Title: The Centenary Garland - Being Pictorial Illustrations of the Novels of Sir Walter Scott
Author: Anonymous
Language: English
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THE CENTENARY GARLAND

Being Pictorial Illustrations Of The Novels Of Sir Walter Scott,

In Their Order Of Publication.

By George Cruikshank, and Other Artists of Eminence.

With Descriptions, Memoir, Etc.

Edinburgh:

William P. Nimmo.

1871.


               Who comes, alone, with soul of fire,
               And in his hand the Border lyre?
               He sweeps the strings, and in his strain
               Old times and manners live again;
               'Tis Scott! great Master of his art,
               He fires, subdues, or storms the heart!
               Rapt by the magic of his rhymes,
               I seem to live in feudal times;
               I hear the swelling bugle's call,
               And see the warder on the wall;
               And many a squire, and many a knight,
               In mail and gloves of steel bedight,
               Impatient for the fiery fight.

               Captain Charles Gray.

               The land was charm'd to list his lays;
               It knew the harp of ancient days.
               The Border chiefs, that long had been
               In sepulchres unhearsed and green,
               Passed f rom their mouldy vaults away,
               In armour red and stern array,
               And by their moonlight halls were seen,
               In visor helm, and habergean.
               Even fairies sought our land again,
               So powerful was the magic strain.

               The Ettrick Shepherd.

[Illustration: 009]

[Illustration: 006]

[Illustration: 011]

PREFATORY NOTE,

BY THE EDITOR.

THE enthusiasm with which Scotsmen and others have hailed the proposal
to celebrate in public demonstration the Centenary of Sir Walter Scott's
birth, has suggested the publication of this little work. The Memoir
includes some interesting particulars omitted by preceding biographers;
while a history of the Scott Monument at Edinburgh has been prepared
from original materials. The illustrations are printed on stone by
Messrs Schenck & M'Farlane, from steel plates by artists of eminence.
The spirited etchings by Mr George Cruikshank will be especially
welcomed by the numerous admirers of that distinguished artist. It has
been the Editor's aim to produce a souvenir worthy of the occasion, and
he is inclined to believe that his intentions have been in some measure
realised.

CHARLES ROGERS.

Snowdoun Villa,

Lewisham, Kent,

June 1871.



MEMOIR.

[Illustration: 014]

ON the 15th of August 1771, at Edinburgh, it is believed, Sir Walter
Scott was born, but his birth does not seem to have been entered in
any Register. The _Scots Magazine_ recorded only births in families
of distinction, and Edinburgh newspapers had not yet begun to notify
domestic changes. The Kirk-session Registers of the capital were indeed
well kept, but parents who claimed for their children baptism in the
Established Church were those only who systematically enrolled the names
of their offspring in the Presbyterian Records. The father of the
great novelist, Walter Scott, Writer to the Signet, was a member of
the Scottish Episcopal Church, in which, doubtless, his children were
baptized. He therefore ignored the Presbyterian registers; yet it is
sufficiently singular that, albeit a man of business of good capacity,
he was not careful to secure elsewhere a record of his children's
births.

Sir Walter was born in a house which has long ago disappeared; it stood
at the head of the College Wynd, and was removed to make room for the
northern front of the University buildings. On his father's side he
was descended from the Scotts of Harden, the elder branch of the great
Border sept of that name. In his personal aspects he much resembled
his paternal ancestry, his features being of the Saxon type, rugged,
massive, heavy,-almost stolid. Through his paternal grandmother, he
traced an old lineage in the Haliburtons of Newmains, a considerable
family of Berwickshire landowners. Of the Haliburtons he printed for
family use a volume of "Memorials," and he rejoiced, through his descent
from that sept, to possess a right of sepulture in Dryburgh Abbey.
On his mother's side, his progenitors were likewise respectable; his
maternal grandfather, Dr John Rutherford, was Professor of the Practice
of Physic in Edinburgh University, and his mother's brother, Dr Daniel
Rutherford, an eminent chemist, occupied the Chair of Botany. His mother
possessed a vigorous intellect, which she had successfully cultivated.
Of a family of twelve, six of whom survived infancy, Walter alone
evinced the possession of genius. Born a healthy child, he became
exposed to serious peril by being intrusted to a consumptive nurse. When
under two years old, he was seized with an illness which impaired the
use of his right limb, a misfortune which continued during his life.
With the view of restoring his strength, he was placed with his paternal
grandfather, Robert Scott, who rented the farm of Sandyknowe, near
Smailholm Tower, Roxburghshire. At Sandyknowe, he narrowly escaped
destruction through the violence of a servant who had become insane;
but he had afterwards to congratulate himself on having formed an early
acquaintance with rural scenes. No advantage arising to his lameness,
he was, in his fourth year, removed to Bath, where he remained some
time without experiencing benefit from the thermal waters. The three
following years were chiefly spent at Sandyknowe. In his eighth year he
returned to Edinburgh, with his mind largely stored with Border legends
derived from his grandmother, a person of romantic humour and sprightly
intelligence. At this period, Pope's translation of Homer, and the songs
of Ramsay's "Evergreen," were his favourite studies; he took delight
in reading aloud the more striking passages. In 1779 he was sent to
the High School, where he had the advantage of being taught by Mr Luke
Fraser, an able scholar, and Dr Adam, the erudite Rector. His scholastic
progress was not equal to his talents; he was devoted to romance, and
experienced greater pleasure in a country ramble, than in giving due
attention to the business of the class-room. As he became older, his
love of miscellaneous literature amounted to a passion; and as his
memory was singularly retentive, he accumulated a store of knowledge.

On the completion of his High School attendances, he was sent to reside
with relatives at Kelso; and in this interesting locality his early
attachment to legendary lore experienced a revival. Returning to
Edinburgh, he, in October 1783, entered the University. Here his
progress was even less marked than it had been at school. Mr Dalzell,
the Professor of Greek, spoke of his hopeless incapacity. The Professor
survived to make reparation for prophesying so rashly.

The aspirations of the future poet turned to a military life; but
his lameness interposed a barrier. At length he adopted a profession
suitable to his physical capabilities; in his fourteenth year he entered
into indentures with his father.

To confinement at the desk, irksome to one of his peculiar tastes, he
was reconciled by the consideration that his fees enabled him to add to
his library.

Rapid growth in a constitution which continued delicate till his
fifteenth year, led to his bursting a blood-vessel. While precluded from
active duty, being closely confined to his bed, and not allowed to exert
himself by speaking, he was yet permitted to read, a privilege of which
he largely availed himself. To complete his recovery, he was recommended
exercise on horseback; and in obeying his physician, he gratified his
own inclinations by visiting localities famous in history or tradition.
When his health was restored, he engaged in the study of law, which he
did seriously. After passing the requisite examinations, he was on the
10th July 1792, called to the Bar. At the age of twelve he had composed
some verses for his preceptor, Dr Adam; but he seems in early life to
have written little poetry, while his prose compositions lacked force
of thought and ease of diction. As an advocate his manner was not very
attractive, and both suitors and their agents had obtained the notion,
not quite unfounded, that the young barrister was more inclined to
literary than legal pursuits. Scott was not unconscious of the popular
judgment, and began to dream of independence in other spheres. He
thought of marriage. He courted unsuccessfully Miss Williamina Stuart,
whose mother had been his own mother's early friend, and who was
personally an heiress. She refused him, and with a heart stung
by disappointment, and ready to seek relief on the first fitting
opportunity, he at the rising of the Court in July 1797, joined a little
party of friends in a tour to Cumberland. Not long after, a charming
brunette at Gilsland Spa arrested his fancy and stole his affection. She
was an attractive young Frenchwoman, a ward of Lord Downshire, and under
the temporary protection of a respected English clergyman. After a
short acquaintance Scott proposed and was accepted. He was married in St
Mary's Church, Carlisle, on the 24th December 1797. With less haste he
might have married more advantageously. As it was, he was now free from
any apprehension about the means of living, for his wife, Charlotte
Charpentier, possessed an annuity of £200. His own finances were
materially increased in 1800, when he became Sheriff of Selkirkshire,
with a salary of £300.

While in his father's office Scott had studied French and Italian, and
made himself familiar with the writings of Tasso and Ariosto. Afterwards
he obtained an acquaintance with German ballad poetry, through the
translations of Mr Lewis. In 1796, he made his _début_ as an author, by
publishing translations of "Lenoré" and "The Wild Huntsman" of Bürger.
The attempt was unsuccessful. A second time he essayed his skill as a
translator, by publishing in 1799, an English version of Goethe's "Goetz
of Berlichingen." It was better received, but his fame was destined to
rest on a more substantial basis than on the art of translation.

The ballads and songs of the south of Scotland, preserved among the
peasantry, had at an early period occupied his attention. He now made
excursions to Liddesdale in quest of these interesting remains; and the
fruits of his research, along with much curious information, he gave to
the world in 1802, in two octavo volumes, entitled "Minstrelsy of the
Scottish Border."' He afterwards added a third volume, consisting of
imitations of ancient ballads, composed by himself and others. These
volumes were issued from the printing press of his early friend, James
Ballantyne of Kelso, who had already begun to indicate his skill as a
typographer.

In 1804, he published from the Auchinleck Manuscript, the ancient
metrical tale of "Sir Tristrem." In an introduction, he endeavoured to
show that it was composed by Thomas of Ercildoune, better known as _the
Rhymer._ "The Lay of the Last Minstrel," a ballad poem, appeared from
his pen in 1805, and obtaining an extensive circulation, procured for
him poetical fame and an immediate profit of £600.

Scott's prosperity rose with his reputation. In 1806 he was appointed
a principal clerk in the Court of Session, an office which afterwards
yielded him £1200 per annum. To literary work he henceforth dedicated
the intervals of leisure. In 1808 he produced "Marmion," his second
great poem, which brought him £1000, and materially increased his fame.
During the same year he edited the works of Dryden, in eighteen volumes.
In 1809 he edited the "State Papers and Letters of Sir Ralph Sadler,"
and became a contributor to the "Edinburgh Annual Register," conducted
by Southey. "The Lady of the Lake," the most happily-conceived of his
poetical works, appeared in 1810; "Don Roderick," in 1811; "Rokeby," in
1813; and "The Lord of the Isles," in 1814. "Harold the Dauntless," and
"The Bridal of Triermain," appeared subsequently.

After the publication of "Marmion," Mr Alexander Gibson Hunter of
Blackness, partner in the publishing house of Constable & Co., a
gentleman of superior culture, entreated the author to dedicate his
talents to prose fiction, with the prediction that he would in this
department attain an eminence unrivalled in literature.* Scott did not
readily accept the proffered counsel; he dreaded that by sailing in
unexplored waters he might make shipwreck of his poetical laurels. A
prose tale which he had commenced in 1805, was on this account laid
aside; and when it was again taken up and completed, and under the title
of "Waverley" given to the world, it was without the authors name.
This was in 1814, when Sir Walter was in his 43rd year. "Waverley"
sold slowly at first, but after some favourable criticisms the
demand steadily increased till twelve thousand copies were put into
circulation. Having attained such an earnest of success as a writer
of fiction, he chose in this department to maintain his original
_incognito_, abundantly content to rest his personal distinction on his
celebrity as a poet. The author of "Waverley" accordingly soon passed
into "The Great Unknown;" and the rapidity with which this mysterious
character produced a succession of entertaining romances became one of
the marvels of the age; while attempts to withdraw the curtain which
concealed his individuality proved comparatively unavailing. Each year
gave birth to one-often two-novels, of a class infinitely superior to
the romances of the past age, and all having reference to the manners
and customs of the most interesting and chivalrous periods of Scottish
or British history. Subsequent to the publication of "Guy Mannering" and
"The Antiquary," in 1815 and 1816, and as an expedient to sustain public
interest, a series of novels was commenced, under the title of "Tales of
my Landlord," these being professedly written by a different author;
but this resort was afterwards abandoned. Every romance by the author
of "Waverley" awakened renewed enthusiasm, and commanded a universal
circulation throughout Britain and America. In 1814 Scott published
an edition of Swift's works in nineteen octavo volumes. For some years
after his marriage he occupied a cottage at Lasswade; in 1804 he
removed to Ashestiel, a mansion situated on the banks of the Tweed, near
Innerleithen, where for several years he continued to reside during
the vacation of the Court. His ruling desire was, to acquire an
ample demesne, and thus to realise in his own person, and by his
representatives, somewhat of the territorial importance of those old
barons, whose wassails and feuds he delighted to celebrate. To attain
such a distinction he was prepared to incur many sacrifices; nor
in comparison did he value the highest literary honours. In 1811 he
purchased, on the south bank of the Tweed, near Melrose, the little farm
of _Clarty Hole_, the first portion of that estate which under the name
of Abbotsford has become indelibly associated with his name. The soil
was wet and unpromising, but by a course of agricultural appliances the
place began to display considerable amenities. The mansion, a curious
amalgamation of different styles of Scottish manorial architecture,
was partly built in 1811, and gradually extended with the increasing
emoluments of the owner. By successive purchases the Abbotsford property
was increased till the rental amounted to about £700 a year, a return
not too great for an expenditure of at least £50,000.

