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Page 42
But I must give you my impression of this fine city. Edinburgh is the
most picturesque of all the towns which I have visited since my arrival
in the father-land. Its situation has been compared to that of Athens,
but it is said that the modern Athens is superior to the ancient. I was
deeply impressed with the idea that I had seen the most beautiful of
cities, after beholding those fashionable resorts, Paris and Versailles.
I have seen nothing in the way of public grounds to compare with the
gardens of Versailles, or the _Champs Elysees_ at Paris; and as for
statuary, the latter place is said to take the lead of the rest of the
world.
The general appearance of Edinburgh prepossesses one in its favour. The
town being built upon the brows of a large terrace, presents the most
wonderful perspective. Its first appearance to a stranger, and the first
impression, can scarcely be but favourable. In my first walk through the
town, I was struck with the difference in the appearance of the people
from the English. But the difference between the Scotch and the
Americans, is very great. The cheerfulness depicted in the countenances
of the people here, and their free and easy appearance, is very striking
to a stranger. He who taught the sun to shine, the flowers to bloom, the
birds to sing, and blesses us with rain, never intended that his
creatures should look sad. There is a wide difference between the
Americans and any other people which I have seen. The Scotch are healthy
and robust, unlike the long-faced, sickly-looking Americans.
While on our journey from London to Paris, to attend the Peace Congress,
I could not but observe the marked difference between the English and
American delegates. The former looked as if their pockets had been
filled with sandwiches, made of good bread and roast beef, while the
latter appeared as if their pockets had been filled with Holloway's
Pills, and Mrs. Kidder's Cordial.
I breakfasted this morning in a room in which the Poet Burns, as I was
informed, had often sat. The conversation here turned upon Burns. The
lady of the house pointed to a scrap of poetry which was in a frame
hanging on the wall, written, as she said, by the Poet, on hearing the
people rejoicing in a church over the intelligence of a victory. I
copied it and will give it to you:--
"Ye hypocrites! are these your pranks,
To murder men and give God thanks?
For shame! give o'er, proceed no further,
God won't accept your thanks for murder."
The fact that I was in the room where Scotland's great national poet had
been a visitor, caused me to feel that I was on classic, if not hallowed
ground. On returning from our morning visit, we met a gentleman with a
coloured lady on each arm. Craft remarked in a very dry manner, "If they
were in Georgia, the slaveholders would make them walk in a more hurried
gait than they do." I said to my friend, that if he meant the
pro-slavery prejudice would not suffer them to walk peaceably through
the streets, they need go no further than the pro-slavery cities of New
York and Philadelphia. When walking through the streets, I amused
myself, by watching Craft's countenance; and in doing so, imagined I saw
the changes experienced by every fugitive slave in his first month's
residence in this country. A sixteen months' residence has not yet
familiarized me with the change.
* * * * *
LAUREL BANK, _Jan. 18, 1851_.
Dear Douglass,--I remained in Edinburgh a day or two after the
date of my last letter, which gave me an opportunity of seeing some of
the lions in the way of public buildings, &c., in company with our
friend Wm. Craft. I paid a visit to the Royal Institute, and inspected
the very fine collection of paintings, statues, and other productions of
art. The collection in the Institute is not to be compared to the
British Museum at London, or the Louvre at Paris, but is probably the
best in Scotland. Paintings from the hands of many of the masters, such
as Sir A. Vandyke, Tiziano, Vercellio and Van Dellen, were hanging on
the wall, and even the names of Reubens, and Titian, were attached to
some of the finer specimens. Many of these represent some of the nobles,
and distinguished families of Rome, Athens, Greece, &c. A beautiful one
representing a group of the Lomellini family of Genoa, seemed to attract
the attention of most of the visitors.
In visiting this place, we passed close by the monument of Sir Walter
Scott. This is the most exquisite thing of the kind that I have seen
since coming to this country. It is said to be the finest monument in
Europe. There sits the author of "Waverley," with a book and pencil in
hand, taking notes. A beautiful dog is seated by his side. Whether this
is meant to represent his favourite dog, Camp, at whose death the Poet
shed so many tears, we were not informed; but I was of opinion that it
might be the faithful Percy, whose monument stands in the grounds at
Abbotsford. Scott was an admirer of the canine tribe. One may form a
good idea of the appearance of this distinguished writer, when living,
by viewing this remarkable statue. The statue is very beautiful, but not
equal to the one of Lord Byron, which was executed to be placed by the
side of Johnson, Milton, and Addison, in Poets' Corner, Westminster
Abbey; but the Parliament not allowing it a place there, it now stands
in one of the Colleges at Cambridge. While viewing the statue of Byron,
I thought he, too, should have been represented with a dog by his side,
for he, like Scott, was remarkably fond of dogs, so much so that he
intended to have his favourite, Boatswain, interred by his side.
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