[Frontispiece: Sir Walter Scott]
THE COUNTRY OF
SIR WALTER SCOTT
BY
CHARLES S. OLCOTT
_Author of George Eliot: Scenes and People of Her Novels_
ILLUSTRATED FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
BY THE AUTHOR
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
The Riverside Press Cambridge
COPYRIGHT, 1913, BY CHARLES S. OLCOTT
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published September 1913
TO
MY WIFE
THE COMPANION OF MY TRAVELS
TO WHOSE SYMPATHETIC COOPERATION I AM
INDEBTED FOR MUCH OF THE MATERIAL
THIS BOOK
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
CONTENTS
Introduction
I. The 'Making' of Sir Walter
II. The Lay of the Last Minstrel
III. Marmion
IV. The Lady of the Lake
V. Rokeby
VI. The Bridal of Triermain
VII. The Lord of the Isles
VIII. Waverley
IX. Guy Mannering
X. The Antiquary
XI. The Black Dwarf
XII. Old Mortality
XIII. Rob Roy
XIV. The Heart of Midlothian
XV. The Bride of Lammermoor
XVI. A Legend of Montrose
XVII. Ivanhoe
XVIII. The Monastery
XIX. The Abbot
XX. Kenilworth
XXI. The Pirate
XXII. The Fortunes of Nigel
XXIII. Peveril of the Peak
XXIV. Quentin Durward
XXV. St. Ronan's Well
XXVI. Redgauntlet
XXVII. Tales of the Crusaders
XXVIII. Woodstock
XXIX. The Fair Maid of Perth
XXX. The Chronicles of the Canongate and Other Tales
The Highland Widow
The Two Drovers
The Surgeon's Daughter
Anne of Geierstein
Count Robert of Paris
Castle Dangerous
XXXXI. A Successful Life
Index
ILLUSTRATIONS
Portrait of Sir Walter Scott . . . . . . Frontispiece
Photogravure from an engraving by William Walker of a painting
by Sir Henry Raeburn, R.A., 1822.
Smailholm
Kelso Abbey
The Popping Stone
Lasswade Cottage
Map Of Scotland
Showing localities of Scott's writings
St. Mary's Loch
Branksome Hall
Melrose Abbey
Ashestiel
Entrance to Norham Castle
Llndisfarne Abbey
Tantallon Castle
Loch Achray
Cambusmore
Glenfinglas
Stirling Castle
Brackenbury Tower, Barnard Castle
The Valley of the Tees
From Barnard Castle
The Valley of St. John
Showing Triermain Castle Rock
Turnberry Castle, Coast of Ayrshire
Grandtully Castle
Doune Castle
From the Teith
Ullswater
Waverley's retreat after the defeat of the Chevalier
Caerlaverock Castle
Edinburgh from the Castle
Auchmuthie
The Black Dwarf's Cottage
Craignethan Castle (Tillietudlem)
Crichope Linn
Chillingham Castle
Loch Lomond from Inversnaid
St. Anthony's Chapel
Crichton Castle
Loch Lubnaig
Map of England
Showing Localities of Scott's writings
Castle of Ashby de la Zouch
The Buck-Gate
Entrance to the Duke of Portland's estate, Sherwood Forest
The Avenue of Limes, Sherwood Forest
Interior of Fountains Abbey
Coningsburgh Castle
Cathcart Castle
Leicester's Buildings, Kenilworth
Cæsar's Tower, Kenilworth
Entrance to Warwick Castle
Mervyn's Tower, Kenilworth
Lerwick, Shetland
A Crofter's Cottage, Orkney
Sumburgh Head, Shetland
Scalloway, Shetland
The Standing Stones of Stennis
Stromness, Orkney
Map of London
Showing localities of Scott's writings
The Pack-Horse Bridge, Haddon Hall
The Saxon Tower, Isle of Man
The Tweed and Eildon Hills
Scott's Tomb, Dryburgh
Hoddam Castle
Powis Castle, Wales
Godstow Priory
Burial-place of 'The Fair Rosamond'
Loch Tay
House of the Fair Maid of Perth
Abbotsford
Scott Monument, Edinburgh
{xiii}
INTRODUCTION
On the first day of May, 1911, we began our exploration of the 'Scott
Country.' I say we, because I was accompanied by the companion of a
much longer journey, of which that year was the twenty-fifth milestone.
Whether from reasons of sentiment resulting from the near approach of
our silver anniversary, or because of more prosaic geographical
considerations, we began at the place where Walter Scott discovered
that he would be likely to see more of the beauty of life if he were
equipped with two pairs of eyes rather than one. This was at the
village of Gilsland, in the north of England, where the poet first met
the companion who was to share the joys and sorrows of the best years
of his life. A pony and dogcart took us clattering up to the top of
the hill, where, leaving our conveyance, we started down the glen to
the banks of the river Irthing. Here the camera promptly responded to
the call of a beautiful view and the first exposure was made:--a gently
flowing stream of shallow water, scarcely covering the rocky bed of the
river; a pleasant path along the bank, well shaded from the sun; and a
slender little waterfall in the distance;--the same scene which so
often met the eyes of Walter Scott and his future bride as they
strolled along the stream in their 'courting' days.
This was the beginning of a tour which eventually led into nearly every
county of Scotland, as far north as the Shetland Islands, and through a
large part of England {xiv} and Wales. We went wherever we thought we
might find a beautiful or an interesting picture, connected in some way
with the life of Sir Walter, or mentioned by him in some novel or poem.
Knowing that he had derived his inspiration from an intimate knowledge
of the country, we sought to follow his footsteps so far as possible.
Months of preparation had been devoted to the work before leaving home.
