William Nelson A Memoir 1

William Nelson A Memoir 1

William Nelson A Memoir

 

Author: Daniel Wilson

 

FOREWORD.

The volume here produced for the eye of friends is the memorial of one

whose life presented a rare example of simplicity, of thoroughness in

working up to a high standard in all that he undertook, and fidelity in

his responsible stewardship as a man of wealth and a captain of

industry. The friendship between us extended in uninterrupted union,

with the maturing estimation of years and experience, from early boyhood

till both had passed the assigned limits of threescore years and ten. It

would have been easy to swell the volume into the bulky proportions of

modern biography: for William Nelson keenly enjoyed the communion of

friendship; and his correspondence furnishes many passages calculated to

interest others besides those who knew and loved him as a friend. But

the aim has been simply to present him “in his habit as he lived;” and

thus to preserve for relatives, personal friends, and for his

fellow-workers of all ranks, such a picture as may pleasantly recall

some reflex of a noble life; and record characteristic traits of one of

whom it can be so truly said: “To live in hearts of those we love is not

to die.”

 

D. W.

 

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO,

 

_September 26, 1889_.

 

 

 

 

CONTENTS.

 

 

I. INTRODUCTORY, 13

 

II. HAUNTS OF BOYHOOD, 26

 

III. SCHOOLS AND SCHOOLMATES, 41

 

IV. THE CASTLE HILL, 61

 

V. HOPE PARK, 77

 

VI. EGYPT AND PALESTINE, 87

 

VII. CHURCH--MARRIAGE, 108

 

VIII. SALISBURY GREEN, 121

 

IX. GLIMPSES OF TRAVEL, 137

 

X. HOLIDAYS ABROAD, 156

 

XI. PARKSIDE, 173

 

XII. CIVIC INTERESTS, 194

 

XIII. HOME HOLIDAYS, 213

 

XIV. PROJECTED TRAVEL--THE END, 228

 

 

 

 

_William Nelson._

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER I.

 

_INTRODUCTORY._

 

 

In the early years of the present century the Scottish capital retained

many features of its ancient aspect still unchanged; but among all the

old-world haunts surviving into modern times, the most notable, alike

for its picturesque quaintness and its varied associations, was the

avenue from the Grassmarket to the upper town. The West Bow, as this

thoroughfare was called, derived its name from the ancient bow, or

archway, which gave entrance to the little walled city before the civic

area was extended by the Flodden wall of 1513. But the archway remained

long after that date as the entrance to the upper town--the Temple Bar

of Edinburgh--at which the ceremonial welcome of royal and distinguished

visitors took place.

 

The West Bow had accordingly been the scene of many a royal cavalcade

of the Jameses and their queens; as well as of such representative men

as Ben Jonson and his brother-poet Drummond of Hawthornden, of Laud,

Montrose, Leslie, Cromwell, and Dundee. Among its quaint antique piles

were the gabled Temple Lands, St. James’s Altar Land, and the

timber-fronted lodging of Lord Ruthven, the ruthless leader in the

tragedy when Lord Darnley’s minions assassinated Rizzio in Queen Mary’s

chamber at Holyrood. There, too, remained till very recent years the

haunted house of the prince of Scottish wizards, Major Weir; and near by

the Clockmaker’s Land, noted to the last for the ingenious piece of

workmanship of Paul Remieu, a Huguenot refugee of the time of Charles

II. Nearly opposite was the dwelling of Provost Stewart, where, in the

famous ’45, he entertained Prince Charles Edward, while Holyrood was for

the last time the palace of the Stuarts. The alley which gave access to

the old Jacobite provost’s dwelling bore in its last days the name of

Donaldson’s Close; for here was the home of one of Edinburgh’s most

prosperous typographers, James Donaldson, who bequeathed the fortune won

by his craft to found the magnificent hospital which now rivals that of

the royal goldsmith of James I.

 

Such were some of the antique surroundings amid which the subject of the

present memoir passed his youth, and which no doubt had their influence

in developing an archæological taste, and that reverence for every

historical feature of his native city, which bore good fruit in later

years. But his more intimate associations were with the singularly

picturesque timber-fronted dwelling at the head of the West Bow, with

another fine elevation toward the Lawnmarket, which, till 1878, stood

unchanged as when the Flodden king rode past on his way to the Borough

Moor. A painting of the old house adorned the walls at Salisbury Green

in later years; and when at last the venerable structure was demolished,

some of its oaken timbers were secured by William Nelson and fashioned

into antique furniture for himself and his friends. This picturesque

building was the haunt of an old Edinburgh bookseller, the founder of

the well-known printing and publishing house of Thomas Nelson and Sons.

 

Mr. Thomas Nelson, the father of the subject of the present memoir, and

the originator of the great publishing firm, recurs to the present

writer in the memories of his own early years as a fine example of the

old Scottish type of silent, indomitable perseverance and sterling

integrity. The traditions of the race are thus set forth in a memorandum

in William Nelson’s handwriting:--“The Nelsons of our branch resided at

Throsk, a few miles east from Stirling, not far from the field of

Bannockburn. There was a tradition among us that some of our race lived

there at the time the battle was fought, and as a boy I was willing to

believe it.” There, at any rate, the Nelsons are known to have been for

four or five generations; and Thomas Nelson was born at Throsk in 1780.

His grandmother had seceded with the Erskines from the National Church;

and the spirit of that elder race of Scottish nonconformists was

inherited by their children. They joined a congregation of Reformed

Presbyterians, or Covenanters, at Stirling; and the boy grew up on his

father’s farm under all the influences of that earnest, unwavering

religious faith, which has so often seemed the fitting complement to the

ruggedness of the Scottish character, while it has, in not a few

instances, furnished the best preparation, for a successful career in

business. His father led a retired life on his carse farm, with Stirling

sufficiently near to admit of his enjoying the privilege of regular

worship with the devout little band of Presbyterian nonconformists

there. So little was he affected by the enterprise of younger

generations that he could not be persuaded to turn to profitable account

a small pottery on the land he occupied. He was content with the humble

career of a small farmer. But the monotony of farm-life was varied by

long journeys, staff in hand, in which the boy accompanied his father,

to attend the great gatherings at the sacramental seasons. In the

persecuting times the devout adherents of the Covenant had been wont to

assemble in some secluded glen to enjoy in safety the privileges of the

communion service, and their descendants continued the practice in more

peaceful times. Under such training the boy reached his sixteenth year,

when, after a brief experience as a teacher, some chance report of

prosperous adventure in the West Indies tempted the youth with its

illusive visions. Bidding his friends and home farewell, his father

accompanied him for some miles on the road to Alloa, giving his best

counsel and advice to the lad by the way. When they reached the place of

parting, his father said to him, “Thomas, my boy, have you ever thought

that where you are going you will be far away from the means of grace?”

“No, father,” said he, “I never thought of that, and I won’t go.”

 

Thus abruptly the scheme was abandoned. They retraced their steps to the

old farm, and the boy found employment for a time at Craigend, near

Stirling. There he formed the acquaintance of Symington, whose

steam-engine was first applied to navigation, and sailed with him in

some of the earliest trial-trips on the Carron Water. The pottery which

his father had neglected was started on a neighbouring farm, and young

Nelson was anxious to get the management of it. But the scheme appears

to have been distasteful to his father, whose secret desire probably was

that his boy should follow his own example, and so escape the world’s

trials and temptations. But the son’s ambition aimed at something more

advantageous than the homely career of a lowland farmer; and so,

by-and-by, he betook himself to London, entered the service of a

publishing house there, and began the training which ultimately begot

the great publishing firm that bears his name.