     * See Letter from Archibald Constable to Mr Hunter's son,
     David Hunter, Esq., now of Blackness, dated "Edinburgh, 26th
     March 1825: Century of Scottish Life, Edinb. 1871, pp. 82,
     83." Mr A. G. Hunter of Blackness died on the 9th March
     1812, aged forty-one. His remains were interred in the
     Greyfriars Churchyard.

At Abbotsford Scott maintained the character of a country gentleman. He
was visited by distinguished persons from the sister kingdom, from the
Continent, and from America, all of whom he elegantly entertained.
Nor did his constant intercourse with his visitors interfere with the
regular prosecution of his literary labours: he rose at six, and engaged
in composition till breakfast, and afterwards till one o'clock. While in
the country he devoted the rest of the day to exercise on horseback, the
superintendence of improvements on his estate, and the entertainment of
his guests. In March 1820, George IV., to whom he was personally known,
and who was a warm admirer of his genius, created him a baronet, the
first titular honour which he bestowed after his accession. Besides the
works enumerated, he had already given to the world his romances of "The
Black Dwarf," "Old Mortality," "Rob Roy," "The Heart of Midlothian,"
"The Bride of Lammermoor," "A Legend of Montrose," and "Ivanhoe." The
attainment of the baronetcy stimulated him to increased literary ardour.
"Ivanhoe" appeared early in 1820, and during the same year he produced
"The Monastery" and "The Abbot;" and in the beginning of 1821, the
romance of "Kenilworth," being twelve volumes within twelve months. "The
Pirate" and "The Fortunes of Nigel" appeared in 1822; "Peveril of the
Peak" and "Quentin Durward" in 1823; "St Ronan's Well" and "Redgauntlet"
in 1824; and the "Tales of the Crusaders" in 1825.

During the royal visit to Scotland in 1822, Sir Walter was, by general
consent, constituted Master of Ceremonies, and the duties he discharged
to the entire satisfaction of his sovereign and of the nation. But while
prosperity seemed to smile upon him with increasing lustre, adversity
hovered near. In 1826, Archibald Constable & Company, the publishers of
his works, became insolvent, involving in their bankruptcy the printing
firm of the Messrs Ballantyne, of which he was a partner. For the sum of
£120,000, Sir Walter was found to be individually responsible. On a
mind less securely balanced, the wrecked hopes of a lifetime would have
produced irretrievable despondency; but Sir Walter bore his misfortune
with magnanimous resignation. To both the establishments which had
involved him in their fall, he had been largely indebted, and he felt
bound in honour, not less than by legal obligation, fully to discharge
his debt. An offer by the creditors to accept a composition he
declined, and claiming only to be allowed time, applied himself to his
undertaking, with the full determination, if his life was spared, to
cancel every obligation. At the crisis of his embarrassments, he
was engaged in the composition of "Woodstock," which soon afterwards
appeared. The "Life of Napoleon," which had for a considerable time
occupied his attention, was published in 1827, in nine octavo volumes.
In the course of preparing it, he visited London and Paris in search of
materials. In the same year he produced "Chronicles of the Canongate,"
first series; and in the year following, the second series of those
charming tales, and the first portion of his "Tales of a Grandfather." A
second portion of these latter tales appeared in 1829, and the third
and concluding series in 1830, when he also contributed a "History of
Scotland," in two volumes, to "Lardner's Cyclopedia." In 1829 likewise
appeared "Anne of Geierstein," and in 1830 the "Letters on Demonology
and Witchcraft." In 1831 he produced a series of "Tales on French
History," uniform with the "Tales of a Grandfather," and his novels
"Count Robert of Paris," and "Castle Dangerous," as a fourth series of
"Tales of my Landlord." Other productions of less importance appeared
from his pen: he contributed to the _Edinburgh Review_, during the first
year of its existence; wrote the articles "Chivalry," "Romance," and
"Drama," for the sixth edition of the "Encyclopaedia Britannica;" and
during his latter years frequently contributed to the _Quarterly
Review_.

At a public dinner in Edinburgh, for the benefit of the Theatrical Fund,
on the 23d of February 1827, Sir Walter first publicly avowed himself
author of the Waverley Novels-an announcement which scarcely took the
public by surprise. His physical energies were now suffering a rapid
decline, and in his increasing infirmities, and liability to sudden and
severe attacks of pain, and even of unconsciousness, it became evident
to his friends that in the praiseworthy effort to liquidate his
obligations he was sacrificing his health. Those apprehensions proved
not without foundation. In the autumn of 1831, his health became so
lamentably broken, that his medical advisers recommended a residence
in Italy, and entire cessation from mental labour, as the only means
of restoring his energies. This counsel came too late; the patient
proceeded to Naples, and afterwards to Rome, but experiencing no benefit
from the change, he was rapidly conveyed home in the following summer,
in obedience to his own express wish, that he might close his eyes at
Abbotsford. The wish was gratified; he arrived at Abbotsford on the 11th
of July 1832, and survived till the 21st of the ensuing September. As
he had desired, his remains were interred in an aisle of Dryburgh Abbey,
which had belonged to his ancestors, and had been specially granted him
by the Earl of Buchan. A massive block of marble rests upon the grave,
in juxtaposition with another which has been laid on that of Lady Scott,
who died in May 1826.

In stature, Sir Walter Scott was above six feet; but his form which had
otherwise been commanding, was marred by the lameness of his right
limb, which caused him considerably to limp, and ultimately to walk with
difficulty. His countenance, so correctly represented in his portraits
and busts, was remarkable for depth of forehead; his features have been
described. His eyes, covered with thick eyelashes, were dull, unless
animated by congenial conversation. He was of a fair complexion; and
his hair, originally sandy, became grey after a severe illness which
he suffered in his forty-eighth year. His conversation abounded in
anecdotes of the old times. His memory treasured up accurately, and
could readily recall, all that he had read. In fertility of invention he
surpassed all his contemporaries. As a poet, if he does not possess the
graceful elegance of Campbell and the fervid energy of Byron, he
excels the latter in purity of sentiment, and the former in vigour of
conception. His style was well adapted for the composition of lyric
poetry; but as he had no ear for music, his songs are few. Several of
them have been set to music, and are frequently sung. But Sir Walter's
skill as a poet, great as it is, has been eclipsed by his power as a
writer of fiction; the _Waverley_ Novels will be forgotten only when
the English language is disused. A cabinet edition of his novels,
illustrated with elegant engravings, appeared in forty-eight volumes
shortly before his decease. Numerous editions were issued by Mr Cadell;
and Messrs Adam and Charles Black, the present possessors of the
copyright, have distinguished themselves not only by producing several
elegant library editions, but by placing within reach of the humblest
artisan those instructive, interesting, and admirable works. From a
gentleman, who was many years manager of Mr Cadell's publishing house,
we have received some details respecting the production of Sir Walter's
publications, which seem worthy of being recorded. Down to October 1856
there had, writes our informant, been printed of his Works and Life,
7,967,369 volumes, in which had been used 99,592 reams of paper,
weighing 1245 tons. Mr Cadell's "People's Editions" exhausted 227,631
reams, or 2848 tons. The gross weight of paper in Mr Cadell's original
and cheap editions amounted to 4093 tons. The sheets of paper used in
the entire works were 106,542,438, which, laid side by side, would cover
3363 square miles.

Sir Walter Scott lived at a period when indifference to religion among
men of letters, even in Scotland, was by no means uncommon, and many of
his contemporaries were, it is to be feared, most imperfectly
influenced with proper views of Christian obligation. With sentiments of
indifference on a theme so important, Sir Walter had no sympathy. While
contemning sectarian exclusiveness, and abhorring superstition, he was
zealous in maintaining sound Scriptural doctrine, and he discouraged the
utterance of every sentiment which savoured of profanity or bordered on
scepticism. His "Religious Discourses," published anonymously, indicate
deep moral earnestness, while his hymn on the "Day of Judgment" attests
the sincerity of his devotion.

Desirous that these brief memorials might contain some additional
testimony to the religious earnestness of one who occupies so prominent
a place in national and literary history, we requested our venerated
friend Dean Ramsay to state his impressions of Sir Walter's personal
bearing during his residence at Abbotsford after Lady Scott's death, and
before her funeral. To our request the Dean, with his usual courtesy,
acceded. He writes thus:

"You ask me the impression left on my mind by my visit to Abbotsford on
the occasion of Lady Scott's death. It is indeed a very easy and a very
pleasing office to give you that impression. I could not but feel all
the time I was there that our great Sir Walter was as much to be loved
for the qualities of his heart as he had been admired for the high gifts
of his intellect and his genius. He displayed throughout the whole time
the subdued and calm spirit of a Christian mourner. There was manifest
an entire acquiescence in the wisdom and goodness of his heavenly
Father, who had bereaved him of the wife and companion of his early
years. His kind, gentle manner to his domestics; his devoted attention
to his daughter, who was in deep distress; his serious appearance during
the funeral service; his own proposal in the evening to have domestic
worship, and his devotional manner at the time, have left a deep and
pleasing impression on my mind--the impression that I had witnessed
so much gentleness and so much right feeling, which, I could not but
perceive, were the genuine emotions of his heart. Sir Walter Scott was
one of the good and the great of his race and country."

During his last illness, Sir Walter desired portions of the New
Testament and of the Church Service to be frequently read to him, and
when free of pain he repeated portions of the Scottish version of the
Psalms and of evangelical hymns. To Mr Lockhart, his son-in-law, he
said: "Be a good man-be virtuous-be religious-be a good man! Nothing
else will give you any comfort when you come to lie here." These were
among his last words.

For sterling integrity, Sir Walter Scott requires no eulogy from his
biographer. To the effort to cancel his pecuniary obligations he fell a
martyr; while to his survivors it was a source of satisfaction to know
that, by his extraordinary exertions, the policy of life insurance
payable at his death, and the sum of £30,000 given by Mr Cadell for
copyrights, his debt was fully discharged.

The object of his original ambition, Sir Walter did not attain: no
family of his descent and name has been planted at Abbotsford to point
to him as their founder. His children, two sons and two daughters, died
young. His eldest daughter, Sophia, married to Mr Lockhart, gave birth
to several children, all of whom are dead. Her only daughter married Mr
James Hope, Q.C., who has added to his patronymic the name of Scott, and
made Abbotsford his autumnal residence. Mrs Hope Scott died at Edinburgh
on the 26th October 1858, leaving three children. One child, a daughter,
Mary Monica, survives, Sir Walter's only living descendant.

But Sir Walter has obtained posthumous honours far exceeding those of
establishing a landed family in Tweedside. His name is imperishable in
his works-of which the popularity is steadily on the increase. Nor have
his fellow-countrymen lacked in evincing their vigorous appreciation.
Besides several local memorials of respectable construction, the
most graceful monument ever raised by human instrumentality, has been
dedicated to his memory.

An account of that monument will form no inappropriate sequel to the
present narrative. On the 24th day of September 1832, being the third
day after Sir Walter's death, a circular letter was issued convening a
meeting at the Rooms of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, to consider
the best means of honouring his memory. At this meeting a committee was
appointed to arrange a convocation of the citizens. This took place on
the 5th of October, under the presidency of the Lord Provost, when a
resolution in favour of a national monument to Sir Walter, was moved by
the Duke of Buccleuch, and seconded by Lord Rosebery. Sir John Forbes,
Bart., announced that the Bank of Scotland and other banks in Edinburgh,
Sir Walter's creditors, would subscribe £500, in token of their
appreciation of the honourable feelings which induced the deceased
Baronet to dedicate his talents in insuring the full payment of his
debts. Differences arose as to the character of the monument By a
London Committee, of which the Bishop of Exeter and Sir Robert Peel were
conspicuous members, nearly £10,000 were collected. A portion of
this sum was embezzled by a young person unhappily intrusted with the
secretaryship. The balance, amounting to nearly £8000, was employed in
liquidating the debt on the library and museum at Abbotsford. At Glasgow
the subscriptions amounted to about £1200, and a handsome Corinthian
column, surmounted with a statue, has been erected in the chief square
of that city, which is likewise adorned with elegant monuments to royal
personages and national celebrities.

In the market-place at Selkirk, a statue in freestone, by Handyside
Ritchie, commemorates Sir Walter in his capacity of Sheriff of "The
Forest."