Every novel and poem had to be read, besides many books of reference,
including, of course, Lockhart's _Life_, for it would not have been
safe to trust to the recollections of earlier reading. Notes were made
of the places to be sought, and two large maps were prepared on which I
marked circles with a red pencil around all points which I thought
ought to be visited, until my maps began to look as though they were
suffering from a severe attack of measles. Then the route was laid out
by 'centres.' The first was Carlisle, then Dumfries, Melrose,
Edinburgh, Berwick, Glasgow, Stirling, Callander, the Trossachs, Oban,
and so on until the entire country had been covered. From each
'centre' as a convenient point of departure we explored the country in
many directions, visiting so far as possible every scene of the novels
and poems that could be identified.
It was surprising to find so many of these scenes exactly as Sir Walter
had described them. The mountains and valleys, the rivers, lakes, and
waterfalls, the wild ruggedness of the seaside cliffs, the quaint
little old-fashioned villages, the ruined castles and abbeys, all
brought back memories of the romances which he had so charmingly set
amidst these scenes. It was like actually living the Waverley Novels
to see them. And in seeing {xv} them, we came to know, on intimate
terms, Sir Walter himself; to feel the genial influence of his presence
as if he were a fellow traveller, and to love him as his companions had
done a century ago.
But our constant purpose was to do more than this. With the help of
the camera we sought to catch something of the spirit of the scenery
and to bring it home with us, in the hope that those who have never
seen the 'Scott Country' might at least have a few glimpses of it, and
that those who have seen all or a part of it, might find in these views
a pleasant reminder of what must have been a happy experience.
There is no occasion to add at the present time to the volume of
literary criticism of such well-known novels and poems as those of
Scott, nor is it possible to add any material facts to his biography.
This book makes no such claim. It does not attempt to retell the
romances, except in so far as may be necessary to explain their
connexion with the scenery or to introduce the 'original' of some
well-known character. If a glimpse of the novelist's genial face is
seen now and then, it is because his spirit pervades every nook and
corner of bonnie Scotland, and it would be impossible for appreciative
eyes to view the scenery without seeing something of the man whose
genius has added so greatly to its charm.
If this book shall add to the pleasure of any of the readers of Sir
Walter Scott by bringing them into the atmosphere of his novels and
poems, and so a little nearer to the kindly personality of the man, its
purpose will have been fulfilled.
{1}
THE COUNTRY
OF SIR WALTER SCOTT
CHAPTER I
THE 'MAKING' OF SIR WALTER
'He was makin' himsel' a' the time, but he didna ken maybe what he was
about till years had passed; at first he thought o' little, I dare say,
but the queerness and the fun.'
In these expressive words, Robert Shortreed, who guided Walter Scott on
the celebrated 'raids' into the Liddesdale country, correctly
summarized the youth and early manhood of the future poet and novelist.
Scott was thirty-four years old when the 'Lay of the Last Minstrel'
appeared, and had reached the mature age of forty-three before he
published the first of the Waverley Novels. But from early childhood
he was busily engaged, with more or less conscious purpose, in
gathering the materials for his future work.
It is the purpose of this chapter to show, by a brief survey of these
preparatory years, how he acquired that intimate knowledge of human
nature that enabled him to record so truthfully and with such real
sympathy the thoughts and feelings, the hopes and fears, the manners of
life, the dress, the conversation, and the personal peculiarities of
people of every degree, from Mary, Queen of Scots, to Meg Merrilies,
the Queen of the {2} Gipsies; from the lordly Earl of Montrose down to
the humblest of the Children of the Mist. It will also aim to suggest
something of the method by which he learned to paint such charming
pictures of ancient castles and ruined abbeys, of princes' palaces and
fishermen's cottages, of rocky shores and wild paths through the woods,
of rivers, lakes, and mountains, and all the other elements that make
up the varied and beautiful scenery of Scotland and England.
In the hilly country south of Edinburgh, standing alone on a high rock,
is an old feudal tower called Smailholm. Outlined against the western
sky, in the glow of a summer sunset, it seemed to us like a proud and
beautiful capital letter 'I,' saying with some emphasis on the personal
pronoun, '_I_ am a thing of some importance.' We forgave the egotism,
for the old tower really is important, marking the very beginning of
Walter Scott's career, the spot where he received his first poetic
impulse. Here at the age of three years, he rolled about on the rocks
with the sheep and lambs as if he were one of them. He had been
brought to Sandy Knowe, the home of his grandfather, in an effort to
save his life, for he had been a sickly child, and six brothers and
sisters had died in infancy, so that his parents were naturally more
than anxious. The life out of doors soon brought a marked improvement,
and except for the lameness, which never left him, the boy became
healthy and vigorous. He was attended by an old shepherd, known as the
'cow-bailie,' who had a great fund of Border stories, to which the lad
listened eagerly.
[Illustration: SMAILHOLM]
A devoted aunt, Miss Janet Scott, who lived at the farm, often read to
him stories of Bible heroes and of the {3} great men of Scottish
history. From a few volumes of miscellaneous poetry which the family
chanced to own, she read some Scottish ballads which quickly seized
upon his childish fancy. He was especially fond of historical tales,
and under the shadow of the old tower he used to marshal the armies of
Scotland and England, fighting their battles with mimic forces of
pebbles and shells, and always ending the conflict with the complete
rout of the English and the triumph of the Scottish arms. One day he
was missed during a violent thunderstorm, and the household set out in
search of him. He was found lying on his back on the rocks, kicking
his heels in the air and clapping his hands with delight as he watched
the vivid lightning; and as one flash followed another, each more
brilliant than the one before, he would shout, 'Bonnie! Bonnie!! Dae
it again! Dae it again!' I like to think of this scene as symbolic;
as a prophecy of the time, soon to come, when the lad, grown to
manhood, would be sending out flash after flash of his genius while the
whole world looked on in delight, shouting, 'Bonnie! Bonnie!! Dae it
again! Dae it again!'
