SIR WALTER SCOTT (1771-1832) Scott's birthplace was Edinburgh. His father, a solicitor of creditable standing, had been the first of his family to adopt a town life, and Scott early evinced an innate attraction toward those ancestors who for centuries had linked their history with the stirring life of the Border. 'You will find me a rattle-skulled, half-lawyer, half-sportsman, through whose head a regiment of horse has been exercising since he was five years old,' he once wrote to a stranger. Lameness derived from a fever kept him inactive as a child and he was dreamy and fond of reading. As he grew up he entered robustly into outdoor sports; but his choicest pastime was cruising about the country-side after relics of folklore. Passing through the High-School and the College in Edinburgh, he studied law and, in 1792, became an advocate. His taste for country residence led him to settle on the Esk at Lasswade after his marriage in 1798, and from here as Sheriff of Selkirkshire, he removed to Ashestiel on the Tweed, in 1804. His Border Minstrelsy had appeared in 1802, and now his poems, Lay of the Last Minstrel (1805), Marmion (1808), Lady of the Lake (1810), and others in quick sequence began to supplement his profession as a means of livelihood. In 1812 he succeeded to a salary of £1300 as clerk of session, and he proceeded to materialize his dream of a feudal estate by purchasing, as nucleus, a hundred acres of rough land five miles down the Tweed at Abbotsford. Thither he removed with twenty-five cartloads of the veriest trash in nature, besides dogs, pigs, ponies, poultry, cows, calves'; be gives an amusing and significant account of the procession of my furniture, in which old swords, bows, targets, and lances, made a very conspicuous show. A family of turkeys was accommodated within the helmet of some preux chevalier of ancient border fame; and the very cows, for aught I know, were bearing banners and muskets.' From Abbotsford came the series of historical novels, beginning with Waverly (1814) and closing with Castle Dangerous (1831,- twenty-nine novels in half as many years. The quantity of energy which Scott poured into these works of fiction, to say nothing of his Edition of Swift and Life of Napoleon, while discharging his official duties and engaging in all the activities of a country-gentleman, is almost inconceivable. In addition, the work of his last years was done in sharp adversity. Soon after his marriage he had entered into a secret partnership with James and John Ballantyne, publishers of Edinburgh, and this business had been complicated with that of Constable and Co. His partners were feeble managers; only the extraordinary success of the novels had tided over a crisis for several years. It is estimated that Scott's writings earned him, during his lifetime, nearly a million dollars; but his outlay at Abbotsford and in other directions had been excessively lavish, and greatly increased after he was knighted in 1820. The crash came in 1825; Constable, the Ballantynes, and Scott went down together. From the age of fifty-five to sixty, in spite of breaking health and failing imagination, he wrought doggedly with his pen to pay off £117,000 of debt. When the end came nearly half the debt remained; but this was extinguished by his copyrights after his death. In any event, Scott's character would have lived as one signally illustrious and lovable; his last years conferred upon it the quality of heroism. The real sweep and variety of his genius is denoted in his novels. His poetry is, nevertheless, animated and stirring, and well exemplifies his power of delineating, with bold, free strokes, scenic background and enterprising action. While in Tantallon's towers I stayed, Part we in friendship from your land, And, noble earl, receive my hand.'But Douglas round him drew his cloak, Folded his arms, and thus he spoke :'My manors, halls, and bowers shall still Be open at my sovereign's will To each one whom he lists, howe'er Unmeet to be the owner's peer. My castles are my king's alone, From turret to foundation-stone The hand of Douglas is his own, And never shall in friendly grasp The hand of such as Marmion clasp.' Burned fire Marmion's swarthy cheek And shook his very frame for ire, AndThis to me!' he said, like 30 So swore I, and I swear it still, Let my boy-bishop fret his fill.Saint Mary mend my fiery mood! 'An't were not for thy hoary beard, And if thou saidst I am not peer Lord Angus, thou hast lied!' 35 40 50 On the earl's cheek the flush of rage To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall? And hopest thou hence unscathed to Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood, I thought to slay him where he stood. 'Tis pity of him too,' he cried: 'Bold can he speak and fairly ride, I warrant him a warrior tried.' With this his mandate he recalls, And slowly seeks his castle halls. 85 90 100 The day in Marmion's journey wore; 105 110 1 Lest the reader should partake of the Earl's astonishment and consider the crime as inconsistent with the manners of the period, I have to remind him of the numerous forgeries (partly executed by a female assistant) devised by Robert of Artois, to forward his suit against the Countess Matilda; which, being detected, occa. sioned his flight into England, and proved the remote cause of Edward the Third's memorable wars in France. John Harding, also, was expressly hired by Edward IV to forge such documents as might appear to establish the claim of fealty asserted over Scotland by the English monarchs. Ere yet the bands met Marmion's eye, 245 Lord Surrey's o'er the Till ! — Yet more! yet more! - how fair arrayed They file from out the hawthorn shade, 250 And sweep so gallant by! With all their banners bravely spread, And listen to our lord's behest.'- Himself he swift on horseback threw, 260 265 He scarce will yield to please a daw; Lord Angus may the abbot awe, 275 So Clare shall bide with me.' And not a moment will he bide Till squire or groom before him ride; 280 Headmost of all he stems the tide, And stems it gallantly. Eustace held Clare upon her horse, Old Hubert led her rein, Stoutly they braved the current's course, 285 And, though far downward driven perforce, The southern bank they gain. Behind them straggling came to shore, As best they might, the train: Each o'er his head his yew-bow bore, 290 A caution not in vain; Deep need that day that every string, By wet unharmed, should sharply ring. 300 335 340 Stout Stanley fronts their right, My sons command the vaward post, With Brian Tunstall, stainless knight; Lord Dacre, with his horsemen light, Shall be in rearward of the fight, And succor those that need it most. Now gallant Marmion, well I know, Would gladly to the vanguard go; Edmund, the Admiral, Tunstall there, With thee their charge will blithely share; The fight thine own retainers too Beneath De Burg, thy steward true.' 'Thanks, noble Surrey!' Marmion said, Nor further greeting there he paid, But, parting like a thunderbolt, First in the vanguard made a halt, Where such a shout there rose Of 'Marmion! Marmion!' that the cry, Up Flodden mountain shrilling high, Startled the Scottish foes. Blount and Fitz-Eustace rested still With Lady Clare upon the hill, 345 350 355 On which for far. the day was spent - 395 At length the freshening western blast But nought distinct they see: Wild and disorderly. 405 365 370 And sudden, as he spoke, From the sharp ridges of the hill, All downward to the banks of Till, Was wreathed in sable smoke. Volumed and vast, and rolling far, The cloud enveloped Scotland's war As down the hill they broke; Nor martial shout, nor minstrel tone, Announced their march; their tread alone, At times one warning trumpet blown, At times a stifled hum, Told England, from his mountain-throne Scarce could they hear or see their foes 375 fight. |