In November 1833, the Edinburgh committee had collected £5534, a sum
sufficient to insure the construction of a substantial cenotaph. The
question of a site arose next. Among those suggested were the space in
the Lawn Market, bounded on the east by St Giles' Church; the west end
of Princes Street opposite to St John's Church; the foot of St David
Street near Queen Street Gardens; the open space at Picardy Place;
the rocky angle at the north-east corer of the Calton Hill; Charlotte
Square, Moray Place, and Randolph Crescent. The committee suspended
their decision, and in thirty-two newspapers advertised for designs.
These were lodged with the secretary on the 1st September 1836.
Fifty-five were offered. For each of the three best the committee
adjudged prizes of fifty guineas. One of these bore the signature
"John Morvo," the name of a master mason, commemorated in the abbey of
Melrose. It was assumed by George Meikle Kemp, then a working joiner.
Kemp had studied the peculiarities of Gothic architecture in different
parts of the kingdom, and latterly added to his emoluments by
architectural sketching.

The committee, not quite satisfied with any of the designs received,
advertised a second time. Among those who joined in the new competition
were Sir William Allan, David Roberts, R.A., and William H. Playfair,
the well-known architect. Kemp lodged his former design, considerably
amended. It was adopted by the committee on a majority of twenty-one to
ten, in April 1838. At the same time Mr John Steell, the distinguished
sculptor, was commissioned to prepare a marble statue of Sir Walter,
to be placed under the canopy of the structure. The site was fixed in
Princes Street, opposite to South St David Street. The architect
had designed the monument to reach the height of 180 feet, but the
committee's funds did not justify their proceeding on so large a scale.
In May 1840 an auxiliary committee undertook to procure the balance.

An Act of Parliament securing the site having been obtained, the
foundation stone was, on the 15th August 1840, laid by Sir James Forrest
of Comiston, Bart., Lord Provost of the city, and Grand Master Mason.
A metallic plate deposited in the foundation stone bore the following
inscription, composed by Lord Jeffrey: "This graven plate, deposited in
the base of a votive building on the 15th day of August 1840, and never
likely to see the light again till all the surrounding structures are
crumbled to dust by the decay of time or by human or elemental violence,
may then testify to a distant posterity that his countrymen began on
that day to raise an effigy and architectural monument to the memory of
Sir Walter Scott, part., whose admirable writings were then allowed to
have given more delight and suggested better feeling to a larger class
of readers in every rank of society, than those of any other author,
with the exception of Shakspeare alone, and which were therefore thought
likely to be remembered long after this act of gratitude on the part of
the first generation of his admirers should be forgotten. He was born
at Edinburgh, 15th August 1771, and died at Abbotsford 21st September
1832."

The monument was, at the cost of upwards of £1500, founded on the solid
rock, fifty-two feet under the level of Princes Street. It assumes the
form of a Gothic spire, and may be thus described. From each corner of a
raised platform of masonry rise elegantly clustered columns, from which
spring four grand Early English arches, which converge into a vaulted
roof crossing each other by ribbed groinings with beautifully-carved
bosses, and terminating in a richly ornamented pendant or drop centre.
The arches are successively supported by projecting buttresses also
arched upon clustered columns, and after ascending to the first gallery
spring into the open air to the height of ninety-eight feet, and
terminate in pinnacles carved with crockets and crowned with richly
ornamented finials. The connecting buttresses are decorated with large
niches adorned with brackets and canopies, and each of the abutment
towers at the height of the first gallery has two chaste and
tastefully-wrought gargoyles in the form of grotesque griffins. The
pilasters which separate the different clustered pillars that support
the roof of the structure, are crowned with finely-ornamented capitals,
containing likenesses of sixteen Scottish poets.

The lateral towers are connected with the central one by means of flying
buttresses, and with spandrils and crockets. The four principal arches
and buttresses sustain an open trellis, which extends round the building
in front of the first gallery. On a level with this gallery is an
apartment used as a Waverley Museum. From the gallery rises the
principal tower. On each side is an arched window. A flying staircase
leads to the third gallery. Around are towers, buttresses, pinnacles,
arches, crockets, corbels and finials-in all the rich profusion of
Gothic architecture. On reaching the fourth gallery the view is grand in
the extreme. At each successive stage are elegantly-sculptured niches,
intended for statues illustrative of the poet's works. The height of the
Monument (increased beyond the original design) is two hundred feet six
inches above the level of Princes Street. It is ascended by 289 steps.

The monumental statue under the canopy represents Sir Walter in a
sitting attitude, with the ample folds of a Scottish plaid hanging
loosely about him, and his favourite hound Maida at his feet. Mr Steell
has seized the moment when the great novelist has just recorded some of
his imperishable thoughts in the volume which is in his hand, and he has
communicated to the features a look of complete abstraction, while the
dog, as if startled by the closing of the book, is in the act of lifting
up its head to catch the expression of its master's countenance. The
statue was inaugurated in 1846. The block of marble from which it was
chiselled, contained 200 cubic feet, and weighed upwards of 25 tons. The
monument is constructed of sandstone from Binny Quarry. The funds raised
by the original and auxiliary committees amounted to £17,243, 4s. The
sum of £1871, 12s. 8d., was expended in procuring subscriptions. For the
statue, Mr Steell received £2000-eight small statues cost £179, 5s.
10d. a sum of £460, 3s. 5d. was lost by a contractor, and a railing was
constructed at the expense of £147, 13s. 6d. The balance, amounting to
£13,584, 8s. 6d., was expended in the monumental fabric.

Persevering as were their labours, the auxiliary committee were unable
to procure funds sufficient to provide statues for all the niches.
Thirty niches are still unoccupied, but Mr James Ballantyne, the
esteemed Scottish poet, is now exerting himself to complete the work.
The sum of £2000, Mr Ballantyne believes, will suffice to provide the
remaining statues.

On the memory of Sir Walter Scott is to be conferred a new honour. There
is to be a centenary celebration of his birth. All classes, including
the most illustrious, have resolved, on the hundredth anniversary of
his natal day, co testify their hearty appreciation. His praise will be
celebrated in every town--descanted on in every hamlet His poetry will
be rehearsed in scenes which his poetical descriptions have rendered
famous; and in every spot celebrated by his pen, flying banners and an
assembled population will testify to the potency of his' enchantment.
The keenest trader will for a time sacrifice before the shrine of
genius; abandoning his counting-house and his ledger to do reverence
to the memory of one whose writings have cheered his home circle, and
amidst corroding cares awakened within him pleasurable emotions.

Nor may the ordinary caviller begrudge the tribute. Of these centenary
honours three Britons only have been deemed worthy; Shakspeare, Burns,
and Walter Scott. All these have exalted and purified human nature,
and, by the force and splendour of their genius, fitted mankind more
fully to appreciate and enjoy the forthgivings of a higher and nobler
inspiration.

[Illustration: 026]



THE CENTENARY GARLAND.



WAVERLEY.

IN the romance of "Waverley," the gifted author depicts the manners of
Scottish Highlanders at the period of the '45. The tale was sketched
out, and one-third written in 1805. Laid aside till 1811, it was then
resumed; it appeared anonymously in 1814. For the copyright, Constable
tendered £700, but the offer was declined on the ground that the sum
was too much should the novel prove a failure, and too little if it were
successful. The success exceeded the utmost expectations both of the
author and the publishers.

In MacMurrough's Chant, Mr Daniel Maclise, R.A., represents a scene in
the twentieth chapter. Waverley is entertained at Glennaquoich by Fergus
Maclvor in the hall of his ancestor, _Ian-nan-Chaistel_, "John of the
Tower." The hall occupied all the first storey of the original erection,
and a huge oak table extended through its whole length. The company
was numerous, even to crowding. At the head of the table sat the
chief himself, with Waverley, and two or three Highland visitors
of neighbouring tribes; the elders of his own tribe, wadsetters and
tacksmen, who occupied portions of his estate, as mortgagers or
lessees, sat next in rank; beneath them, their sons and nephews, and
foster-brethren; then the officers of the chief's household, according
to their order; and lowest of all, the tenants.... Beyond this long
perspective, upon the green, to which a huge pair of folding doors
opened, might be seen a multitude of Highlanders of a yet inferior
description, who, nevertheless, were considered as guests, and had their
share both of the countenance of the entertainer and the cheer of the
day. In the distance, and fluctuating round the extreme verge of the
banquet, was a changeful group of women, ragged boys and girls, beggars
young and old.

[Illustration: 028]

[Illustration: 029]

The banquet was approaching its close, when the chief signalled the
piper to cease, and then exclaimed, "Where is the song hidden, my
friends, that MacMurrough cannot find it?" The _bhairdh_ took the hint,
and began to chant, with low and rapid utterance, a profusion of
Celtic verses. As he advanced in his declamation, his ardour seemed to
increase: he had at first spoken with eyes fixed on the ground; he now
cast them around, as if beseeching, and anon as if commanding attention;
and his tones rose into wild and impassioned notes, accompanied with
appropriate gestures. The poet's ardour communicated itself to the
audience; their wild and sun-burnt countenances assumed a fiercer and
more animated expression; all bent towards the reciter, many sprang up
and waved their arms in ecstasy, and some laid their hands upon their
swords.

*****

In the accompanying etching, Mr George Cruikshank represents the droll
scene where Mr Duncan Macwheeble is informed by Waverley of his present
fortune and future expectations, and of his intention to share all with
Miss Rose Bradwardine. Waverley had found the Bailie (Macwheeble) in his
office, and before him a large bicker of oatmeal porridge, with a horn
spoon and a bottle of twopenny, "while a potbellied Dutch bottle of
brandy which stood by, intimated that this honest limb of the law had
taken his morning already, or that he meant to season his porridge with
such digestive." At the instant Waverley revealed the secret of his
attachment to Miss Rose, he almost deprived the Bailie of his senses. He
started from his three-footed stool, like the pythoness from her tripod;
flung his best wig out of the window, because the block on which it was
placed stood in the way of his career; chucked his cap to the ceiling,
and caught it as it fell; whistled "Tullochgorum," danced a Highland
fling with inimitable grace and agility, and then threw himself,
exhausted, into a chair, exclaiming, "Lady Wauverley!-Ten thousand
a-year, the least penny!--Lord preserve my poor understanding!"



GUY MANNERING.

GUY MANNERING, the second novel of the author of "Waverley" was composed
during six weeks preceding Christmas 1814. It appeared in the following
February in three small volumes, at the price of one guinea. The
edition, consisting of 2000 copies, was sold the day after publication,
and within three months, 5000 copies were circulated. The novel was
founded on a tale which Scott had received from an old Highlander, a
servant of his father, who related how that a grave and elderly person
being benighted while travelling in Galloway, had experienced the
hospitality of a country laird whose wife was on the eve of her
confinement. The stranger being informed of the exact minute of the
birth, made, by astrological signs, a remarkable augury respecting the
fortunes of the young stranger. Though based on the supernatural, "Guy
Mannering" embraces an interesting portraiture of Scottish life during
the early portion of the eighteenth century. One of the more conspicuous
characters is Dandie Dinmont, of Charlie's Hope, with his breed of
terriers, Auld Pepper, Auld Mustard, Young Pepper, Young Mustard, Little
Pepper, Little Mustard, and the others. From the fireside of the little
inn of Mumps Ha', Dandie carried away some uncomfortable surmises. These
were not removed by the several tall figures that appeared advancing
towards him. He advised Brown (Harry Bertram) not to wait for their
arrival, but to jump behind him on Dumple's back, and deprecated any
declinature under the circumstances. "Dumple could carry six folk," said
Dandie, "if his back were long enough; but, God's sake, haste ye, get
on, for I see some folk coming through the slack yonder, that it may be
just as weel no to wait for." Brown was of opinion that this apparition
of five or six men, with whom the other villains seemed to join company,
coming across the moss towards them, should abridge ceremony. He
therefore mounted Dumple, _en croup_, and the little spirited nag
cantered away with two men of great size and strength, as if they had
been children of six years old. The rider, to whom the paths of these
wilds seemed intimately known, pushed on at a rapid pace, managing with
much dexterity to choose the safest route, in which he was aided by the
sagacity of the Galloway, who never failed to take the difficult passes
exactly at the particular spot, and in the special manner by which they
could be most safely crossed. The scene of this adventure is graphically
delineated in the engraving.

[Illustration: 032]

[Illustration: 033]

In his present etching, Mr George Cruikshank is eminently
characteristic. Dominie Sampson, as entreated by Mrs Bertram, had
undertaken the task of watching little Harry in his rambles. The worthy
Dominie was devoted to his charge, and was delighted with his success
in having brought him so far in his learning as to spell words of three
syllables. He dreaded the idea of the child being seized by gipsies; and
though the occupation essentially differed from his former mode of life,
he stalked about with young Harry, who, being only of five years, was
constantly rambling into awkward situations. Twice was the Dominie
pursued by a cross-grained cow, and at another time he plunged into a
brook in crossing it at the stepping-stones. At length he fell into the
peril depicted by the artist. In seeking to pluck a water-lily for the
young laird he fell into the slough of Lochend, in which he was bogged
up to the middle. In his plight he exclaimed as usual "Pro-di-gi-ous!"
amidst the laughter of the village matrons, one of whom offered her hand
to help him out. Another declared that "the laird might as weel trust
the care of his bairn to a potato-bogle."