How much the old tower of Smailholm really had to do with Scott's
earliest poetic fancy he has himself told in a touching reference in
the Introduction to the Third Canto of 'Marmion':--
And still I thought that shattered tower
The mightiest work of human power,
And marvelled as the aged hind
With some strange tale bewitched my mind.
He made it the setting of one of his earliest poems, 'The Eve of St.
John,' and probably had it in mind, when {4} writing 'The Monastery'
and 'The Abbot,' as the original of Avenel Castle. Smailholm was once
surrounded by water, all of which has been drained off except a very
small portion on the eastern side. With the addition of the original
lake it would make a very good prototype of Avenel.
At the age of six, Scott was taken for a visit to Prestonpans, where he
made the acquaintance of George Constable, the original of Monkbarns in
'The Antiquary.' This statement should be qualified, however, for
Scott himself was the real 'Antiquary' in many ways. None but a
genuine antiquarian could ever have written that keen bit of humorous
characterization. This old gentleman, besides giving Scott his first
knowledge of Shakespeare, told him many excellent stories of the
'affair of 1745' and of the battle of Prestonpans. Here he also made
the acquaintance of an old man who had seen much service in the German
wars and who was delighted to find a good listener to his tales of
military feats. Under the guidance of this old soldier, whose name,
Dalgetty, subsequently reappears in 'A Legend of Montrose,' he explored
the battle-field, heard the story of Colonel Gardiner's death, and
found the grave of 'Balmawhapple,' 'where the grass grew rank and
green, distinguishing it from the rest of the field.' This was in
1777, when Scott was only six. Thirty-seven years later these early
impressions found a place in 'Waverley.'
At about the same period young Walter was presented with a Shetland
pony, an animal not so large as a full-grown Newfoundland dog. He soon
learned to ride, and often frightened his Aunt Jenny by dashing
recklessly {5} over the rocks about the tower. The importance of the
event lies in the fact that it was the beginning of Scott's fondness
for horseback riding, his proficiency in which played an important part
in later years, enabling him to gather valuable material that would not
otherwise have been accessible. Scott's father now thought best to
bring him back to Edinburgh, where he lived the life of an average
schoolboy, with this difference, that his lameness frequently confined
him to the house, compelling him to seek his amusement in books instead
of romping with his fellows in George's Square. At twelve years, and
again a little later, he went for a vacation visit to his Aunt
Jenny,--Miss Janet Scott,--who was then living at Kelso in a small
house, pleasantly situated in a garden of seven or eight acres, 'full
of long straight walks, between hedges of yew and hornbeam' and
'thickets of flowery shrubs.' The Grammar School of Kelso was attached
to the old Abbey. Here he met the two men who, though lifelong
friends, were destined to bring to Walter Scott the saddest experience
of his career--James and John Ballantyne, the publishers, whose failure
clouded the last years of the novelist's life, forcing upon him the
payment of a debt of £117,000,--a task which he manfully assumed, and
wore out his life in the execution of it. Another school fellow here
was Robert Waldie, whose mother showed Scott many attentions. It was
through his association with 'Lady Waldie,' who was a member of the
Society of Friends, that Scott in subsequent years was enabled to paint
the lovely picture of the home life at Mount Sharon of Joshua Geddes
and his sister, which adds so much to the pleasure of 'Redgauntlet.'
{6}
An old vault in Kelso Abbey was used as the village prison--the kind of
a jail which Edie Ochiltree thought 'wasna so dooms bad a place as it
was ca'd.' No doubt the real Edie was often confined here. He was an
old mendicant, well known in the neighbourhood, by the name of Andrew
Gemmels. Scott met him often. Many curious stories are related of his
eccentricities. He was once presented with a good suit of clothes
which he thankfully accepted. The friendly donor chanced to meet him
later in the day, dragging the clothes behind him along the road
through the dirt and mud. Being asked why he treated the gift in that
way he replied that he would have 'to trail the duds that way for twa
days, to mak them _fit for use_.'
[Illustration: KELSO ABBEY]
A few miles southeast of Kelso, in the village of Kirk Yetholm, Scott
picked up another of his most famous characters--the picturesque Meg
Merrilies. Kirk Yetholm was in Scott's boyhood, and even later in his
life, the headquarters of a large gipsy tribe. Such a people could not
fail to interest one of his temperament and he soon came to know them
on familiar terms. The Queen of the Gipsies introduced herself by
giving him an apple. She was a woman of extraordinary height, dressed
in a long red cloak, who naturally inspired the boy with a feeling of
awe. Her name was Madge Gordon, a granddaughter of Jean Gordon, the
most famous of the Gipsies. Jean's history was well known. She was an
ardent Jacobite, and met her death at Carlisle in 1746, in a most
inhuman fashion, being drowned by a mob in the river Eden. She was a
powerful woman and as the men struggled to keep her head under the
water, she kept coming to the surface, each time screaming, {7}
'Charlie yet! Charlie yet!' Scott as a child often heard her story
and cried piteously for old Jean Gordon. She was the real Meg
Merrilies.
During his frequent visits to Kelso and subsequent residence at
Rosebank, near by, Scott explored the country in every direction. He
rode over the battlefield of Flodden, becoming convinced that 'never
was an affair more completely bungled.' He explored the heights of
Branxton Hill, and riding through the village of Coldstream, passed the
old town of Lennel, where Marmion paused on the eve of the battle.
Then recrossing the river, he came to Twisel Bridge, and following the
course of the Tweed, reached the ruins of Norham Castle, where Marmion
was entertained by Sir Hugh Heron. This was an old Border fortress
which passed from Scottish to English hands and back again for several
centuries. Thus, without conscious effort, Scott laid the foundation
for 'Marmion' early in life, though the poem did not take final shape
until nearly twenty years later.
