THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR
Ralph Waldo Emerson, who frequently showed his familiarity with the
Waverley Novels, regarded 'The Bride of Lammermoor' as Scott's highest
achievement. He declared that it 'almost goes back to Æschylus for a
counterpart, as a painting of Fate--leaving on every reader the
impression of the highest and purest tragedy.' The dramatic close of
the story is based upon a calamity which marred the private life of
James Dalrymple, the first Lord Stair, a great lawyer, legal writer,
and judge, who was the ancestor of a long line of distinguished
advocates, judges, and public men.
This gentleman was born in Ayrshire in 1619. He was carefully
educated, and when a young man lectured in the University of Glasgow on
mathematics, logic, ethics, and politics. At twenty-nine he began the
practice of law at Edinburgh, winning great fame in his profession,
because of extensive legal attainments. His great work on 'The
Institutions of the Law of Scotland' is still held in high esteem by
Scottish lawyers, although the feudal law which it elucidated has
become antiquated. It is considered, however, that something of its
spirit still survives. He became a judge, was appointed President of
the Court of Session, served as a member of the Scottish Parliament,
and took a prominent part in various political and diplomatic
undertakings. Unfortunately incurring the enmity of the Duke of York,
he {216} lost his influence at court and was deprived of office.
Fearing prosecution for treason, he retired to Holland, returning,
however, a year later in the suite of William of Orange. He lived to
the age of seventy-six, his latest years saddened by the bitter attacks
of his enemies. This is the man whom Scott introduces as Sir William
Ashton, though without meaning to impute to Lord Stair the tricky and
mean-spirited qualities of the fictitious character.
James Dalrymple was married in 1644 to Margaret Ross, the heiress of a
large estate in Galloway. She was a woman of great ability and strong
character, who seems to have exerted a powerful influence in promoting
her husband's prosperity and political ambition. She shared his
fortunes, whether good or bad, for nearly half a century, always
exerting an imperious will, which even he did not dare to contradict,
but ever faithful in advancing his interests. Following her husband's
downfall, when the number of his enemies had greatly increased and his
life was in danger, Lady Stair was accused of attending conventicles
and of harbouring 'silenced preachers' in her house. Others went
farther and accused her of witchcraft, maintaining that the great
prosperity of her family was attributable solely to the lady's
partnership with His Satanic Majesty. Whatever may have been the
slanders directed against her good name, the Lady Stair of history was
clearly the prototype of Lady Ashton.
The lord and lady of real life had a daughter Janet, who was betrothed,
without the consent of her parents, to Lord Rutherford. Lady Stair's
will asserted itself in opposition, and without consideration of her
daughter's {217} feelings, the mother proceeded to annul the
engagement, notifying the lover that his fiancée had retracted her
unlawful vow. After a stormy interview, in which Lord Rutherford
argued his case with the determined mother in the presence of the
younger woman, the latter, who had feebly remained silent and
motionless, at last obeyed with sad reluctance her mother's command and
gave back to her lover the half of a broken coin, which had been the
symbol of their mutual pledge. In a burst of passion Lord Rutherford
left the room and soon after went abroad never to return.
The marriage desired by Lady Stair now took place, the bridegroom being
David Dunbar, the heir of an estate in Wigtownshire, the lady's native
county. On the night of the wedding some tragic event took place which
resulted in the death of Janet two weeks later. Either the bride
stabbed the husband or the husband stabbed the bride. The family seem
to have thrown a veil of secrecy over the whole affair and the exact
truth was never positively known. According to one account, when the
door of the chamber was opened, the young bridegroom lay upon the floor
badly wounded, while the wife was found in a state of frenzy, screaming
as the door opened, 'Tak' up your bonnie bridegroom.' Another story is
that the mother, inspired by Satan, attempted the murder, the marriage
having been contracted against her will, and that the bridegroom went
crazy. A third rendition is that the disappointed lover concealed
himself in the apartment and committed the crime.
Scott adopts the most plausible view, namely, that the young lady,
forced to marry against her will, simply lost her reason and in a mad
delirium assaulted her {218} husband. That young gentleman recovered
from his wounds. Thirteen years later, he was killed by a fall from
his horse, a catastrophe which the novelist transfers to the
disappointed suitor.