THE ANTIQUARY.

THE ANTIQUARY appeared in May 1816: it was commenced a little before
the close of the previous year. By the author it was regarded as less
interesting than its predecessors, but the public showed appreciation by
purchasing 6000 copies within six days of its publication. Like the two
former novels, it is a representation of various scenes and phases
of Scottish Life as contemplated by the author himself. In our first
engraving, Mr Oldbuck is on a visit at Elspeth's hut to inquire into
mysteries connected with the house of Glenallan, mysteries in which she
had been initiated, and crimes to which she had been accessory. He is
accompanied by his nephew and Edie Ochiltree, the latter having on one
occasion been dispatched by Elspeth with a message to Lord Glenallan.
"No, wretched Beldam," exclaimed Oldbuck, who could keep silence no
longer, "they drank the poison that you and your wretched mistress
prepared for them."

"Ha, ha!" she replied, "I aye thought it would come to this; it's but
sitting silent when they examine,-there's nae torture in our days;
and if there is, let them rend me. It's ill o' the vassal's mouth that
betrays the bread it eats."

"Speak to her, Edie," said the Antiquary, "she knows your voice, and
answers to it most readily."

"We shall mak naething mair out o' her," said Ochiltree; "when she has
clinkit herself down that way, and faulded her arms, she winna speak a
word, they say, for weeks thegither. And besides, to my thinking, her
face is sair changed since we came in. However, I'll try her once more
to satisfy your honour. So you canna keep in mind, cummer, that your
auld mistress, the Countess Joscelin, has been removed?"

"Removed!" she exclaimed, for that name never failed to produce its
usual effect upon her, "then we maun a' follow. A' maun ride when she is
in the saddle: tell them to let Lord Geraldin know we're on before them.
Bring my hood and scarf; ye wadna hae me gang in the carriage wi' my
leddy, and my hair in this fashion?" She raised her shrivelled arms,
and seemed busied like a woman who puts on her cloak to go abroad, then
dropped them slowly and stiffly; and the same idea of a journey still
floating apparently through her head, she proceeded in a hurried
and interrupted manner-"Call Miss Neville; what do you mean by Lady
Geraldine? I said Eveline Neville-not Lady Geraldine-there's no Lady
Geraldine; tell her that, and bid her change her wet gown, and no' look
so pale. Teresa-Teresa, my lady calls us! Bring a candle, the grand
staircase is as mirk as a yule midnight. We are coming, my lady!" With
these words she sunk back on the settle, and from thence sidelong to the
floor. Edie ran to support her, but hardly got her in his arms before he
said, "It's a' ower, she has passed away even with that last word."

[Illustration: 036]

[Illustration: 037]

Mr Cruikshank has portrayed with his wonted humour the amusing scene at
the Post-Office, in which Mrs Heukbane and Mrs Shortcake are examining,
with eager countenances, the love-letter of Richard Taffrail to Jenny
Caxon. They threw themselves on the supposed love-letter, like the weird
sisters in Macbeth, upon the pilot's thumb, with curiosity as eager,
and scarcely less malignant. Mrs Heukbane was a tall woman; she held the
precious epistle up between her eyes and the window. Mrs Shortcake, a
little squat personage, strained and stood on tiptoe to have her share
of the investigation. "It's frae him sure enough," said the butcher's
lady; "I can read Richard Taffrail on the corner; and it's written, like
John Thomson's wallet, frae end to end.'

"Haud it lower down, madam," exclaimed Mrs Shortcake, in a tone above
the prudential whisper which their occupation required; "haud it lower
down; div ye think naebody can read hand o' writ but yoursel'?"

"Whisht, whisht," said Mrs Mail-letter, "there's somebody in the shop."



ROB ROY,

THE romance of "Rob Roy" was composed in 1817, and published in January
of the following year. An edition of 10,000 disappeared in two weeks,
when a second impression was printed. Rob Roy and his wife, Bailie Nicol
Jarvie and his housekeeper, Die Vernon and Rashleigh Osbaldistone,
were all favourite characters; and the novel essentially sustained the
reputation of the "unknown" author. In the accompanying engraving, Mr
Melville has represented the lower section of Loch Lomond, the Queen of
Scottish lakes. On the right is presented the massive shoulder of Ben
Lomond, which raises its lofty head 3192 feet above the ocean's level,
while on the left extend the craggy forms of the Arrochar mountains.
With the promise of mutual aid and good will, Bailie Nicol Jarvie and
Frank Osbaldistone have parted with the Macgregor, and in their skiff
bear away from the shore towards the south western angle of the lake,
where it gives birth to the Leven. Rob Roy remained for some time
standing on the rock, from beneath which they had departed, conspicuous
by his long gun, waving tartans, and the single plume in his cap, which,
in those days, denoted the Highland gentleman and soldier, though the
present military taste has decorated the Highland bonnet with a quantity
of black plumage, resembling that which is borne before funerals.

*****

To every reader of "Rob Roy," the scene in Jeanie MacAlpine's
public-house, sketched by Mr Cruikshank, is abundantly familiar. Let
the scene be illustrated in the novelist's own words: "I (Frank
Osbaldistone) put myself in a posture of defence, and, aware of the
superiority of my weapon, a rapier or small sword, was little afraid of
the issue of the contest. The Bailie behaved with unexpected mettle:
as he saw the gigantic Highlander about to confront him with his weapon
drawn, he tugged for a second or two at the hilt of his _shabble_, as he
called it; but finding it loth to quit the sheath, to which it had long
been secured by rust and disuse, he seized, as a substitute, on the
red-hot coulter of a plough, which had been employed in arranging the
fire by way of a poker, and brandishing it with such effect, that at the
first pass he set the Highlander's plaid on fire, and compelled him to
keep a respectful distance, till he could get it extinguished. Andrew
Fairservice, who ought to have faced the Lowland champion, vanished
at the very commencement of the fray; but his antagonist, crying
'fair-play,' seemed courteously disposed to take no share in the
scuffle.' Osbaldistone's aim was to possess himself of his antagonist's
weapon, but he declined from closing with him through fear of a dirk
which he held in his left hand. The Bailie, notwithstanding the success
of his first onset, was sorely bested. The weight of his weapon, the
corpulence of his person, the very effervescence of his own passion,
were rapidly exhausting his strength and his breath, and he was almost
at the mercy of his antagonist, when up started the sleeping Highlander,
with his naked sword and target in his hand, and threw himself between
the discomfited magistrate and his assailant, exclaiming, 'Her ownsell
has eaten the town bread at the cross o' Glasgow; and by her troth,
she'll fight for Bailie Sharvie at the clachan of Aberfoil.'"

[Illustration: 040]

[Illustration: 041]



OLD MORTALITY.

OLD MORTALITY commenced a series of novels which Scott entitled "Tales
of my Landlord." The title was a _sobriquet_ given to Robert Paterson,
an eccentric native of Dumfriesshire, who, during the latter portion of
the eighteenth century, repaired without recompence the tombstones
of the Covenanters in the southern counties; but the novel treats
of Scottish manners during the period when those commemorated by Old
Mortality were alive. It was published in December 1816, and within six
weeks two editions, each of two thousand, disappeared.

In the sketch of the "Black Linn of Linklater," the artist has caught
the moment when Morton looked round him, and the girl, his companion,
pulled his sleeve, and pointing to the oak and the projecting rock
beyond it, indicated that there lay his farther passage. "He gazed
at her with surprise, for although he well knew that the persecuted
Presbyterians had sought refuge among dells and thickets, caves and
cataracts, in spots the most extraordinary and secluded, yet his
imagination had never exactly figured out the horrors of such a
residence..... He began to consider how he should traverse the doubtful
and terrific bridge, which, skirted by the cascade, and rendered wet and
slippery by its constant drizzling, traversed the chasm above sixty feet
from the bottom of the fall Fixing his eye on a stationary object on
the other side he resolved to attempt the passage...." The inhabitant of
this secluded retreat was Balfour of Burley, with whom he was desirous
of renewing an acquaintance, which had been broken off since the fight
of Bothwell Bridge.

*****

The scene of "Cuddie's leave-taking" has formed an appropriate subject
for the pencil of Mr Cruikshank. "Fare ye weel, Jenny," said Cuddie,
with a loud exertion of his lungs, intended, perhaps, to be a sigh, but
rather resembling a groan. "Ye'll think of puir Cuddie sometimes; an
honest lad that lo'es ye, Jenny! Ye'll think o' him now and then?"

"Whiles-at brose time," answered the malicious damsel, unable either to
suppress the repartee, or the arch smile that attended it. Cuddie took
his revenge, as rustic lovers are wont, and as Jenny probably expected,
caught his mistress round the neck, kissed her cheeks and lips heartily,
and then turned his horse and trotted after his master. "Deil'sin the
fallow," said Jenny, wiping her lips, and adjusting her head-dress, "he
has twice the spunk o' Tam Halliday, after a'!-Coming, my leddy, coming.
Lord have a care o' us! I trust the auld leddy didna see us!"

"Jenny," said Lady Margaret, as the damsel came up, "was not that young
man who commanded the party, the same who was captain of the popinjay,
and who was afterwards prisoner at Tillietudlem, on the morning
Claverhouse came there?" Jenny, happy that the query had no reference
to her own little matters, looked at her young mistress, to discover, if
possible, whether it was her cue to speak truth or not. Being unable to
catch any hint to guide her, she followed her instinct, and expressed
herself fictitiously.

[Illustration: 044]

[Illustration: 045]

[Illustration: 046]



A LEGEND OF MONTROSE,

THIS novel, one of the series of the "Tales of my Landlord," was
produced while the author was suffering from severe illness; and it was
passed through the press without his revision. It was, however, well
received by the public, and rapidly obtained a wide circulation. It is
chiefly founded on the melancholy fate of John, Lord Kilpont, eldest son
of William, Earl of Airth and Menteith, and the remarkable circumstances
which attended the birth and career of Stewart of Ardvoirlich, by whose
hand he fell.

In the accompanying sketch, the artist has represented the meeting of
Lord Menteith and Dugald Dalgetty in the Pass of Leny, a picturesque
defile in Perthshire, of which the scenery is depicted in the "Lady of
the Lake."

"The Pass" is approached from the low country by a road winding round
the base of Benledi. At a sudden bend of the road is disclosed Loch
Lubnaig, the source of the river which flows rapidly on the left. In the
background rises the massive summit of Benmore, overtopping the heights
of Balquhidder. Lord Menteith, accompanied by his two servants, one
leading a sumpter horse, had just wound round the projecting mountain,
which skirts the lake's northern shore, when he remarked a single
horseman coming down the shore as if to meet him. The stranger was
mounted on a powerful horse, and his rider occupied his war-saddle with
an air which showed it was his familiar seat. He wore a bright burnished
head-piece with a plume of feathers, together with a cuirass, thick
enough to resist a musket-ball. These defensive arms he wore over a
buff-jerkin, along with a pair of gauntlets, the tops of which reached
to his elbows. At the front of his saddle hung a case of pistols, nearly
two feet in length, and carrying bullets of twenty to the pound. A
buff belt, with a broad silver buckle, sustained on one side a long,
straight, double-edged sword, with a strong guard, and calculated either
to strike or push. On the right side hung a dagger of about eighteen
inches in length; a shoulder-belt sustained at his back a musketoon,
and was crossed by a bandalier containing his charges of ammunition.
Thigh-pieces of steel called taslets, met the top of his jack-boots, and
completed the equipage of Rittmaster Dugald Dalgetty of Drumthwacket.

[Illustration: 048]

[Illustration: 049-050]

Mr Cruikshank represents Captain Dalgetty's landing at Ardenvohr. The
boatman, seizing the Captain with rough civility, horsed him on the back
of a sturdy Highlander, and wading through the surf with him, landed him
on the beach under the Castle Rock. In the face of the rock appeared
the entrance of a low-browed cavern, toward which his attendants were
hurrying him, when Dalgetty, shaking himself from their grasp, insisted
upon seeing Gustavus, his horse, safely landed, before he proceeded a
step further. The Highlander could not comprehend what he meant, until
one who had picked up a little English, exclaimed, "Hout! it's a'
about her horse, ta useless baste." Farther remonstrance on the part
of Dalgetty was interrupted by the appearance of Sir Duncan Campbell
himself, from the mouth of the cavern, for the purpose of inviting
Captain Dalgetty to accept of the hospitality of Ardenvohr, pledging his
honour, at the same time, that Gustavus should be treated as became the
hero from whom he derived his name, not to mention the important
person to whom he now belonged. Notwithstanding this very satisfactory
guarantee, Captain Dalgetty would still have hesitated, had not two
Highlanders seized him by the arms, two more pushed him on behind, while
a fifth exclaimed, "Hout! awa' wi' the daft Sassenach! does she no hear
the Laird bidding her up to her ain castle, wi' her especial voice; and
isna' that very mickle honour for the like o' her?"