When not spending his vacations in the country, Scott was attending the
college in Edinburgh and later preparing himself for the practice of
the law. During all these years the gathering of materials for his
future writings continued. A favourite companion of the days in
Edinburgh was John Irving. On Saturdays, or more frequently during
vacations, the two used to borrow three or four books from the
circulating library and walk to Salisbury Crags, climb high up to some
sequestered nook and read the books together. After continuing this
practice for two years, during which they devoured a prodigious number
of volumes, Scott {8} proposed that they should make up adventures of
their favourite knights-errant, and recite them to each other
alternately--a pastime in which Scott greatly excelled his companion.
At this time the former began to collect old ballads, and as Irving's
mother knew a great many, he used to go to her and learn all she could
repeat. Salisbury Crags and Arthur's Seat found their way into
'Waverley,' and later, with St. Leonard's Hill, in the same vicinity,
became the background for the earlier chapters of the 'Heart of
Midlothian.' The ruins of St. Anthony's Chapel, on the ascent to
Arthur's Seat, must have been one of these favourite nooks. Blackford
Hill, the third of these resorts, lies south of Edinburgh. Here Scott
carried Marmion for that superb view of Edinburgh, 'mine own romantic
town,' so well described in the poem:--.
Still on the spot Lord Marmion stayed,
For fairer scene he ne'er surveyed.
The scene is still a beautiful one, for though the plain that held the
Scottish camp is now filled with well-built suburban homes, we still
may see
Yon Empress of the North
Sit on her hilly throne,
Her palace's imperial bowers,
Her castle, proof to hostile powers,
Her stately halls and holy towers.
So great was Scott's love of the picturesque and especially of the old
feudal castles that he yearned to become a painter. But it was of no
use. His lessons came to naught and he could make no progress.
Perhaps this was fortunate, for, as Lockhart points out, success with
the pencil might have interfered with his future greatness {9} as a
'painter with the pen.' At fifteen, Scott entered upon an
apprenticeship to his father as a writer's (lawyer's) clerk, during
which period he formed an intimate companionship with a relative of his
friend Irving, William Clerk, a young man of good intellect and many
accomplishments. The experiences of these two young law students will
be found in 'Redgauntlet.' William Clerk was the Darsie Latimer of
that story, while Scott himself was Alan Fairford. Alan's precise and
dignified father, Mr. Saunders Fairford, whose highest hope in life was
to see his son attain 'the proudest of all distinctions--the rank and
fame of a well-employed lawyer,' was a fairly good portrait of Scott's
own father. The house in which the Fairfords lived was in Brown
Square, then considered 'an extremely elegant improvement.' It is
still standing, and is now used as a dental college. Old 'Peter
Peebles,' whose interminable lawsuit was used for young lawyers to
practise on, actually existed and haunted the law courts at this time.
Scott himself admits that he took his turn as 'counsel' to the
grotesque old litigant.
The Edinburgh of Scott's day was still chiefly confined to the Old
Town. High Street in those days was considered the most magnificent
street in the world. Again and again Scott refers to it. At one end
is the great Castle, old enough to remember the time when even the Old
Town did not exist. Lower down is St. Giles and the Parliament House.
Next to St. Giles is the site of the Old Tolbooth, which, after serving
the city as a prison for two hundred and fifty years, was pulled down
in 1817. In Writer's Court in the same locality was the tavern where
the lawyers held 'high {10} jinks' in 'Guy Mannering.' Greyfriars
Church, where Colonel Mannering heard a sermon by Scott's old friend,
the Rev. John Erskine, is not far off. Down the street, in the part
called the Canongate, is the house of the Earl of Murray, the Regent of
Scotland in Queen Mary's time, who figures prominently in 'The Abbot.'
Street fighting was a common occurrence in Edinburgh in those days and
there is a good description of such a broil in 'The Abbot.' 'My Lord
Seton's Lodging,' where Roland Graeme took refuge after a scrimmage, is
in the same street, and a little farther on is the 'White Horse Close,'
where the officers of Prince Charles made their headquarters in
'Waverley.' Holyrood Palace is at the extreme end of the street, about
a mile from the Castle. The great ball, which Scott describes in
'Waverley,' was given here by the young Chevalier, Charles Edward
Stuart, on the evening of September 17, 1745.
While still in his fifteenth year, Scott made his first excursion into
the Highlands of Perthshire through scenery unsurpassed in natural
beauty by any other region in all Scotland. Approaching from the
south, he rode over the mountains, through a pass no longer accessible,
known as the Wicks of Baiglie. Here 'he beheld, stretching beneath
him, the valley of the Tay, traversed by its ample and lordly stream;
the town of Perth, with its two large meadows, or Inches, its steeples
and its towers: the hills of Moncreiff and Kinnoul faintly rising into
picturesque rocks, partly clothed with woods; the rich margin of the
river, studded with elegant mansions; and the distant view of the huge
Grampian Mountains, the northern screen of this exquisite landscape.'
These words were written as part of the Introduction to the {11} 'Fair
Maid of Perth' in 1828. The impression they record was made upon the
mind of a boy of fifteen, forty-two years earlier. On this visit, no
doubt, he saw the original house of Simon Glover in Curfew Street, and
also the home of Hal o' the Wynd, not far away. Both houses still
remain, and the stories connected with them were of course current in
Scott's time.
During all the time that the scenes and the stories connected with this
and other excursions were making their impress upon the mind of Walter
Scott, it must be remembered that he was not thinking of any ultimate
use of them in literature, but was only ambitious to make a success of
his chosen profession of the law. It so happened that one of the
earliest duties which fell to his lot as a writer's apprentice was to
serve a writ upon a certain obstreperous family in the Braes of
Balquhidder, the country made famous by the exploits of Rob Roy.
