The Scottish Prisoner

Below is the text of Walpole’s account of the funeral; you may find it interesting to compare this with the fictionalized view in Chapter 43. The temptation, when presented with such eloquent historical largesse, is to use it all, but that’s a temptation that should, by and large, be resisted. The point of fiction is to tell a particular story, and too much embroidery can’t but detract, no matter how fascinating.

In this instance, the point of showing you the king’s funeral was primarily that it provided Lord John with his moment of enlightenment regarding Jamie’s motive for remaining at Helwater. Secondarily, it shows a historical turning point that a) anchors the reader in time, b) metaphorically underlines the conclusion of the Grey brothers’ quest, c) marks a turning point in Lord John’s relationship with Jamie Fraser, and d) opens the door to a new phase of both personal and public history—for George III (who was the grandson, not the son, of George II) is, of course, the king from whom the American colonies revolted, and we see in the later books of the Outlander series just how thataffects the lives of Lord John, Jamie Fraser, and William.

To George Montagu, Esq.

Arlington-street, November 13, 1760.

  … Do you know, I had the curiosity to go to the burying t’other night; I had never seen a royal funeral; nay, I walked as a rag of quality, which I found would be, and so it was, the easiest way of seeing it. It is absolutely a noble sight. The prince’s chamber, hung with purple, and a quantity of silver lamps, the coffin under a canopy of purple velvet, and six vast chandeliers of silver on high stands, had a very good effect. The ambassador from Tripoli and his son were carried to see that chamber. The procession, through a line of foot-guards, every seventh man bearing a torch, the horse-guards lining the outside, their officers with drawn sabres and crape sashes on horseback, the drums muffled, the fifes, bells tolling, and minute guns,—all this was very solemn. But the charm was the entrance of the abbey, where we were received by the dean and chapter in rich robes, the choir and almsmen bearing torches; the whole abbey so illuminated, that one saw it to greater advantage than by day; the tombs, long aisles, and fretted roof, all appearing distinctly, and with the happiest chiara scuro. There wanted nothing but incense, and little chapels here and there, with priests saying mass for the repose of the defunct; yet one could not complain of its not being catholic enough. I had been in dread of being coupled with some boy of ten years old; but the heralds were not very accurate, and I walked with George Grenville, taller and older, to keep me in countenance. When we came to the chapel of Henry the seventh, all solemnity and decorum ceased; no order was observed, people sat or stood where they could or would; the yeomen of the guard were crying out for help, oppressed by the immense weight of the coffin; the bishop read sadly, and blundered in the prayers; the fine chapter, Man that is born of a woman, was chaunted, not read; and the anthem, besides being immeasurably tedious, would have served as well for a nuptial. The real serious part was the figure of the duke of Cumberland, heightened by a thousand melancholy circumstances. He had a dark brown adonis, and a cloak of black cloth, with a train of five yards. Attending the funeral of a father could not be pleasant: his leg extremely bad, yet forced to stand upon it near two hours; his face bloated and distorted with his late paralytic stroke, which has affected too one of his eyes, and placed over the mouth of the vault, into which, in all probability, he must himself so soon descend; think how unpleasant a situation! He bore it all with a firm and unaffected countenance. This grave scene was fully contrasted by the burlesque duke of Newcastle. He fell into a fit of crying the moment he came into the chapel, and flung himself back in a stall, the archbishop hovering over him with a smelling-bottle; but in two minutes his curiosity got the better of his hypocrisy, and he ran about the chapel with his glass to spy who was or was not there, spying with one hand, and mopping his eyes with the other. Then returned the fear of catching cold; and the duke of Cumberland, who was sinking with heat, felt himself weighed down, and turning round, found it was the duke of Newcastle standing upon his train, to avoid the chill of the marble. It was very theatric to look down into the vault, where the coffin lay, attended by mourners with lights. Clavering, the groom of the bed-chamber, refused to sit up with the body, and was dismissed by the king’s order.

I have nothing more to tell you, but a trifle, a very trifle. The king of Prussia has totally defeated marshal Daun. This, which would have been prodigious news a month ago, is nothing today; it only takes its turn among the questions, “Who is to be groom of the bed-chamber? what is sir T. Robinson to have?” I have been to Leicester-fields today; the crowd was immoderate; I don’t believe it will continue so. Good night.

Yours ever.

Remarks on Some Eighteenth-Century Words and Foreign Phrases

“making love”—This term, like some other period phrases, exists in modern speech, but has changed its meaning. It was not a synonym for “engaging in sexual relations,” but was strictly a male activity and meant any sort of amorous wooing behavior, including the writing or reading of romantic poetry to a young woman, giving her flowers, whispering sweet nothings in her ear, or going so far as kissing, cupping (breasts, we assume), toying (pretty open-ended), etc.—but certainly not including sexual intercourse.

“gagging”(e.g., “What had the gagging wee bitch been saying?”)—This is a Scots word (not Gaelic), meaning “hoaxing,” from which we might deduce an etymology that led to the present-day “gag,” meaning a joke of some sort.

“imbranglement”—period colloquialism; an onomatopoetic word that means just what it sounds like: complicated and involuntary entanglement, whether physical, legal, or emotional.

whisky vs. whiskey—Scotch whisky is spelled without an “e” and Irish whiskey is spelled with an “e.” Consequently, I’ve observed this geographical peculiarity, depending on the location where the substance is produced and/or being ingested.

pixilated—nowadays, you occasionally see this term (spelled as “pixelated”) used to mean “rendered digitally, in pixels,” or “of unusably low-resolution,” in reference to a photographic image. It was used as a reference to stop-frame photographic technique even before the development of digital photography, and spelled as “pixilated” it was used as a synonym for drunke

Humpty-Dumpty—The first known publishedversion of this nursery rhyme is from 1803, but there’s considerable evidence for the name and general concept—as well as, perhaps, earlier versions of the rhyme—existing prior to this. “Humpty dumpty” is a documented slang term from the eighteenth century, used to refer to a short, clumsy person, and while Tom Byrd doesn’t use the name, he’s obviously familiar with the concept.

Plan B—I had some concern from one editor and one beta-reader as to whether “Plan B” sounded anachronistic. I didn’t think so, and explained my reasoning thus:

Dear Bill—

Well, I thought about that. On the one hand, there is “Plan 9 from Outer Space” and the like, which would certainly lead one to suppose “Plan B” is modern. And it certainly is common (modern) short-hand for any backup contingency.