tans: this monarch; who, referring to this matter, I complete set of the self-same conspicuous tarsaid, "I shall always reflect with pleasure on Sir Walter Scott's (baronetcy) being the first creation of my reign." This was in 1820, in the very meridian of Scott's popularity and intellectual power. Scott's reverence for George IV was carried to a ridiculous excess. He described him as "the first English gentleman of the day," and the very best teller of anecdotes and short stories that he ever met with. It was during one of these London visits (1815) that he anet Lord Byron, for the first time, and the two poets contracted a mutual respect, which lasted as long as they lived. In London, Scott, at the table of his friends, came in contact with some strange characters. To one of these he refers in the following extract from his diary, under the date of December 9th, 1825 : "The gay world has been kept in hot water lately by the impudent publication of the celebrated Harriet Wilson-who, punk from earliest possibility, I suppose, has lived with half the gay world at hack and manger, and now obliges such as will not pay hush-money with a history of whatever she knows, or can invent, about them. *** I think I supped once in her company, more than twenty years since, at Mat Lewis's, in Argyle Street, where the company, as the Duke says to Lució, chanced to be fairer than honest. She was far from beautiful, if it be the same chiffonne; but a smart, saucy girl, with good eyes, and dark hair, and the manners of a wild schoolboy. I am glad this accident has escaped her memory, for, being a sort of French falconer, who hawks at all they see, I might have had a distinction which I am far from desiring.' When, in 1822, George IV visited Edinburgh, the principal task of arranging the monarch's reception, and making everything pleasant, devolved upon Scott; and it was conceded on all hands that he acquitted himself to perfection. Though, on the whole, the arrangements for the reception of the monarch were admirably carried out, and gave perfect satisfaction, both to the royal guest and to Scott, who had the principal superintendence of them, yet there occurred one or two mishaps which had a decided tendency to impart a ludicrous appearance to what was intended to be dignified and impressive, and which, though they greatly annoyed both the King and Sir Walter, were highly amusing to the rest of the community. One of these laughable incidents consisted in the loyal crowd, assembled to do reverence to King George, mistaking Sir William Curtis, a tall and portly alderman of the City of London, for his excessively stout and most sacred Majesty, and thus wasting upon a mere municipal dignitary the loyal and enthusiastic cheers which of right belonged to the anointed sovereign of the Great British empire. The cause and manner of this memorable instance of mistaken identity were as follows: The King at one of his levees diverted many, and delighted Scott, by appearing in the full Highland garb-the same brilliant Stuart Tartans, so called, in which, certainly, no Stuart, except Prince Charles, had ever before presented himself in the saloons of Holyrood. His Majesty's Keltic toilette had been carefully watched and assisted by the gallant laird of Garth, who was not a little proud of the result of his dexterous manipulation of the royal plaid, and pronounced the King to be a "verà pretty man." And certainly the King did look a most stately and imposing person in that beautiful dress. But his satisfaction therein was cruelly disturbed, when his Majesty discovered, towering and blazing among and above the genuine Glengarries, and Macleods, and MacGregors, a figure even more portly than his own, equipped, from a sudden impulse of loyal ardour, in an equally "He caught Sir William Curtis in a kilt, While thronged the Chiefs of every Highland clan To hail their brother, Vich Ian Alderman." In truth, this portentous apparition cast an air of ridicule and caricature over the whole of Sir Walter's keltified pageantry. A sharp little bailie from Aberdeen, who had previously made acquaintance with the worthy Guildhall baronet, and tasted the turtle-soup of the City of London, tortured Sir William as he sailed down the long gallery of Holyrood, by suggesting that, after all, his (Sir William's) costume was not quite perfect. The worthy alderman, who had been rigged out "regardless of expense," exclaimed that he must be mistaken, begged he would explain his criticism, and, as he spoke, threw a glance of admiration on a "skene dhu" (black knife), which, like a true "warrior and hunter of deer," he had stuck into one of his garters. Oo ay, oo ay," quoth the Aberdonian; the knife's a richt mon; but faar's your speen?" (where's your spoon.) This alleged conversation between the Aberdeen bailie