THE BLACK DWARF,

THE tale of the "Black Dwarf" appeared in 1819. One of the "Tales of My
Landlord" series, it was founded on the character and peculiarities of
David Ritchie, a misshapen creature, popularly known as _Bow'd Davie_,
who lived on a wild moorland near Peebles, and who, from his deformed
aspects and uncouth manners, was an object of superstitious dread in
the locality. Mr Turner, the celebrated artist, has, in the accompanying
illustration, strikingly delineated a familiar scene in the novel. As
Earnscliff and Hobbie Elliott were crossing the common, the latter was
interrupted in certain protestations of heroism which he was uttering,
by the outline of a form seemingly human, but under the ordinary size,
moving among the grey stones which formed the buttress of the granite
column which they were approaching. The figure was descried by aid of
the moon, which, struggling with the clouds, shed a doubtful light upon
the scene. From time to time came a sort of indistinct muttering sound.
The entire spectacle so much resembled his idea of an apparition, that
Hobbie, making a dead pause, while his hair stood on end, whispered to
his companion, "It's Auld Ailie hersel'! shall I gi'e her a shot?"

"For Heaven's sake, no," said Earnscliff, holding down the weapon, which
he was about to raise to the aim; "for Heaven's sake, no; it's some poor
distracted creature."

In his etching Mr George Cruikshank has effectively represented the
strange interview between Hobbie Elliott and the Dwarf. It is described
by the novelist. "The Dwarf turned his rage on the young farmer, and
by a sudden effort, far more powerful than Hobbie expected from such a
person, freed his wrist from his grasp, and offered the dagger at his
heart All this was done in the twinkling of an eye, and the incensed
recluse might have completed his vengeance by plunging the weapon in
Elliott's bosom, had he not been checked by an internal impulse,
which made him hurl the knife at a distance. 'No! he exclaimed, as he
voluntarily deprived himself of the means of gratifying his rage; 'not
again-not again!' Hobbie retreated a step or two in great surprise,
discomposure, and disdain, at having been placed in such danger by an
object apparently so contemptible, exclaiming, 'The deil's in the body,
for strength and bitterness!'"

[Illustration: 053]

[Illustration: 054-55]



THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN.

THE HEART OF MID-LOTHIAN, one of the most popular of the Waverley
novels, appeared in June 1818. It is founded on the well-known incident
of Helen Walker, a woman in humble life, who refused to save her
sister's life when it rested upon her oath, but who, after her sister's
condemnation, undertook a foot journey to London, where, from the Duke
of Argyll, she procured a pardon and returned with it, again on foot, in
time to stay the execution.

The accompanying illustration represents the death of Captain Porteous,
a leading event in the novel. The scene depicted is the Grassmarket of
Edinburgh. The opening to the right is the Cowgate, near which Porteous
was hanged. Beyond is Edinburgh Castle, occupying the summit of the
lofty rock which rises precipitously above the houses of the Old Town.
The mob having ascertained that the sentence of death passed upon
Captain Porteous would not be carried out, resolved to become his
executioners themselves; and bursting the prison doors, seized on the
unfortunate officer, whom they hurried to the place of execution. While
a gibbet was being prepared, Butler, the clergyman who had been pressed
into the service of the mob, endeavoured to dissuade them from their
desperate design. Porteous protested that what he had done fell out
in self-defence, in the lawful exercise of his duty; but the enraged
multitude were determined on his destruction. Separated from the unhappy
victim by the press, Butler hastened from the spot, and casting back a
terrified glance, discovered a figure struggling as it hung suspended
above the heads of the multitude, and could observe men striking at it
with their axes.

*****

Our other illustration is of a humorous character. Mr Cruikshank
represents the visit of the Laird of Dumbiedykes to Jeanie Deans. When
a change of residence, from Woodend to St Leonard's Crags, was resolved
upon, Jeanie concluded that she would be released from the visits of
Dumbiedykes, but in this expectation she was disappointed; for, on the
sixth day after her arrival, the laird appeared at St Leonard's, laced
hat, tobacco pipe, and all, and, with the self-same greeting of "How is
a' wi' you, Jeanie?" assuming nearly the same position as at Woodend.
With an unusual exertion of the powers of conversation, he added,
"Jeanie-I say-Jeanie, woman!" at the same time extending his hand
towards her shoulder, with all the fingers spread out as if to clutch
it, but in so awkward a manner, that when she whisked beyond its reach,
the paw remained suspended in the air with the palm open, like the claw
of a heraldic griffin. "Jeanie," continued the swain, in this moment of
inspiration, "I say, Jeanie, it's a braw day out-by, and the roads are
no that ill for boot-hose."

"The deil's in that driv'ling body," muttered Jeanie, "wha wad hae
thought o' his daunerin' out this length?" for the landed proprietor
looked so unco gleg and canty, that she didna ken what he might be
coming out wi' next.

[Illustration: 058]

[Illustration: 059]



THE BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR.

BRIDE OF LAMMERMOOR, one of the products of 1819, is founded on
a remarkable narrative, connected with the marriage of Miss Janet
Dalrymple, daughter of the first Lord Stair, who, without the parental
knowledge, engaged herself to the Lord Rutherford, but who subsequently
consented to abandon her noble lover, and accept the hand of David
Dunbar, younger of Baldoon, whose suit was supported by her parents. On
the 24th August 1669, shortly after the nuptial ceremony, the bridegroom
was found in the bridal chamber lying across the threshold, frightfully
wounded and streaming with blood. On a search, the bride was discovered
in the chimney-corner, dabbled in gore, and moping as an idiot; she
survived only two weeks. The bridegroom, who recovered from his wounds,
refused to answer any questions in relation to the tragedy; he was
killed by a fall from his horse in March 1682.*

     * The marriage contract of the Bride of Lammermoor has
     lately been discovered at St Mary's Isle, the seat of the
     Earl of Selkirk. His lordship is the representative of the
     family of Dunbar of Baldoon, and has the family papers in
     his possession. In arranging these he came upon the
     contract. The four signatures are, David Dunbar the
     bridegroom, Janet Dalrymple the bride, James Dalrymple, and
     Baldoon, father of the bridegroom. James Dalrymple may have
     been the bride's brother, who rode behind her to the church,
     and whose dagger was used in the assault There is a little
     tremor in the bride's signature.

The accompanying illustration represents Fast Castle, the original
of Wolf's Crag, of which the proprietors, the Logans and Humes, were
conspicuous in Scottish history. Margaret of England, on her way to
join her husband, James IV, at Edinburgh, lodged a night in the castle.
"Yonder is Wolf's Crag," said Ravenswood, "and whatever it still
contains is at your service, Bucklaw." The roar of the sea had long
announced their approach to the cliff, on the summit of which, like the
nest of some sea-eagle, the founder of the fortalice had perched his
eyrie. The pale moon, which had hitherto been contending with flitting
clouds, now shone out, and gave them a view of the solitary and naked
tower, situated on a projecting cliff that beetled on the German Ocean.
On three sides the rock was precipitous; on the fourth, which was
towards the land, it had been originally fenced by an artificial ditch
and drawbridge, but the latter was broken down and ruinous, and the
former had been in part filled up, so as to allow a passage for a
horseman into the narrow courtyard, encircled on two sides by low
offices and stables partly ruinous, and closed on the landward front
by a low embattled wall, while the remaining side of the quadrangle
was occupied by the tower, built of a greyish stone, glimmering in the
moonlight like the sheeted spectre of some huge giant. A wilder or
more disconsolate dwelling, it was perhaps difficult to conceive. The
sombrous and heavy sound of the billows successively dashing against
a rocky beach at a profound distance beneath, was to the ear what
the landscape was to the eye, a symbol of unvaried and monotonous
melancholy.

[Illustration: 062-063]

[Illustration: 064]

Mr Cruikshank has successfully depicted the humorous spectacle of Caleb
Balderstone snatching provisions for his master's table. Dame Lightbody
expected a number of guests to the christening of her "bit wean," when
Caleb entered. There bubbled on the bickering fire a huge caldron, while
before it revolved two spits, one loaded with a quarter of mutton,
the other with a fat goose and a brace of wild ducks. Caleb turned to
reconnoitre as the mother and grandmother hastened to attend the hero of
the evening in a remote corner. Sending one of the youthful turnspits for
"snishing," Caleb, not apprehending danger from the other, lifted up
the spit bearing the wild-fowl, put on his hat, and marched off with
the plunder. The boy at the spit was so bewildered that he became
motionless, and suffered the mutton to burn as black as a coal.



IVANHOE.

IVANHOE (published in December 1819) was Scott's first attempt to depict
the manners and incidents of old English life, and the effort was hailed
with universal delight An impression of 12,000 copies was immediately
disposed of.

Our first illustration represents Prince John and Rebecca at the Passage
of Arms at Ashby. Prince John instantly recognised the Jew, but was
much more agreeably attracted by the beautiful daughter of Zion, who,
terrified by the tumult, clung to the arm of her aged father. "The
figure of Rebecca might have been compared with the proudest beauties of
England. Her form was exquisitely symmetrical, and showed to advantage
by an Eastern dress, which she wore according to the fashion of the
females of her nation. The turban of yellow silk suited well with the
darkness of her complexion. The brilliancy of her eyes, the superb
circle of her eyebrows, her aquiline nose, her teeth as white as pearl,
and the profusion of her sable tresses, which fell down upon as much of
a lovely neck as a simar of rich Persian silk permitted to be visible.
All these constituted a combination of loveliness. A diamond necklace,
with pendants of inestimable value, was conspicuous on her bosom. The
feather of an ostrich, fastened in her turban by an agraffe, was another
distinction of the beautiful Jewess, another attraction to the quick
eye of Prince John." The Prince presented an open set of features,
well formed by nature, and accurately moulded by art to the rules of
courtesy. His dress was one of the richest splendour, a costly mantle
lined with the finest sables fell down from his shoulder or floated in
the breeze; maroquin boots with golden spurs adorned his well-formed
legs and feet, and the grace with which he managed his palfrey gained
him the unlimited applause of the glittering assemblage. Turning towards
the gallery to which the Jew and his lovely charge in vain attempted to
obtain admission, he gave instructions that both should have a place.

"What is she, Isaac, thy wife or thy daughter?"

"My daughter Rebecca, so please thy grace."

"Daughter or wife," replied the Prince, "she shall be preferred
according to her beauty and thy merits."

[Illustration: 067]

[Illustration: 068]

The interview of the Black Knight and the Friar of Copmanhurst is from
the pencil of Mr Cruikshank. King Richard, otherwise the Black Sluggard,
having extorted the confidence of the jolly hermit, obeyed his command
as master of the feast: "Sit down, fill thy cup; let us drink, sing, and
be merry; fill a flagon; nought pitches the voice and sharpens the ear
like a cup of wine; and I love to feel the grape at my fingers' ends,
before they make the harp-strings tickle." The king essayed a ballad,
which he had learned in the Holy Land, during which the friar demeaned
himself like a first-rate critic at a new opera. When the ballad was
ended, the friar took up his harp, and entertained the king with a
characteristic song, the concluding stanza of which is deserving of
remembrance by brothers of the trade:

     "Long flourish the sandal, the cord, and the rope,
     The dread of the devil, and trust of the Pope;
     For to gather life's roses unscathed by the briar,
     Is granted alone to the bare-footed friar."



THE MONASTERY.

AFTER the publication of "Ivanhoe," Scott returned for a time to the
illustration of Scottish life. "The Monastery" was published in March
1820, in three duodecimo volumes. Owing to the supernatural element
introduced by the White Lady of Avenel, the novel was less successful
than its predecessors. It was, however, redeemed from absolute failure
through the beautiful descriptions of natural scenery and the striking
Scottish manners which it presented.

In the accompanying engraving is represented the Abbey of Melrose
amidst the beautiful scenery by which it is surrounded. It is the finest
specimen of Gothic architecture in Scotland. The spire of the central
tower has disappeared, but the tower itself, eighty-four feet in
height, imparts dignity to the structure. The grand east window is
of unparallelled beauty and elegance. Gothic pinnacles terminate the
principal buttresses,'which, with the various windows, are decorated
with admirably carved figures and niches richly sculptured. In Melrose
Abbey was deposited the heart of King Robert the Bruce, after the
unsuccessful attempt to carry it to Palestine.

The absence of Father Eustace, superior of the abbey, who was detained
much beyond his accustomed hour of returning home, created alarm among
his brethren, and the dependants had all been summoned to assist, with
torches, in searching for the venerable man. The shout of joy that
was raised as he approached, soon convinced him of the object of the
assemblage; and the invitations distributed to the people, to call
at the convent kitchen for a "quarter of a yard of roast beef each,"
demonstrated the esteem in which he was held in the institution.