Fearing that the execution of the summons would be resisted, an escort
of a sergeant and six men was procured, and Scott, a young man of
scarcely sixteen, marched into the Highlands, 'riding,' as he said, 'in
all the dignity of danger, with a front and rear guard, and loaded
arms.' The sergeant was full of good stories, principally about Rob
Roy, and proved to be a very good companion. This expedition was
Scott's first introduction to the scenery around Loch Katrine, which
later owed most of its fame to his pen. It enabled him, by actual
contact with the Highland clans, to learn for the first time some of
the thrilling tales with which the region abounded and to become
familiar with the habits, the speech, the dress, and all the other
marked characteristics of a romantic people. The delightful {12}
scenery of Loch Vennachar, Loch Achray, and Loch Katrine, the rugged
slopes of Ben Venue and Ben An, the more distant peaks of Ben Lomond
and Ben Ledi, the tangled masses of foliage in the 'deep Trossachs'
wildest nook,'--all appealed at once to the artistic sense within him,
to his poetic feeling, and to his love of nature. 'The Lady of the
Lake' was not written until twenty-three years later, but the germ of
that poem was planted in his bosom by this first youthful experience
and its writing was only a labor of love.
On his subsequent excursions to the Highlands, Scott gathered some
valuable material which later appeared in 'Waverley.' He found one old
gentleman who had been obliged to make a journey to the cave of Rob
Roy, where he dined on 'collops' or steaks, cut from his own cattle.
This cavern is on Loch Lomond in the midst of most beautiful scenery.
Scott makes it the retreat of Donald Bean Lean in 'Waverley,' but does
not refer to it in his story of 'Rob Roy.' From another aged gentleman
he heard the history of Doune Castle, a fine old ruin on the river
Teith, near Stirling, and this he also introduced into 'Waverley.' The
story of Waverley's saving the life of Colonel Talbot and the death at
Carlisle of Fergus MacIvor are based upon incidents related to Scott at
this time.
Among the many places visited was Craighall, in Perthshire, from which
some of the features of Tully Veolan were copied. The situation of
this country-seat was convenient for the story, and near by was a cave,
similar to that in which the Baron of Bradwardine sought concealment.
But there is another house, a little to the west, on the river Tay,
which is said to correspond {13} even more closely with Scott's
description. This is Grandtully Castle, the beautiful estate of the
Stewart family. Another house which entered into this composite
picture was the residence of the Earl of Traquair, a place on the
Scottish Border well known to Scott and frequently visited by him
during the time when he was writing 'Waverley.' It has a curious
entrance gate, surmounted by some queer-looking bears, which doubtless
suggested the Bears of Bradwardine.
These numerous excursions, however fruitful they may have proved in
later years, were not by any means the chief business of Scott's life
at this time. They were only vacation trips, except the first, which
seems to have had a business purpose. He was for the most part hard at
work in Edinburgh in the study of the law and in the duties of a
writer's apprentice, which meant copying by hand page after page of
legal documents, sometimes accomplishing as much as a hundred and
twenty pages in one day. In 1792, at the age of twenty-one, he
successfully passed the law examinations and was admitted to the Bar,
very much to his father's delight. The real Alan Fairford and Darsie
Latimer 'put on the gown' the same day, a solemn ceremony followed by a
jolly dinner to their companions.
Scott was now a fine, handsome young fellow with a host of friends.
The sickliness of childhood had given way to a robust and vigorous
manhood. His lameness still remained, but in spite of this he had
acquired the frame of a young athlete. He was tall, well formed,
big-chested, and powerful. His complexion was fresh and even
brilliant; his eyes were bright and twinkling with fun; there was a
queer little look about his lips as though {14} they were about to
break out into some funny remark--an expression that was the delight of
all his friends and the despair of portrait painters. Perhaps the most
striking feature of his face was the high forehead, bespeaking
intellectual power and dignity, yet in perfect consonance with his good
humour and affectionate kindliness. In every company of young people
he was easily the life and soul of the group. They crowded around him
to revel in his store of anecdotes and ballads à propos to every
occasion, and his jokes usually kept them in a gale of merriment. He
was fond of every kind of outdoor amusement, especially of fishing,
hunting, and riding. Few could excel him in horsemanship, either in
skill or endurance. From the days of his first Shetland pony he had
loved horses, and but for his ability to make long journeys on
horseback to remote regions at a time when there were no railways and
few coach-roads, he would have been unable to acquire the knowledge of
places and people which gave a peculiar charm to all his writings.
The day after his admission to the Bar, Scott 'escaped' to the country,
going first to Rosebank and then to Jedburgh, where he met Robert
Shortreed, a sheriff-substitute of Roxburghshire, who consented to
become his guide on a visit to the wild and inaccessible district of
Liddesdale. For seven successive years they made these 'raids' as
Scott called them, 'exploring every rivulet to its source and every
ruined peel from foundation to battlement.' 'There was no inn or
public-house of any kind in the whole valley; the travellers passed
from the shepherd's hut to the minister's manse, and again from the
cheerful hospitality of the manse to the {15} rough and jolly welcome
of the homestead; gathering, wherever they went, songs and tunes, and
occasionally more tangible relics of antiquity.' To his friendly
familiarity with these unsophisticated people and the intimate
knowledge thus acquired of their manner of living, we are indebted for
some of the most charming pages of 'Guy Mannering.' Whether the future
poet had any plan in his mind for using the material so gathered is
doubtful, though much of it went into the 'Minstrelsy of the Scottish
Border' and perhaps these raids suggested that undertaking.