The scenery of the drama which led to such a tragic event is placed by
the author in the Lammermuir Hills, a stretch of mountainous country
lying along the borders of Haddington and Berwick, in the southeastern
corner of Scotland. At the extreme eastern limits of this elevated
section, the land drops abruptly into the North Sea, forming a line of
precipitous cliffs, rising three or four hundred feet above the ocean.
To gain some idea of the character of the region, we drove as far as
the motor-car could carry us and came to a stop at the end of the road
on the northern edge of the village of Northfield. A long walk,
leading at first through an open field in which cattle were grazing,
then along a narrow path by a brook, where numerous sheep were
pasturing, thence by a winding road to the summit of a hill, brought me
at last to the lighthouse of St. Abbs Head. Vast masses of rocks rise
directly out of the ocean to enormous heights and stretch along the
coast as far as the eye can see. Except for the lighthouse, there was
no sign of life save the sea-fowl, which flew wildly in every
direction, screaming in one incessant chorus of shrill complaint. A
lowering sky added to the weird loneliness of the scene. I was gone so
long that my wife, who wisely remained in the car, began to feel
certain that I had tumbled over the rocks into the sea, and busied
herself for an hour in unpleasant thoughts of how she should manage to
get my remains home. But after nearly two hours, the remains came
walking back without even the {219} excitement of being chased by a
wild bull. Thus do most of our worries melt away if we give them time
enough.
Somewhere on this rugged shore was the castle of Wolf's Crag, the last
remnant of the property of the Master of Ravenswood and the scene of
Caleb Balderstone's wonderful expedients to maintain the honour of his
house. Caleb, by the way, who would make a first-class performer in a
farce comedy, and who served a useful purpose in relieving the strain
of a sombre narrative, was not without a prototype in real life. His
exploit in carrying off the roast goose and the brace of wild ducks
from the kitchen of the cooper, to make a dinner for his master's
guests, was based upon a story told to Scott by a nobleman of his
acquaintance. A certain gentleman in reduced circumstances had a
servant named John, whose resourcefulness was much like Caleb's. A
party of four or five friends once sought to surprise this gentleman by
unexpectedly presenting themselves for dinner, suspecting there would
be no provision in the house for such an entertainment. But promptly
as the village clock struck the hour for the noonday meal, John placed
on the table 'a stately rump of boiled beef, with a proper
accompaniment of greens, amply sufficient to dine the whole party.' He
had simply appropriated the 'kail-pot' of a neighbour, leaving the
latter and his friends to dine on bread and cheese, which, John said,
was 'good enough for them.'
Caleb's trick of magniloquently referring to scores of imaginary
servants and detailing the particulars of fictitious banquets, all to
maintain the honour of the house, had a parallel in the antics of a
Scotch innkeeper of the Border country, who, on the arrival of a person
of {220} importance, would call Hostler No. 10 down from Hayloft No. 15
to conduct the gentleman's horse to one of the best stalls in Stable
No. 20, and do it in such an eloquent style as to convey the impression
of accommodations on a scale of magnificent proportions.[1] Wolf's
Crag, according to the novel, is between St. Abbs Head and the village
of Eyemouth. There is no such castle on that part of the coast, but in
the opposite direction, only a few miles from St. Abbs Head, on a high
rock overlooking the sea, is Fast Castle, which answers very well to
the description. This much Scott himself acknowledged, but in his
usual cautious way, asserting that he never saw the castle except from
the sea.[2] An interesting painting of Fast Castle, presented to Sir
Walter by the artist, the Rev. John Thomson of Duddingston, adorns the
drawing-room at Abbotsford.
Viewed from the sea, Fast Castle is more like the nest of some gigantic
Roc or Condor, than a dwelling for human beings; being so completely
allied in colour and rugged appearance with the huge cliffs, amongst
which it seems to be jammed, that it is difficult to discover what is
rock and what is building. To the land side the only access is by a
rocky path of a very few feet wide, bordered on either hand by a
tremendous precipice. This leads to the castle, a donjon tower of
moderate size, surrounded by flanking walls, as usual, which, rising
without interval and abruptly from the verge of the precipice must in
ancient times have rendered the place nearly impregnable.[3]
{221} Fast Castle gained some notoriety from the attempt, in 1600, of
an infamous character, Logan of Restalrig, in conspiracy with the Earl
of Gowrie and his brother, to kidnap King James VI, the intent being to
imprison him there, and to collect their reward from Queen Elizabeth.