*****

In our second illustration Herbert Glendinning is presenting the silver
bodkin which he received from the White Lady. The production of this
token has caused the most extraordinary change in the aspect of Sir
Piercie Shafton, whose serenity has suddenly become transformed into
fury. He has started up, quivering with rage, and in his inflamed and
agitated features he resembles a demoniac rather than a mortal under
the government of reason. He thrusts both his clenched fists towards
Glendinning's face, but the next moment withdraws them, and striking his
open palm against his forehead, rushes from the apartment.

[Illustration: 071-072]

[Illustration: 073]



THE ABBOT.

THE ABBOT was published in September 1820, as a sequel to "The
Monastery," which appeared in the preceding March. According to Mr
Lockhart, it arose in Scott's mind during a visit to Blair-Adam. The
beautiful localities of that estate are distinctly alluded to, while the
virtues of the amiable owner, Mr Chief Commissioner Adam, are admirably
portrayed.

In the accompanying illustration, the artist represents an apartment in
Holyrood Palace, in which the Regent Murray has just held a meeting
of the Privy Council. In the room is a long open table, surrounded by
stools of the same wood. In front of a large elbow chair covered with
crimson velvet, the Regent is standing. The usher has marshalled Roland
Græme into the apartment, and the Regent, who had been laughing with the
Lords, now assumed a deep and even melancholy gravity. He was dressed in
black velvet after the Flemish fashion, and wore in his high crowned
hat a jewelled clasp which looped it up on one side, and formed the only
ornament of his apparel. He had his poignard by his side, and his sword
lay on die table. Roland presented himself with a feeling of awe, and
with an abashed manner placed in his hand the letter of Sir Halbert
Avenel. The Earl paused before he broke the silk with which the letter
was secured, to ask the page his name, so much was he struck with his
handsome features and form.

*****

Mr George Cruikshank depicts the entrance of the Abbot of Unreason to
the church of St Mary's. The door was thrown open with a shout which
brought up the Abbot and his brethren, when the Abbot of Unreason
entered. Then was a scene of ridiculous confusion. Boys shrieked and
howled; men laughed and hallooed; women giggled and screamed; and the
beasts roared; and the dragon walloped and hissed; and the hobby-horse
neighed, pranced, and capered; and the rest frisked and frolicked,
clashing their hob-nailed shoes against the pavement till it sparkled
with the marks of their energetic caprioles. The Abbot seemed at a
stand. He made a gesture of his hand as if commanding silence, which was
at first only replied to by redoubled shouts and peals of laughter.

[Illustration: 076]

[Illustration: 077]



KENILWORTH.

MR CONSTABLE requested that Sir Walter would introduce Queen Elizabeth
in his next romance as a companion to Mary Stuart of the Abbot. The
great novelist consented, and having selected that period when the
sudden death of the first Countess of Leicester opened to her husband's
ambition the way to sharing a crown, gave to his romance the name of
"Kenilworth." It was published in January 1821, in three volumes, and
at once excited the deepest interest. "Kenilworth," writes Mr Lockhart,
"continues, and I doubt not, will ever continue, to be placed in the
very highest rank of prose fiction. The rich variety of character and
scenery and incident in this novel has never indeed been surpassed,
nor, with the one exception of the 'Bride of Lammermoor,' has Scott
bequeathed us a deeper and more affecting tragedy than that of Amy
Robsart." Refer-ing to his materials for the novel, Sir Walter writes in
1831: "The reader will find I have borrowed several incidents, as well
as names, from 'Ashmole's Antiquities,' and the more early authorities;
but my first acquaintance with the history was through the more pleasing
medium of verse. There is a period in youth when the mere power of
numbers has a more strong effect on ear and imagination, than in more
advanced life. At this season of immature taste the author was greatly
delighted with the poems of Mickle and Langliome, poets who, though by
no means deficient in the higher branches of their art, were eminent
for their powers of verbal melody above most who have practised this
department of poetry. One of those pieces of Mickle, which the author
was particularly pleased with, is a ballad, or rather a species of
elegy, on the subject of Cumnor Hall, which, with others by the same
author, were to be found in Evans's 'Ancient Ballads' (vol. iv., p.
130), to which work Mickle made liberal contributions."

Among the sports at Kenilworth got up to entertain Queen Elizabeth, was
a mock battle between the English and the Danes, somewhat resembling the
ancient hocktide play. On a preconcerted signal the combatants engaged,
but the concussion was less violent than had been anticipated. This was
not owing to any apprehension of each other, but to the fear of being
pushed into the lake. When the battle raged furiously the former
precaution was neglected, and the pressure causing the railings to
yield, many were precipitated into the water. This scene is depicted in
the accompanying illustration.

[Illustration: 080]

[Illustration: 081]

In his etching Mr Cruikshank represents a stirring incident in the
novel. Wayland Smith and Tresilian, being now partners in a serious
adventure, the former consented to abandon for a season his mysterious
forge; but scarcely had he done so, when Flibbertigibbet entered the
dark tenement, and employed the combustibles he found there to blow up
the cave. He had hinted at his mischievous intentions as Tresilian and
Wayland were mounting their horses, but when the former attempted to
catch, and compel him to speak less mystically, the urchin fled with
a velocity almost preternatural, and baffled the best efforts of his
pursuers.



THE PIRATE.

BY his four novels, published between December 1819, and January 1821,
Sir Walter had realised at least £10,000, while £5000 additional were
paid him by Constable and Co. for the remainder of these copyrights.
The "Pirate" appeared in December 1821, and in the words of Mr Lockhart,
"the wild freshness of its atmosphere, the beautiful contrast of Minna
and Brenda, and the exquisitely-drawn character of Captain Cleveland,
found a reception which they deserved."

In the accompanying illustration, Noma has arrived at the spot where
the shipwrecked seaman had been cast, just in time to restore suspended
animation, and to protect him from plunder. Assisted by Mordaunt she
raised the pirate's head to enable him to disgorge the sea water; but
while her kind services were in progress, Bryce Snailsfoot, the pedlar,
exhibited symptoms of dishonesty, by commencing to remove the pirate's
finger-rings, while he cast an avaricious glance towards the chest. Of
the latter the contents were plain and lace ruffled shirts, a silver
compass, a silver hilted sword, and other valuable articles which
the pedlar knew would stir in the trade. From his villainy Bryce was
deterred by the menaces of Noma, which were scarcely uttered before the
voices of approaching _wreckers_ fell upon her ear. But her vigorous
determination, and the superstitious influence which she exercised over
the islanders, enabled her to save both the life and the property of
Cleveland.

The second illustration represents "Noma Despatching the Provisions."
The attendants of Magnus Troil had just laid out the cold collation
which they had brought with them, and were about to take seats at the
table, when Noma, seizing one article after another, flung them out of
the window into the sea which foamed below; hams and pickled beef flew
into the empty space, smoked geese were returned to the air, and cured
fish to their native element. With some difficulty the Udaller rescued
his silver drinking-cup from the destroyer's hands. What occasioned
Magnus the deepest chagrin was to find his brandy flask, first in the
possession of the dwarf Pacolet, and afterwards in its passage through
the window, an event which was attended by a fiendish grin on the part
of Norna's attendant.

[Illustration: 084]

[Illustration: 085-086]



FORTUNES OF NIGEL

THIS highly interesting and popular romance was published on the 30th
May 1822. Next day Constable wrote from London to the author as follows:
"I learn with astonishment, but not less delight, that the press is
at work again. A new novel, from the author of Waverley, puts aside-in
other words, puts down for the time-every other literary performance.
The smack 'Ocean,' by which the new work was shipped, arrived at the
wharf on Sunday; the bales were got out by _one_ on Monday morning, and
before half-past _ten_ o'clock, 7000 copies had been dispersed from
90 Cheapside."* Though chiefly connected with the fortunes of George
Heriot, the benevolent Scottish jeweller, who founded the Hospital at
Edinburgh which bears his name, the novel fully depicts the habits of
English court life during the reign of James I. The character of that
weak and vacillating prince, and the corrupt manners which he introduced
or countenanced, are skilfully set forth.

     * Constable's London Agents, Messrs Hunt, Robertson, & Co.,
     had their premises in Cheapside.

The accompanying illustration represents the meeting of King James
and Nigel Olifaunt When the king had leisure to take a view of his new
companion, he exclaimed, "Ye are nane of our train, man; in the name of
God, what are ye?"

"If your majesty will look on me," said Nigel, "you will see one whom
necessity makes bold to avail himself of an opportunity which may
never occur again." The king looked-his face became pale-he dropped the
_couteau de chasse_ from his hand, and exclaimed, "Glenvarlochides, as
sure as I am christened James Stuart: this is a bonnie spot of work,
and me alone and on foot too!" The prince meanwhile came up, and seeing
Nigel, thus accosted him, "Sir, you knew yourself to be accused of a
heavy offence, and instead of rendering yourself up to justice, you are
found intruding yourself upon his majesty's presence, and armed with
unlawful weapons."

"Hear me, hear me, noble prince!" said Nigel, eagerly, "hear me;
you-even you yourself-may one day ask to be heard, and in vain."

"How am I to construe that, my lord?" said the prince, haughtily. "If
not on earth, sir," replied the prisoner, "yet to heaven we must all
pray for patient and favourable audience."

"Well, sir," said the prince, "we will ourselves look into your case."

[Illustration: 089]

[Illustration: 090]

Mr Cruikshank represents the encounter between the citizen and the
soldier. The citizen took his ground in the midst of the bowling alley,
brandishing his blade, as if he were to measure cambric with it; while
the captain stood at the distance of twelve paces, having looked over
his shoulder to secure a retreat. Perceiving that the man of war did not
advance, the citizen rushed at him, beat down his guard, and thrust, as
it seemed, his sword clean through his body, when he, with a deep
groan, fell lengthwise on the ground. A score of voices exclaimed to the
conqueror, as he stood utterly overcome by his own feat, "Away with you!
Fly to Whitefriars', while we keep off the constables." While the hero
was flying with all speed, they raised the fallen swordsman, and
opening his vest to search for a wound which did not exist, he suddenly
recovered his senses; and concluding "that the ordinary was no longer
a place or stage on which to display his valour, took to his heels,
pursued by the laughter and shouts of the assemblage."



PEVERIL OF THE PEAK.

SCENES and events in old English life again employed the pen of the
great novelist. The reign of Charles II. was the period of his present
narrative. It was composed hastily, and in the opinion of many was
not equal to his powers. "Peveril of the Peak," writes Mr Lockhart,
"appeared in January 1823. Its reception was somewhat colder than that
of its three immediate predecessors.... Fenella was an unfortunate
conception. What is good in it is not original, and the rest
extravagantly absurd and incredible. Yet did any dramatist ever produce,
in spite of all the surrounding bewilderment, characters more powerfully
conceived, or on the whole more happily portrayed, than those of
Christian, Bridge-north, Buckingham, and Chiffinch?-sketches more vivid
than those of young Derby, Colonel Blood, and the keeper of Newgate?"

Our artist depicts the departure of the Countess of Derby from Peveril's
Castle. The sounds "boot and saddle" rang through the halls of the
castle, and in a few minutes the deep dell which separated the rugged
rocks of that wild district was occupied with Peveril's followers
proceeding cautiously to escort the Countess to the Cheshire border.
A party of troopers in advance was followed by the main body which
accompanied the Countess, mounted on Peveril's palfrey, along with a
groom of approved fidelity, and attended by the Knight of the Peak with
three files of horsemen. Dreading pursuit, they rode "with the beard
on the shoulder," looking round from time to time at the sound of any
unusual noise.

*****

Mr Cruikshank represents the encounter between the dishonest Chiffinch
and Peveril and Lance his pursuers. Chiffinch, in full presumption of
his security, was riding along leisurely with his prize, when Peveril
and Lance reached a solitary part of the road, where neither man nor
woman were in sight. Lance then pushed forward with so much alacrity
that he was between the courtier and his attendant, and had actually
upset the Frenchman and his horse before any effort could be made to
resist him. Julian* snatched the bridle of Chiffinch's horse with one
hand, and presented at him a pistol with the other. "Rogue," cried
Chiffinch, "take my purse, do me no harm, and spare the spices."

     * When, in 1821, Charles Mayne Young, the eminent tragedian,
     was on a visit to Edinburgh, he waited on Sir Walter at his
     residence in Castle Street. He was accompanied by his son
     Julian, then a youth. After warmly shaking hands with the
     tragedian, Sir Walter laid his hand gently on his son's
     shoulder, and asked his Christian name. As soon as he heard
     it he exclaimed, "Why, who is he called after?"