In the summer vacation of 1797, Scott set out for a visit to the
English Lakes. He was accompanied by his brother John and Adam
Ferguson, an intimate friend through whom he had been introduced to the
highest literary circles of Edinburgh. Their first stop was at the
country home of Dr. Ferguson, the distinguished philosopher and
historian, and the father of Scott's friend. This was at Hallyards, in
the vale of Manor Water, near Peebles. The venerable old gentleman,
then in his seventy-third year, had become interested in one of the
strangest men, physically and mentally, who ever lived,--a poor,
ungainly, and hideous dwarf named David Ritchie. Dr. Ferguson
conducted his young friend to the rude hut of this horrible being, and
Scott, strong and fearless as he was, is said to have come away as pale
as ashes and shaking in every limb. This singular meeting resulted,
nineteen years later, in the story of 'The Black Dwarf,' where Scott
skilfully combined some good traits, which Ritchie was known to
possess, with the grotesque and terrifying external figure.
Proceeding to the English Lakes, Scott now saw for the {16} first time
the wild and rugged beauty of Saddleback and Skiddaw and the desolate
loneliness of Helvellyn, contrasting with the calm loveliness of
Grasmere and Windermere and with the sweet homeliness of the dalesmen's
cottages, their pastures and peaceful flocks. Like all other scenes of
beauty, it made its impression upon his mind. He found a home here for
Colonel Mannering; when Waverley was hard-pressed after the failure of
the insurrection of 1745, he found it convenient to make a home for his
hero with a farmer at Ullswater; and he marched his gallant Baron of
Triermain into 'the narrow Valley of St. John' in search of the
mysterious castle, as directed by the sage of Lyulph's tower. The
tower of Lyulph may be seen near the shores of Ullswater, and on the
side of a hill rising above St. John's Beck, a little stream flowing
out of Lake Thirlmere, is a huge rock now called 'Triermain Castle,'
which at a distance, under certain conditions of the atmosphere, bears
a fancied resemblance to the phantom castle of the poem.
Scott frequently showed his profound admiration for the English Lake
district, and if he did not love it with all the devotion of his friend
Wordsworth, it was only because his own beloved Highlands had a prior
claim upon his affections.
On a summer day soon after his return from the Lake District, in the
same year, Scott and his friend Adam Ferguson were riding together
along a country road near the pleasant little village of Gilsland, in
the north of England. The former was then twenty-six years of age. He
was a tall man of athletic frame, who rode as though incapable of
fatigue. There was a peculiar grace and charm in both face and figure,
which almost irresistibly {17} caused a passer-by to follow his first
glance with a second and longer scrutiny.
As they rode along, the two companions chanced to pass a young lady,
also on horseback, who immediately attracted their notice. Her form
was like that of a fairy, light and full of grace. Her long silken
tresses were jet black, her complexion a clear olive, and her eyes a
lovely brown, large, deep-set, and brilliant. Young and vivacious,
with a natural air of gaiety, she was both pleasant to meet and
charming to look upon.
At the ball which took place in the evening there was much rivalry
among the young men for the honour of dancing with this vision of
loveliness, who had blotted out all other thoughts from their morning
ride. To the tall young man fell the privilege of taking the fair
stranger to supper, and this was the introduction of Walter Scott to
Miss Charlotte Margaret Carpenter. The evening of September 30,
immediately following the ball, was one of the happiest Scott ever
knew. A friend records that he 'was _sair_ beside himself about Miss
Carpenter;--we toasted her twenty times over--and sat together, he
raving about her until it was one in the morning.'
This was not Scott's first love affair, but it was equally genuine.
Some four years previously he had chanced to meet at the Greyfriars
Church in Edinburgh, a very charming young lady of seventeen. As the
Sunday service closed, an unexpected shower came up. Scott had an
umbrella and the lady had none--sufficient reason for escorting the
fair one to her home. There was also sufficient reason for falling in
love with her, for Miss Williamina Stuart was not only beautiful in
face and {18} figure, but lovely in character. Highly educated,
accomplished in music and painting, well versed in literature, and with
the best family connections, she was still a sweet girl, of charming
manners and no affectation. For three years Scott cherished the most
ardent feelings of love, but in silence. He was then a young man of
small worldly prospects. He had written nothing and was unknown
outside the circle of friends in the law courts, where he was but a
beginner. This, however, would not have been an insurmountable
difficulty had the love been mutual. But the young lady had already
given her heart unreservedly to an intimate friend of Scott's, William
Forbes, a man of noble character. She gave Scott no encouragement, but
frequently, wrote him in a friendly way, chiefly concerning literary
topics. After many months of patient restraint, Scott finally wrote
her a frank and unreserved declaration of his feelings, and received in
reply a letter which filled him with many forebodings but with 'new
admiration of her generosity and candour.' She urged upon him the
continuation of their simple friendship as the 'prudent line of
conduct.' Unfortunately, Scott read between the lines, as too hopeful
persons sometimes do, sentiments which were not intended. The final
disappointment came in the autumn of 1796, and in the following January
Miss Stuart became the bride of Walter Scott's successful rival. It is
pleasant to think that the success of the one and the disappointment of
the other led to no bitterness. Both were men of noble and generous
minds. And in the days of Scott's adversity, when he was wearing away
his vitality in a desperate but honourable endeavour to pay his debts,
Sir William Forbes, though {19} his own bank was one of the heavy
losers in the disaster that overwhelmed Scott, came forward with offers
of assistance, and even went so far as to pay secretly a large and
pressing debt, that his friend Sir Walter might not be entirely crushed.
The poet never forgot the tender experiences of these years, and long
afterward drew a lovely picture of Williamina in 'Rokeby':--
Wreathed in its dark brown rings, her hair
Half hid Matilda's forehead fair,
Half hid and half revealed to view
Her full dark eye of hazel hue.
