The sudden fall in the price of grain at the close of the war, which so severely affected many tenant-farmers, pressed heavily on Laidlaw, and compelled him to abandon his lease. He now accepted the offer of Sir Walter to become steward at Abbotsford, and, accordingly, removed his family in 1817 to Kaeside, a cottage on the estate comfortably fitted up for their reception. Through Scott's recommendation, he was employed to prepare the chronicle of events and publications for the Edinburgh Annual Register; and for a short period he furnished a similar record to Blackwood's Magazine. He did not persevere in literary labours, his time becoming wholly occupied in superintending improvements at Abbotsford. When Sir Walter was in the country, he was privileged with his daily intercourse, and was uniformly invited to meet those literary characters who visited the mansion. When official duties detained Scott in the capital, Laidlaw was his confidential correspondent. Sir Walter early communicated to him the unfortunate event of his commercial embarrassments, in a letter honourable to his heart. After feelingly expressing his apprehension lest his misfortunes should result in depriving his correspondent of the factorship, Sir Walter proceeds in his letter: "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, the better to save expense, and also time. I do not dislike the path which lies before me. I have seen all that society can shew, and enjoyed all that wealth can give me, and I am satisfied much is vanity, if not vexation of spirit." Laidlaw was too conscientious to remain at Abbotsford, to be a burden on his illustrious friend; he removed to his native district, and for three years employed himself in a variety of occupations till 1830, when the promise of brighter days to his benefactor warranted his return. Scott had felt his departure severely, characterising it as "a most melancholy blank," and his return was hailed with corresponding joy. He was now chiefly employed as Sir Walter's amanuensis. During his last illness, Laidlaw was constant in his attendance, and his presence was a source of peculiar pleasure to the distinguished sufferer. After the funeral, Sir Walter's eldest son and his lady presented him with a brooch, their marriage gift to their revered father, which he wore at the time of his decease; it was afterwards worn by his affectionate steward to the close of his life. The death of Scott took place on the 21st of September 1832, and shortly thereafter Laidlaw bade adieu to Abbotsford. He was appointed factor on the Ross-shire property of Mrs Stewart Mackenzie of Seaforth,—a situation which he subsequently exchanged for the factorship of Sir Charles Lockhart Ross of Balnagowan, in the same county. Compelled to resign the latter appointment from impaired health, he ultimately took up his residence with his brother, Mr James Laidlaw, tenant at Contin, near Dingwall, in whose house he expired on the 18th of May 1845, having attained his sixty-fifth year. At an early age he espoused his cousin, Miss Ballantyne, by whom he had a numerous family. His remains were interred in the churchyard of Contin, a sequestered spot under the shade of the elevated Tor-Achilty, amidst the most interesting Highland scenery.
A man of superior shrewdness, and well acquainted with literature and rural affairs, Laidlaw was especially devoted to speculations in science. He was an amateur physician, a student of botany and entomology, and a considerable geologist. He prepared a statistical account of Innerleithen, wrote a geological description of Selkirkshire, and contributed several articles to the "Edinburgh Encyclopedia." In youth, he was an enthusiast in ballad-lore; and he was especially expert in filling up blanks in the compositions of the elder minstrels. His original metrical productions are limited to those which appear in the present work. "Lucy's Flittin'" is his masterpiece; we know not a more exquisitely touching ballad in the language, with the single exception of "Robin Gray." Laidlaw was a devoted friend, and a most intelligent companion; he spoke the provincial vernacular, but his manners were polished and pleasing. He was somewhat under the middle height, but was well formed and slightly athletic, and his fresh-coloured complexion beamed a generous benignity.
LUCY'S FLITTIN'.[118]
Air—"Paddy O'Rafferty."
'Twas when the wan leaf frae the birk tree was fa'in',
And Martinmas dowie had wind up the year,
That Lucy row'd up her wee kist wi' her a' in 't,
And left her auld maister and neebours sae dear.
For Lucy had served in "The Glen" a' the simmer;
She cam there afore the flower bloom'd on the pea;
An orphan was she, and they had been gude till her,
Sure that was the thing brocht the tear to her e'e.
She gaed by the stable where Jamie was stan'in',
Richt sair was his kind heart the flittin' to see.
Fare-ye-weel, Lucy! quo' Jamie, and ran in,
The gatherin' tears trickled fast frae his e'e.
As down the burnside she gaed slaw wi' the flittin',
Fare-ye-weel, Lucy! was ilka bird's sang.
She heard the craw sayin 't, high on the tree sittin',
And robin was chirpin 't the brown leaves amang.
Oh, what is 't that pits my puir heart in a flutter?
And what gars the tears come sae fast to my e'e?
If I wasna ettled to be ony better,
Then what gars me wish ony better to be?
I 'm just like a lammie that loses its mither;
Nae mither or friend the puir lammie can see;
I fear I hae tint my puir heart a' the gither,
Nae wonder the tear fa's sae fast frae my e'e.
Wi' the rest o' my claes I hae row'd up the ribbon,
The bonnie blue ribbon that Jamie gae me;
Yestreen, when he gae me 't, and saw I was sabbin',
I 'll never forget the wae blink o' his e'e.
Though now he said naething but Fare-ye-weel, Lucy!
It made me I neither could speak, hear, nor see,
He cudna say mair but just, Fare-ye-weel, Lucy!
Yet that I will mind till the day that I dee.
The lamb likes the gowan wi' dew when it 's drowkit;
The hare likes the brake, and the braird on the lea,
But Lucy likes Jamie;—she turn'd and she lookit,
She thocht the dear place she wad never mair see.
Ah, weel may young Jamie gang dowie and cheerless,
And weel may he greet on the bank o' the burn;
For bonnie sweet Lucy, sae gentle and peerless,
Lies cauld in her grave, and will never return.