"Master Chiffinch," said Peveril, "give me back that packet which you
stole from me the other night, or I will send a brace of balls through
you, and search for it at leisure" The tone of Peveril's voice, and the
closeness of his pistol, convinced Chiffinch that an immediate delivery
was necessary; thrusting his hand into a side-pocket, he brought out the
object of Peveril's pursuit. By presenting the butt-end of his whip _à
la militaire_, Lance pinned his enemy to the ground, where he lay on his
back imploring mercy.

[Illustration: 093]

[Illustration: 094]

"It is a fancy name in memoriam of his mother, compounded of her two
names, Julia Anne," said Mr Young. "It's a capital name for a novel,"
responded Sir Walter. In his next novel, Peveril of the Peak, the hero's
name was Julian.--Memoir of Charles Mayne Young, by Julian Charles
Young; M.A. London, 1871.



QUENTIN DURWARD.

ON his next adventure, Sir Walter took a wider field. In the romance of
"Quentin Durward," which appeared in June 1823, he portrayed characters
and events connected with the history and times of Louis XI. and Charles
the Bold. "The sensation," writes Mr Lockhart, "which this novel, on its
first appearance, created in Paris, was extremely similar to that which
attended the original 'Waverley' in Edinburgh, and 'Ivanhoe' afterwards
in London. For the first time, Scott had ventured on foreign ground;
and the French public, long wearied of the pompous tragedians and feeble
romancers, who had alone striven to bring out the ancient history
and manners of their country, were seized with a fever of delight....
Germany had been fully awake to his merits years before, but the public
there also felt their sympathies appealed to with hitherto unmatched
strength and effect. The infection of admiration ran far and wide on the
Continent, and soon reacted most potently on Britain."

The accompanying illustration represents one of the most stirring scenes
in the novel. Louis of Bourbon, Bishop of Liege, having accused De la
Marck of sacrilege, and advised him to array himself in sackcloth and
ashes, and proceed on a pilgrimage to Rome, the rage of the tyrant
rose gradually with the admonitions of the priest, until he at length
determined upon vengeance. Raising himself in his chair as Louis ceased,
he looked to Nickel Blok, and lifted his finger, without speaking a
word. The ruffian struck, as if he had been doing his office in the
shambles, and the murdered Bishop sunk at the foot of the Episcopal
throne.

Mr Cruikshank is in his element in describing Cardinal Balue's
predicament at the boar hunt. While the Cardinal was in conversation
with the king, his horse, seizing the bit with his teeth, set off at an
uncontrollable gallop, leaving the king and Dunois far behind. The limbs
of the quadruped, no way under the rider's control, fly at such a
rate as if the hindermost meant to overtake the foremost, while the
cardinal's body, instead of sitting upright, hangs crouched on the back
of the animal, representing a picture sufficiently ludicrous. His short
violet-coloured gown, which he used as a riding-dress, his scarlet
stockings, and scarlet hat, with the long strings hanging down, together
with his utter helplessness, impart infinite zest to his exhibition of
horsemanship.

[Illustration: 097]

[Illustration: 099]



ST RONAN'S WELL

IN the romance which followed "Quentin Durward," Sir Walter resumed
his illustration of the manners of his own country. "St Ronan's Well"
appeared in December 1823, and in this novel he, for the first time,
adventured on the representation of contemporaneous history. In England,
its reception was cold; but Scottish readers maintained that Meg Dods
and Clara Mowbray were among the best creations of the "Unknown." At
Innerleithen, the scene of the novel, there was great rejoicing, the
inhabitants proposing to drop its old name, and substitute that of St
Ronan's.

In our first illustration, our artist represents the meeting of Tyrrel
and Clara Mowbray. "She pulled up the reins, and stopped as if arrested
by a thunderbolt. 'Clara!' 'Tyrrel!' These were the only words that were
exchanged between them until Tyrrel, moving his feet as slowly as if
they had been lead, began gradually to diminish the distance which lay
betwixt them.... 'Surely you need not come,' said Clara, 'either to
renew your own unhappiness or to augment mine.' 'To augment yours-God
forbid!' answered Tyrrel. 'No; I came hither only because, after so many
years of wandering, I longed to revisit the spot where all my hopes lay
buried.' 'Ay, buried is the word,' she replied; 'crushed down and buried
when they budded fairest. I often think of it, Tyrrel; and there are
times when-Heaven help me!-I can think of little else. Look at me; you
remember what I was; see what grief and solitude have made me.' She
flung back the veil which surrounded her riding-hat, and which had
hitherto hid her face. It was the same countenance which he had formerly
known in all the bloom of early beauty; but though the beauty remained,
the bloom was fled for ever. Not the agitation of exercise-not that
which arose from the pain and confusion of this unexpected interview-had
called to poor Clara's cheek even the momentary semblance of colour. Her
complexion was marble-white, like that of the finest piece of statuary."

With inimitable zest, Mr George Cruikshank has represented the rencontre
between Meg Dods and Captain MacTurk. Meg flourished the broom round
her head, exclaiming, as the Captain approached, "I ken your errand
weel eneugh, and I ken yoursel'; ye are ane of the folk that gang aboot
yonder, setting folks by the lugs, as callants set their collies to
fecht; but ye shall come to nae lodger o' mine, let-a-be Maister Tirl,
wi' ony sic ungodly errand; for I am ane that will keep God's peace and
the king's within my dwelling." The apostrophe was followed by another
flourish of the broom, which obliged the Captain to retire a few paces,
and stand on the defensive.

[Illustration: 102]

[Illustration: 103]



RED GAUNTLET.

RED GAUNTLET was published in June 1824. The introduction of Prince
Charles Edward, amidst the dulness of hopeless fortune and of advancing
age, contrasting painfully with his romantic portraiture in "Waverley,"
considerably affected the popularity of the novel on its first
appearance. The characters of Peter Peebles, Nanty Ewart, and Wandering
Willie, all so skilfully portrayed, redeemed the work from absolute
failure.

The accompanying engraving represents salmon hunting in the Solway. "The
banks of that great estuary are here bare and exposed, the waters having
receded from a large space of sand through which a stream feeble and
fordable found its way to the ocean. The whole was illuminated by
the beams of the setting sun, who showed his ruddy front over a huge
battlemented wall of crimson and black clouds, resembling some immense
Gothic fortress into which the lord of day was descending. At this
moment the salmon hunters hastened to the shore, and commenced the
ancient sport. They chased the fish at full gallop, and struck them with
barbed spears--as hunters spearing boars, in the old tapestry. The feats
of one horseman, in particular, called forth the clamorous applause of
his companions so repeatedly, that the very banks rang again with their
shouts. He was a tall man, well mounted on a strong black horse, which
he caused to turn and wind like a bird in the air, carried a longer
spear than the others, and wore a sort of fur cap or bonnet, with a
short feather in it, which gave him rather a superior appearance to the
other fishermen. He seemed to hold some sort of authority among them,
and occasionally directed their motions, both by voice and hand; at
which times his gestures were striking, and his voice sounded uncommonly
sonorous and commanding."

In our second illustration Mr Cruikshank presents the frightful
adventure of Hutcheon and Dougal MacCallum in presence of the dead body
of Redgauntlet. "When midnight came, and the house was quiet as the
grave, the silver whistle sounded as sharp and shrill as if Sir Robert
was blowing it, and up got the two old serving-men, and tottered into
the room where the dead man lay. Hutcheon saw enough at the first
glance; for there were torches in the room, which showed him the foul
fiend in his ain shape, sitting on the laird's coffin! Ower he couped,
as if he had been dead. He could not tell how long he lay in a trance at
the door; but when he gathered himself, he cried on his neighbour, and
getting nae answer, raised the house, when Dougal was found lying dead
within twa steps of the bed where his master's coffin was placed. As for
the whistle, it was lost ance and aye, but mony a time it was heard at
the top of the house on the bartizan and among the auld chimneys and
turrets, where the howlets have their nests."

[Illustration: 106]

[Illustration: 107]



THE BETROTHED.

THE BETROTHED appeared in June 1825 as one of the "Tales of the
Crusaders." On account of certain scruples of James Ballantyne and Mr
Constable, Sir Walter had nearly consented to cancel the sheets,
after the tale, excepting the two last chapters, had been printed off.
Subsequently, he consented to prepare the tale of the "Talisman"
which might accompany its entrance into the world. Both tales appeared
together, and their success left nothing to be desired.

The accompanying illustration represents a striking scene in the novel.
While the monk and the Fleming slept soundly under the shade of the
battlement, Eveline Berenger could forbear no longer in breaking
silence. "Men, my beloved Rose," she said, "are happy; their anxious
thoughts were either diverted by toil, or drowned in the insensibility
which follows it; they may encounter wounds or death, but women feel a
keener anguish than the body knows; and in the gnawing sense of present
ill, and fear of future misery, suffer a living death more cruel than
that which ends our woes at once." In vain Rose endeavoured to assuage
her grief; she answered, "You have a father to fight and watch for you;
mine-my kind, noble, and honoured parent, lies dead on yonder field."
So saying, she sunk down on the banquette, murmuring to herself, "He
is gone for ever!" One hand grasped unconsciously the weapon which she
held, and served at the same time to prop her forehead, while tears, by
which she was now relieved, flowed in torrents from her eyes, and
her sobs seemed so convulsive, that Rose almost feared her heart was
bursting.

[Illustration: 110-111]

[Illustration: 112]



THE HIGHLAND WIDOW.

THE tale of the "Highland Widow" was included in the first series of the
"Chronicles of the Canongate." It appeared in November 1827, subsequent
to the breaking up of Constable's publishing house.

In the accompanying illustration is presented the striking scene where
Hamish Bean Mac Tavish was urged by his mother to fire upon the military
party who sought to apprehend him. It was evening; the gigantic shadows
of the mountains streamed in darkness towards the east, while their
western peaks were still glowing with crimson and gold. From the road
which wound round Ben Cruachan, five Highland soldiers were fully
visible at the door of the bothy. One walked a little before the others;
this was Serjeant Cameron, who called out, "Hamish Bean Mac Tavish, lay
down your arms and surrender!" At the door of the bothy Hamish stood
like a statue holding his firelock, while his mother standing behind
him, and almost driven to frenzy by the violence of her passions,
reproached him for want of resolution and faintness of heart. Her words
increased the bitter gall which was arising in his spirit, as he saw his
late comrades making towards him like hounds towards the stag at bay.
"The scourge, the scourge, my son, beware the scourge," whispered the
mother. It was enough. Hamish fired his piece, and Serjeant Cameron
dropped dead.



THE TALISMAN.

THE TALISMAN was pronounced by James Ballantyne to be so decided a
masterpiece that "The Betrothed" might venture abroad under its wing.
It relates to that period of the Crusades in which Richard Cour de Lion
evinces his heroism and his cruelty in opposition to the noble qualities
of the brave and generous Saladin.

The accompanying illustration represents the scene in which the Knight
of the Leopard reluctantly introduces the Baron of Gilsland into his
hut. There lay extended his squire under the influence of an Asiatic
fever. Having apologised for the homely appearance of the Scottish
quarter, he proceeded to inquire after the state of the patient. The
person seated beside the sick bed is a Moorish physician whom Saladin
had sent to minister to the malady of King Richard, but whom the
English distrusted, and first made trial of his sincerity and skill
by committing to his care the Squire of Sir Kenneth. As the visitors
entered, the invalid had fallen into a refreshing sleep, from which
El-Hakim assured them he would awake invigorated.

*****

The chapel scene of Sir Kenneth and the dwarf is admirably hit by Mr
Cruikshank. As the knight stood alone in the chapel a shrill whistle
rung sharply. It was a sound ill suited to the place, and reminded Sir
Kenneth that he should be upon his guard. A creaking sound as of a
screw or pulley succeeded, and a light streaming upwards showed that
a trap-door had been raised or depressed. In less than a minute a long
skinny arm, partly naked, partly clothed in a sleeve of red samite,
arose out of the aperture, holding a lamp as high as it could stretch
upwards, and the figure to which the arm belonged ascended step by
step to the level of the floor. The form and face of the being who thus
presented himself were those of a frightful dwarf with a large head, a
cap fantastically adorned with three peacock's feathers, a dress of red
samite, the richness of which rendered his ugliness more conspicuous,
distinguished by gold bracelets and armlets, and a white silk sash, in
which he wore a gold-hilted dagger. The figure held a broom in his
left hand, and with his right moved the lamp over his face and person,
illuminating his wild features and misshapen limbs. The dwarf whistled,
and a second figure ascended in the same manner as the first. It was
a female. Her dress, also of red samite, was fantastically cut and
flounced. She also passed the lamp over her face and person, which
seemed to rival the male in ugliness. Approaching the knight, they
turned the gleam of their lamps upon him, and raised a yelling laugh.
Upon his demanding who they were, he was answered--"I am the dwarf
Nectabanus;" "and I Guenevra, his lady and his love."