and the London alderman was told by Scott to the King, for (as Lockart insinuates) the purpose of restoring the King's good-humour, so grievously shaken by the corpulent alderman's ludicrous resemblance to himself. Another important event in the life of Scott, was his first visit to the French capital, in 1815. Paris was then occupied by the victorious allies, and all France lay prostrate and exhausted after her gigantic efforts at universal dominion. To superficial lookers-on, it seemed as if never again would the peace of Europe or the balance of power be in any serious danger from anything that the grand nation could do to disturb them. Not so, however, to the eyes of Scott; who, though in domestic politics his views were as shortsighted and as worthless as a common. place country "Squire," could see and judge important European questions with the eye and the mind of a true statesman. Referring to the abject and apparently helpless condition of France, he writes:-" Yet this country will soon recover the actual losses she has sustained; for never was there a soil so blessed by nature, or so rich in corn, and wine, and oil, and in the animated industry of its inhabitants. France is at present the fabled giant, struggling, or rather lying supine, under the load of mountains which have been precipitated on her; but she is not, and cannot be, crushed. Remove the incumbent weight of 600,000 or 700,000 foreigners, and she will soon stand upright-happy, if experience shall have taught her,-to be contented to exert her natural strength only for her own protection, and not for the annoyance of her neighbours. He At Paris, he received the most courteous attentions from Lords Cathcart, Aberdeen, and Castlereagh. Sir John Malcolm introduced him to the Duke of Wellington; who then, and ever afterwards, treated him with a kindness and confidence which Scott, whose reverence for the vanquisher of Napoleon verged on idolatry, considered "the highest distinction of his life." was also introduced to the Emperor Alexander, who, glancing at his lame foot, took it for granted that he had served in the army, and been wounded in some battle. Scott was amused at the Czar's mistake; but, in reply to the Emperor's inquiry, "In what affair were you wounded?" gave his Majesty to understand that his lameness was the result of natural infirmity. "But," retorted the Emperor, "Lord Cathcart gave me to understand that you had served." Lord Cathcart, upon this, looked rather embarrassed; but Sir Walter came to his lord ship's aid, by promptly answering, "Oh, yes; in a certain sense, I have served-that is, in the yeomanry cavalry,-a home force, resembling the Landwher or Landsturn." Under what commander?" The Chevalier Rae," (Sir William Rac.) "In some slight actions-such as the battle of the Cross Causeway, and the affair of Moredunhill," replied Sir Walter; who, glancing at Lord Cathcart's face, saw that he had said quite sufficient about his military exploits, so he managed to turn the conversation to some other subject. Next day, when Scott and Mr. Pringle, a friend of his, were walking together in the Rue de la Paix, the Hetman Platoff happened to come up, cantering with some of his Cossacks. As soon as he saw Scott, he jumped off his, horse, and, running up to him, kissed him on each side of the cheek with extraordinary demonstrations of affection. Platoff then made him understand, through an aide-de-camp, that he wished him to join his staff at the next great review, when he would take care to mount him on the gentlest of his Ukraine horses. Scott received more attention from the Hetman Platoff and Marshal Blucher than from any foreign general; and yet, the probabilities are, that neither of them had read one line of his poetry or prose works. In 1825, Sir Walter paid a visit to Ireland, where he was most hospitably received, and with the people and scenery of which he was in the highest degree delighted. The The following year, 1826, was, in some respects, the most important, and, in all things, the most disastrous, in Sir Walter's life. He had been a partner, first in the printing and publishing firms of John and James Ballantyne, and afterwards in that of Constable and Co. In the financial crisis that occurred in that year, these firms, as well as many others, became bankrupt to immense amounts. As a partner, Scott was responsible to the creditors, and the earnings of a laborious lifetime were all swallowed up. alluring vision of being the founder of a great territorial family dissolved into thin air. But though heartbroken, he did not despair. He set himself manfully to work to pay all his creditors; and by the disposal of copyrights, and exertions the most arduous, he, at the Christmas of 1827, succeeded in paying a dividend of six shillings in the pound. The result of