The rose, with faint and feeble streak,
So lightly tinged the maiden's cheek,
That you had said her hue was pale:
But if she faced the summer gale,
Or spoke, or sung, or quicker moved,
Or heard the praise of those she loved,
The mantling blood in ready play
Rivalled the blush of rising day.
But Walter Scott was a young man, and in his great big heart there was
still room for love. If he thought his heart was broken, he admitted
that it was 'handsomely pieced' again. Fascinated with the vivacity
and attractiveness of Miss Carpenter, Scott remained at Gilsland much
longer than he had intended. The lovers strolled through many
delightful paths--walks which left their impress upon the poet's mind
and gave him many backgrounds for his future verses and tales.
Miss Carpenter had rooms at a large hotel, known as Shaw's, where the
momentous ball was held, and Scott was at Wardrew House, a private
residence with a picturesque walled-in garden on the slope of a hill
not far away. We followed them in fancy as they descended {20} into
the glen which separates these two houses, where they might drink of
the mineral spring which gives a local fame to the place. Then like
the faithful page of the Baron of Triermain, no doubt they 'crossed
green Irthing's Mead' and wandering along the shady bank of this
pleasant stream, reached
the favourite glade,
Paled in by copsewood, cliff and stone,
Where never harsher sounds invade
To break affection's whispering tone
Than the deep breeze that waves the shade,
Than the small brooklet's feeble moan.
Then, turning a bend in the stream, perchance he invited her to
Come! rest thee on thy wonted seat;
Mossed is the stone, the turf is green,
A place where lovers best may meet
Who would not that their love be seen.
Here is the so-called 'Popping Stone,' where, local tradition asserts,
Scott asked the all-important question. Whether this is true or not
makes no difference. The question was asked and the stone is there.
Whatever virtue there may be in the stone, it is certain that thousands
of young couples have found their way thither, and they have literally
worn it away until now it is scarcely half its original size.
[Illustration: THE POPPING STONE]
A little farther west we came to the beautiful old ruins of Lanercost,
in which is the tomb of Thomas, Lord Dacre, to whom Marmion, with his
last dying gasp on the field of Flodden, sent a message with his signet
ring. Near by and entered through a beautiful park is the fine old
feudal castle of Naworth, the stronghold of the {21} Dacres and later
of the Howards, both of whom are mentioned in 'The Lay of the Last
Minstrel.'
The place which seems to have interested Scott the most in these
rambles was the old ruined wall of Triermain Castle. He saw more of it
than can be seen to-day, for a great part of it remained standing until
1832. But it was a ruin in the time of Queen Elizabeth. Scott's
imagination, however, soon rebuilt and repeopled it, and Sir Ronald de
Vaux became immortalized in 'The Bridal of Triermain,' though forgotten
in the pages of history. In almost the latest years of his life, the
novelist came back to these scenes of his early manhood for another
character whom he took from the same old castle of Triermain, the big
and burly, but always faithful, Sir Thomas de Multon of 'The Talisman.'
During the autumn of 1797, Scott was a frequent visitor to the city of
Carlisle, where Miss Carpenter was living in Castle Street. A few
steps beyond the site of her house is Carlisle Cathedral, the most
striking feature of which is the beautiful East Window, said to be the
finest in England. The cathedral was founded by Henry I in 1101.
During the Civil War it was occupied by soldiers, who pulled down
ninety-six feet of the nave to build fortifications. The portion that
remained, thirty-nine feet, was later enclosed and used as the parish
Church of St. Mary. Here, standing between two great Norman pillars of
red sandstone, on the day before Christmas, 1797, Walter Scott and
Charlotte Carpenter were married.
They went to live in Edinburgh, but during the following summer took up
their abode in a charming little cottage with a thatched roof and a
delightful garden on {22} the banks of the river Esk at Lasswade. It
was then a small house with only one room of fair size, though now very
much enlarged. The thatched portion, however, is carefully preserved.
Mrs. Scott's good taste and her husband's enthusiasm soon converted the
house and grounds into a veritable bower of delight. Unfortunately,
the rustic archway of ivy, which Scott took so much pleasure in
fashioning, has disappeared. But the vale of the Esk still remains, to
thrill the souls of the romantic. Not even in lovely Scotland is there
a river or glen to surpass it. Deep down between precipitous cliffs
and rocks, shaded by tall trees and overgrown by a bewildering
profusion of creeping plants and overhanging vines, the little river
flows merrily along, seeming to sparkle at every bend with some new
recollection of the romantic legends or fantastic tales of the barons
of old, who once peopled its ancient castles and drank their wine while
they listened to the rhythmic stories of the minstrel bards. Here six
happy summers were spent. Friends came down from Edinburgh and new
friendships were formed with important personages living in the villas
and castles of the vicinity. All found that Scott had formed a
connection with one who had the 'sterling qualities of a good wife,' to
quote Lockhart's phrase. The brothers of the _Mountain_--a group of
boon companions who were closely associated and very fond of each
other's society--welcomed Mrs. Scott with the greatest delight. A
married life of perfect serenity was inaugurated, which lasted until
the death of 'the ever faithful and true companion' in 1826.
In a confidential letter to Lady Abercorn, written in 1810, Scott
refers to his attempt, in the 'Lady of the {23} Lake,' to make 'a
knight of love who never broke a vow,' and mentions his own melancholy
experience of early days. He adds: 'Mrs. Scott's match and mine was
one of our own making, and proceeded from the most sincere affection on
both sides, which has rather increased than diminished during twelve
years' marriage. But it was something short of love in all its forms,
which I suspect people only _feel_ once in their lives; folks who have
been nearly drowned in bathing rarely venturing a second time out of
their depth.'