"Hush, fools, and begone!" said a voice from the side on which the
knight had entered. The dwarfs heard the command, blew out their lights,
and left the knight in darkness.

[Illustration: 115]

[Illustration: 116]



WOODSTOCK.

THE novel of "Woodstock, or, The Cavalier: a Tale of the Year Sixteen
Hundred and Forty-one," was issued in June 1826, and was the last of
the compositions which were published under the _nominis umbra_ of the
Author of "Waverley." It was composed within the space of three months,
and immediately realised to the estate of the ingenious author, no less
than £8228, less cost of paper and printing the first edition.

The first illustration represents the aged Sir Henry Lee expressing his
blessing over the head of King Charles II. It was evident policy in
the monarch to recognise those who had been faithful to his family when
fortune frowned. The presence of Sir Henry Lee, attended by Bevis, awoke
most grateful feelings in the royal breast. Springing from his horse,
and hastening to the aged gentleman, whom he prevented from rising to do
him homage, amidst the enthusiastic applause of the spectators, he threw
himself at his feet, and said-"Bless, father, bless your son, who has
returned in safety, as you blessed him when he departed in danger."

The King returned, joined the cavalcade, and the gorgeous array again
put in motion, was followed by the watchful eyes of Alice, and the
attendants of Sir Henry, who, on their return, were startled to perceive
"that his cheek had assumed an unearthly paleness; that his eyes were
closed; that his features expressed a rigidity that was not that of
sleep. They had come too late-the light that burned so low in the socket
had leaped up, and expired in one exhilarating flash."

*****

Mr Cruikshank admirably portrays Mr Holdenough's triumph over the
military intruder. Holdenough was in the act of ascending the steps of
the pulpit when one of the soldiers seized him by the cloak saying, "Is
it your purpose to hold forth to these good people?"

"Ay, marry is it," said the clergyman, "let me not in my labour." But
the man of war being himself minded to address the congregation, Mr
Holdenough called out:-"Give place, thou man of Satan; respect mine
order-my cloth." The soldier protested that he perceived no more to
respect in the cut of Mr Holdenough's cloak than he did in the
bishop's rochets-_they_ were black and white; _his_, blue and brown. Mr
Holdenough, finding the enemy incorrigible, called out-"Master Mayor of
Woodstock, wilt thou be amongst those wicked magistrates, who bear the
sword in vain? Citizens, will you not help your pastor? Worthy Alderman,
will you see me strangled on the pulpit-stairs by this man of buff and
Belial? But, lo! I will overcome him, and cast his cords from us." As he
thus spoke, he dexterously slipped the string which fastened his cloak
round his neck, so that the garment suddenly gave way, and the soldier,
who had a tenacious grasp of it, fell backwards, down the steps of the
pulpit; while the divine skipped actively up, and immediately gave forth
a psalm of triumph.

[Illustration: 119]

[Illustration: 120]



THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH.

THE FAIR MAID OF PERTH was published in April 1828, and became popular
at once; it commenced a second series of the "Chronicles of the
Canongate." The narrative is founded upon an interesting event in
Scottish history. Two clans who were at variance deputed thirty
champions to fight out a quarrel of old standing in the presence of
King Robert III., his brother the Duke of Albany, and the whole Scottish
Court, at Perth, in the year 1396. Two characters in the novel, the
glee-maiden and Conachar are regarded as among Scott's very best
conceptions.

The accompanying illustration represents an interesting scene. The Fair
Maid and the Carthusian monk are seated at the foot of Kinnoul hill,
which commands the beautiful vale of the Tay. The monk, who wore his
white gown and scapular, sat for some time with his eyes fixed on the
glorious prospect, of which even the early and chilly season could not
conceal the beauties. At length he addressed his proselyte: "When I
behold this rich and varied land, with its castles, churches, convents,
stately palaces, and fertile fields, these extensive woods, and that
noble river, I know not, my daughter, whether most to admire the bounty
of God or the ingratitude of man. He hath given us the beauty and
fertility of the earth, and we have made the scene of His bounty a
charnel-house and a battle-field. He hath given us power over the
elements, and skill to erect houses for comfort and defence, and we have
converted them into dens for robbers."

"Yet surely, my father, there is room for comfort," replied Catherine.
"Yonder four goodly convents, and their inhabitants, who have separated
themselves from the world for the service of Heaven, bear witness that
if Scotland be a sinful land, she is yet sensible to the claims of
religion."

"Verily, daughter," answered the priest, "what you say seems truth, but
it is to be feared that the love of many has waxed cold."

*****

The second illustration is from the pencil of Cruikshank. The common
people had throughout the day toiled and struggled at football. The
usual revels had taken place, and the carnival was closing quietly in
general, but in some places the sport was still kept up. One company of
revellers seemed unwilling to conclude their frolic. The Entry, as it
was called, consisted of thirteen persons, habited in the same manner,
having doublets of chamois leather sitting close to their bodies,
curiously slashed and laced. They wore green caps with silver tassels,
red ribands, and white shoes, had bells hung at their knees and around
their ankles, and naked swords in their hands. This gallant party,
having exhibited a sword-dance before the king, with much clashing of
weapons, and fantastic interchange of postures, went on gallantly to
repeat their exhibition before the door of Simon Glover, where, having
made a fresh exhibition of their agility, they caused wine to be served
round to their own company and the bystanders, and with a loud shout
drank to the health of the Fair Maid.

[Illustration: 123]

[Illustration: 124]



ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN.

ANNE OF GEIERSTEIN, or the "Maiden of the Mist" was published in May
1829. "It may," writes Mr Lockhart, "be almost called the last work of
Scott's imaginative genius, and it was received at least as well (out of
Scotland, that is), as the 'Fair Maid of Perth' had been, or indeed
as any novel of his after the Crusaders. I partake very strongly, I am
aware, in the feeling which most of my own countrymen have little shame
in avowing, that no novel of his where neither scenery nor character is
Scottish, belongs to the same pre-eminent class with those in which he
paints and peoples his native landscape. I have confessed that I cannot
rank even his best English romances with such creations as 'Waverley'
and 'Old Mortality;' far less can I believe that posterity will attach
similar value to this Maid of the Mist Its pages, however, display in
undiminished perfection all the skill and grace of the mere artist, with
occasional outbreaks of the old poetic spirit, more than sufficient
to remove the work to an immeasurable distance from any of its order
produced in this country in our own age. Indeed, the various plays of
fancy in the combination of persons and events, and the airy liveliness
of both imagery and diction, may well justify us in applying to the
author what he beautifully says of his King René--

     'A mirthful man he was; the snows of age
     Fell, but they did not chill him.

     Gaiety
     Even in life's closing, touch'd his teeming brain
     With such wild visions as the setting sun
     Raises in front of some hoar glacier,
     Painting the bleak ice with a thousand hues.'"

The first of the accompanying illustrations represents Margaret of Anjou
and Arthur Philipson in Strasburg Cathedral. When Philipson, who had
been bred a devoted adherent to the dethroned line of Lancaster, of
which his father was a firm supporter, saw the dauntless widow of
Henry VI., whose courage and policy had upheld the sinking cause of her
husband, he threw his bonnet on the pavement and knelt at the feet of
the injured Queen. Margaret, throwing back the veil which concealed her
majestic features, gave one hand to the young knight, who covered it
with tears and kisses, and with the other endeavoured to raise him from
the posture he had assumed.

[Illustration: 127]

[Illustration: 128]

The second illustration represents "Philipson and the German Innkeeper."
Philipson inquired for the landlord, and was answered by a finger
pointed towards a recess behind the great stove, where, veiled in his
glory, the monarch obscured himself from vulgar gaze. He was short,
stout, bandy-legged, and consequential; his countenance and manner
differing from the merry host of England or of France. Philipson was too
well acquainted with German customs to expect the suppliant qualities of
a French mâitre d' hotel, or the frankness of an English landlord;
but this man's brow was a tragic volume; his answers were short and
repulsive; and the tone as sullen as the tenor.



THE SURGEON'S DAUGHTER.

THE "Surgeon's Daughter" was published in 1827, in the second series of
the "Chronicles of the Canongate." The first plate represents Julia de
Moncada and her father. "Follow me, gentlemen," said Gideon, "and you
shall see the young lady." And then, his strong features working with
emotion at anticipation of the distress which he was about to inflict,
he led the way up the small staircase, and, opening the door, said to
Moncada, who had followed him--"This is your daughter's only place of
refuge, in which I am, alas! too weak to be her protector. Enter, sir,
if your conscience will permit you." The stranger turned on him a scowl,
into which it seemed as if he would willingly have thrown the power of
the fabled basilisk. Then stepping proudly forward, he stalked into the
room. He was followed by Lawford and Gray, at a little distance. The
messenger remained in the doorway. The unhappy young woman heard the
disturbance, and guessed the cause too truly. It is possible she might
have seen the strangers on their descent from the carriage. When they
entered the room, she was on her knees beside an easy-chair. Moncada
uttered a single word, but none knew its import. The female gave a
convulsive shudder, such as that by which a half-dying soldier is
affected in receiving a second wound.

*****

With his wonted humour, Mr Cruikshank has sketched Dr Gideon Gray and
the wives of Middlemas. Gideon Gray, surgeon at Middle-mas, was a plain,
blunt, middle-aged man, with a touch of cynicism about him. Late of an
autumn evening, three old women raced towards his door, accompanied
by some idle young fellows, who were loudly betting on the winner.
"Half-a-mutchkin on Luckie Simson."

"Auld Peg Tamson against the field."

"Mair speed, Alison Jaup, ye'll tak' the wind out of them yet."

"Canny against the hill, lassies, or we may ha'e a burstin' auld carline
amang ye." These, and a thousand such gibes, rent the air, without being
noticed by the anxious racers, whose object of contention seemed to
be which should first reach the doctor's door. Mr Gray, who had just
dismounted from a long journey, hastened downstairs, auguring some
new occasion for his services. He had just reached the door as Luckie
Simson, one of the racers, arrived in the little area before it. She
stood, blowing like a grampus, her loose toy flying back from her face,
making the most violent efforts to speak, but without the power of
uttering a word. Peg Tamson whipped in before her-"The leddy, sir; the
leddy!"

"Instant help! instant help!" screeched, rather than uttered, Alison
Jaup; while Luckie Simson, who had certainly won the race, found words
to claim the prize which had set them all in motion-"And I hope, sir,
you will recommend me to be the sick-nurse; I was here to bring you the
tidings long before ony o' thae lazy queans."

[Illustration: 131]

[Illustration: 132]



COUNT ROBERT OF PARIS.

IN his "Diary," under February 19th, 1826, Sir Walter thus writes:
"Being troubled with thick-coming fancies, and a slight palpitation of
the heart, I have been reading the 'Chronicle of the Good Knight Messire
Jacques de Lalain'-curious, but dull, from the constant repetition of
the same species of combats in the same style and phrase. It is like
washing bushels of sand for a grain of gold..... Still, things occur
to one. Something might be made of a tale of chivalry-taken from the
passage of arms, which Jacques de Lalain maintained for the first day of
every month for a twelvemonth..... This would be light summer work." The
suggestion thus obtained Scott did not carry out for some time. In the
autumn of 1830, he commenced the romance of "Count Robert of Paris,"
which was published in November of the following year. During its
composition, he gave decided indications of failing energies; his
penmanship became shaky, and he misplaced words, but the composition
itself presented no trace of decayed intelligence.

In the first illustration is presented the Varangian, or English exile,
asleep at the Golden Gate of Constantinople. While the exile lay wrapped
in sleep, on the stone benches outside the arch of Theodosius, two women
of the humbler class cast their eyes upon him: "Holy Maria!" said one,
"if he does not put me in mind of the Eastern tale, how a genie brought
a gallant young prince from his nuptial chamber in Egypt, and left him
sleeping at the gate of Damascus! I will awake the poor lamb, lest he
catch harm from the night-dew."

"Harm!" replied the older and crosser-looking woman: "ay, such harm as the
cold water of the Cydnus does to the wild swan. A lamb, forsooth! why,
he is a wolf, or a bear, at least a Varangian, and no modest matron
would exchange a word with such an unmannered barbarian."

*****

The sketch of Brenhilda, Agelastes, and Sylvan, is from the pencil of
Mr Cruikshank. Agelastes, after looking with surprise and horror at the
figures in the glass, turned round his head to examine the substance,
which produced so strange a reflection. The object, however, had
disappeared behind the curtain, under which it had probably lain hid;
and, after a minute or two, the half-gibing, half-growling countenance
showed itself again in the same position in the mirror. "By the gods,"
exclaimed the philosopher, "it is Sylvan! that mockery of humanity,
but who shrinks before a philosopher as ignorance before knowledge." So
speaking, he struck the animal a heavy blow; which so enraged him,
that he flew on the man of letters, clasped him round the throat, and
compressed it until life was extinct.

[Illustration: 135]

[Illustration: 136]





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