Fortunately for James, the plot failed.
The original of Ravenswood Castle is uncertain. Constable, who
published a volume of 'illustrations to the Waverley Novels' in 1821,
two years after the appearance of 'The Bride of Lammermoor' included an
engraving of Crichton Castle, with a quotation referring to Ravenswood:
'on the gorge of a pass or mountain glen, ascending from the fertile
plains of East Lothian, there stood in former times an extensive
castle, of which only the ruins are now visible.' Crichton is at the
western extremity of the high country of which the Lammermuir Hills
constitute the greatest portion. Scott's fondness for it is well
known, as readers of 'Marmion' will remember. Others have supposed
Wintoun House, a fine old mansion farther to the north, to have been
the original. Scott could hardly have had this in mind, however, for
he distinctly refers to the place as now in ruins. Bearing in mind
that Scott paid little attention to geographical requirements, it seems
probable that he really referred to the ruins of Crichton. This is
further confirmed by the fact that the picture to which I have referred
was painted by Alexander Nasmyth, who was a friend of Scott's and the
father-in-law of the author's frequent correspondent, Daniel Terry. If
Crichton Castle is Ravenswood, the Crichton Kirk may be considered as
the place where the wedding of Lucy Ashton and Bucklaw took place. It
is a curious-shaped building, with {222} square tower and walls, partly
covered with ivy, standing in the midst of a well-kept churchyard.
The novel opens with the dramatic burial-scene of the father of the
young Master of Ravenswood. The chapel where this took place may be
supposed to be Coldingham Priory, the oldest nunnery in Scotland, a
quaint little structure, partly in ruins, but partly used for religious
worship. In the chapter on 'Marmion' I have already referred to this
chapel as the place where the body of a nun was found immured in the
walls.
The village of Eyemouth, a quaint old fishing settlement at the mouth
of the river Eye, will serve as an 'original' of Wolf's Hope. On the
links or sand knolls, north of here, were the quicksands called the
'Kelpie's Flow.' While in the village I made diligent inquiries, but
could get no information except from one man, who thought that the
sandy beach of Coldingham Bay might be the locality which Scott meant,
but he had never heard of the quicksands, and said if any had ever
existed in the vicinity they must have disappeared long since.
[Illustration: CRICHTON CASTLE]
It will be remembered that the Kelpie's Flow was the culminating scene
of the tragedy. The prophecies of Thomas the Rhymer, so Scott would
have us believe, were always fulfilled, and one of them was hanging
over the head of the Master of Ravenswood, to the great trepidation of
the faithful Caleb. The lines were these:--
When the last Laird of Ravenswood to Ravenswood shall ride,
And woo a dead maiden to be his bride,
He shall stable his steed in the Kelpie's flow
And his name shall be lost for evermoe.
{223} After the tragedy in the Castle, young Ravenswood rode out to
meet the bride's brother, Colonel Ashton, to fight a duel on the sands
of Wolf's Hope. In the agitated state of his mind, he neglected the
precaution of keeping on the firm sands near the rocks, and took a
shorter and more dangerous course. Horse and man disappeared in the
deadly quicksands, and thus was the prophecy fulfilled. Only a large
sable feather was found as a sign of the young man's dreadful fate.
Old Caleb took it up, dried it, and put it in his bosom. Thus ended
the tale which Lockhart considered 'the most pure and powerful of all
the tragedies that Scott ever penned.'
[1] From Robert Chambers's _Illustrations of the Author of Waverley_.
[2] In a note to the introduction to the _Chronicles of the Canongate_,
Scott says, 'I would particularly intimate the Kaim of Uric, on the
eastern coast of Scotland, as having suggested an idea for the tower
called Wolf's Crag, which the public more generally identified with the
ancient tower of Fast Castle.'
[3] From _Provincial Antiquities of Scotland_.
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