These words should not be misconstrued. Whatever the ardency of his
first love, the second was no less sincere and true. If the first was
the highly poetic type, the young dream of a peculiarly sensitive
nature, the second was the kind that enables young couples to meet in
peace and serenity all the varied problems of life, to establish their
housekeeping in mutual helpfulness, to laugh away their cares, as Scott
wrote to Miss Carpenter, or if the load is too heavy, to share it
between them, 'until it becomes almost as light as pleasure itself.' It
was in this spirit that the young people established their household
gods in the cottage at Lasswade.
To a man of Scott's disposition, happy in his new home life, with every
incentive to improve his opportunities, his mind steeped from infancy
in the rude ballads of the border country and his heart bounding with
delight at the beauties of nature, this new environment seemed all that
was needed to turn his whole thought to poetry.
Sweet are the paths, O passing sweet!
By Esk's fair streams that run
O'er airy steep through copsewood deep
Impervious to the sun.
{24}
There the rapt poet's step may rove,
And yield the muse the day;
There Beauty, led by timid Love
May shun the telltale ray.
No afternoon stroll could be more delightful than one through the
valley of the Esk as far as Roslin. Many go to Roslin by coach from
Edinburgh, but they fail to see the glen. Guided by a Scottish friend,
we found that the better way is to go to Hawthornden and walk through
the gardens and grounds of the ancient castle where the poet Drummond
lived and wrote to his heart's content of the beauties of the scene.
Here we saw the caves, cut out of the solid rock beneath the castle,
which sheltered Robert Bruce during the troublous times when Fortune
seemed to frown. Here, too, we stood under the sycamore tree where
Drummond welcomed Ben Jonson to his home. Descending the path to the
river, we crossed by a little wooden bridge, with a gate in the middle,
which can be opened only from the Hawthornden side. Then a walk, which
was half scramble, brought us finally to Roslin Castle, on a rock
peeping over the foliage, high above the river. Both Roslin and
Hawthornden are mentioned in 'The Lay of the Last Minstrel' in the
ballad of the lovely Rosabelle:--
O'er Roslin all that dreary night
A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam;
'T was broader than the watch-fire light,
And redder than the bright moonbeam.
It glared on Roslin's castled rock,
It ruddied all the copsewood glen;
'T was seen from Dreyden's groves of oak,
And seen from caverned Hawthornden.
{25}
[Illustration: LASSWADE COTTAGE]
The quiet of Lasswade gave Scott the opportunity for the compilation of
the 'Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border,' and its romantic beauty
furnished the inspiration for his first serious attempts to write new
ballads in imitation of the old ones. 'It was amidst these delicious
solitudes,' says Lockhart, 'that he produced the pieces which laid the
imperishable foundations of all his fame. It was here that when his
warm heart was beating with young and happy love, and his whole mind
and spirit were nerved with new motives for exertion--it was here in
the ripened glow of manhood he seems to have first felt something of
his real strength, and found himself out in those splendid original
ballads which were at once to fix his name.'
At this period Scott was a man of unusually robust health. In spite of
the lameness with which he had been afflicted from infancy, his powers
of endurance were very great. He could walk thirty miles a day or ride
one hundred without resting. He was quartermaster of the Edinburgh
Volunteers and had a great reputation as a skilful horseman. 'He had a
remarkably firm seat on horseback,' said Mr. Skene, 'and in all
situations a fearless one: no fatigue ever seemed too much for him, and
his zeal and animation served to sustain the enthusiasm of the whole
corps.' His companions called him 'Earl Walter,' and whenever there
came, at drills, a moment of rest, all turned intuitively to the
quartermaster, whose ever ready fun never failed to lighten the burdens
of the day. It was really this remarkable gift of good companionship,
coupled with his fondness for horses and unusual powers of endurance,
that enabled Scott to gather the materials for his poems.
{26}
'Eh me,' said Shortreed, his companion and guide in the Liddesdale
raids, 'sic an endless fund o' humour and drollery as he then had wi'
him! Never ten yards but we were either laughing or roaring or
singing. Wherever we stopped, how brawlie he suited himsel' to
everybody! He aye did as the lave did; never made himsel' the great
man, or took ony airs in the company.' It was literally true, as he
said, that he 'had a home in every farmhouse.'
To his rare good fellowship and his powers of endurance, Scott added
one other quality without which his vigorous search for literary
material might have been of little use, namely, a most extraordinary
memory, which enabled him to retain what he had heard and use it many
years afterward. James Hogg, the eccentric Ettrick shepherd, gives a
fine instance of this power. One night Scott, with his friends, Hogg
and Skene, was out on a fishing expedition. 'While we three sat down
on the brink of a river,' says Hogg, 'Scott desired me to sing them my
ballad of Gilman's Cleugh. Now be it remembered that this ballad had
never been printed: I had merely composed it by rote, and, on finishing
it three years before, had sung it over once to Sir Walter. I began
it, at his request, but at the eighth or ninth stanza I stuck in it and
could not get on with another verse, on which he began it again and
recited it every word from beginning to end. It being a very long
ballad, consisting of eighty-eight stanzas, I testified my
astonishment, knowing that he had never heard it but once, and even
then did not appear to be paying particular attention. He said he had
been out with a pleasure party as far as the opening of the Firth of
Forth, and, {27} to amuse the company, he had recited both that ballad
and one of Southey's ("The Abbot of Aberbrothock"), both of which
ballads he had only heard once from their respective authors, and he
believed he recited them both without misplacing a word.'
Living in a country where new beauty appears at every turn in the road
and romance is echoed from every hillside, happy in his domestic
relations, blessed with the faculty of making friends wherever he went,
whether among farmers and shepherds or lords and ladies, active in
travelling into every nook or corner where material could be found,
keen to appreciate a good story or a pleasing ballad, and able to
remember all he ever heard or read, Walter Scott became a poet as
easily and naturally as the rippling waters of his beloved Tweed find
their way to the sea.
{28}