergusons.
‘I will be obliged to you to think over all these matters; also whether anything could be done in leasing the saw-mill, or Swanston working it for the public. I should like to keep him if I could. I imagine they must leave me my official income, which, indeed, is not liable to be attached. That will be £1600 a year, but there is Charles’s college expenses come to £300 at least. I can add, however, £200 or £300 without interrupting serious work. Three or four years of my favour with the public, if my health and life permit, will make me better off than ever I have been in my life. I hope it will not inconvenience the Miss Smiths to be out of their money for a little while. It is a most unexpected chance on my part.