his heroic endeavours, between January, 1826, and January 1828, was the enormous sum of £40,000! Well may his son-in-law observe, "No literary biographer, in all likelihood, will ever have such a fact to record." His financial embarassments necessitated his acknowledgment of the authorship of the "Waverley Novels," which til! then were published anonymously, and which circumstance, owing to their immense popularity, excited a great deal of controversy as to their author. Scott had a strong liking for mystery implanted in his nature. He delighted in puzzling his friends and the public on subjects of this description. At the same time, more was made of the anonymous authorship of his prose fictions than was at all necessary-for in literary circles there was hardly the shadow of a doubt as to who the "Great Unknown" was, long before his public avowal of the "sold and undivided" authorship of the tales in question, in 1827. The great misfortune of 1826 broke the spirit, and shattered the health, of Sir Walter. In 1831, he was advised to reside in the south of Italy, on account of the delicate state of his health. A government frigate was placed at his disposal; and in October, 1831, he embarked at Portsmouth, on board the Barham, one of the finest frigates in the navy; and after a short sojourn at Malta, arrived at Naples on the 27th of December. Here he resided till the following April, when, feeling himself dying, he set out for Scotland, paying a visit to Rome on his journey. On the 11th of July, 1832, he found himself once more at his beloved Abbotsford, surrounded by his sorrowing family, who were now alive to the mournful fact that the earthly existence of one of the kindest fathers and most faithful friends that ever lived was to be numbered by days, if not by hours and minutes. By this time, the once stalwart and vigorous frame was completely helpless. His mind, also, was evidently entraced with other than the material realities around him. He had great difficulty in recognising the scenes and persons most familiar to him. He had, however, some lucid intervals, in which the overtasked brain flashed forth sparks of its wonted keen and penetrating intelligence. Arrived at his own door, his land-steward, Laidlaw, was waiting for him at the porch, and assisted in lifting him into the dining-room. Sir Walter sat bewildered for a few moments; and then, resting his eye on Laidlaw, recognised him, and exclaimed, "Ha, Willie Laidlaw! O man, how often I have thought of you!" By this time, his dogs had assembled about his chair, and began to fawn upon him and lick his hands, and he alternately sobbed and smiled over them, until, weary and worn out, he fell asleep. It was not, however, until the 21st of September, 1832, about half-past one p.m., that Sir Walter Scott breathed his last, in the presence of all his children. Three days before his death, in one of his intervals of consciousness, he said to his son-in-law, who was standing by his bedside, "Lockhart, I may have but a minute to speak to you. My dear, be a good man-be virtuousbe religious-be a good man. Nothing else will give you comfort when you come to lie here." These were almost the last words of this good and great Sir Walter Scott. A post-mortem examination showed the there was a slight softening of the brain, but his death was the result of the complete, though gradual, decay of his whole vital powers. On the 26th of September he was buried in Dryburgh Abbey, by the side of his wife, in the sepulchre of his an cestors. Sir Walter Scott had four children, two of whom were sons. Walter, the elder, who succeeded his father in the title, was a lieutenantcolonel in the 15th Hussars. Charles became a clerk in the Foreign Office. Sophie, the eldest daughter, was married to John Lockhart, Esq., M.P., for many years editor of the "Quarterly Review," and a poet, novelist, essayist, and translator of no ordinary power. Annie, his second daughter, died unmarried. Sir Walter, who had an idolatrous veneration for ancestral honours, and whose great ambition was to be the founder of a powerful family of the name of Scott, has no living descendant in the male line. His fame, therefore, exclusively rests upon the progeny of his brain; and his name and memory are as durable as the English language. AUTHOR'S PREFACE. THE Poem now offered to the public, is intended to illustrate the customs and manners which anciently prevailed on the Borders of England and Scotland. The inhabitants, living in a state partly pastoral and partly warlike, and combining habits of constant depredation with the influence of a rude spirit of chivalry, were often engaged in scenes highly susceptible of poetical ornament. As the description of scenery and manners was more the object of the Author, than a combined and regular narrative, the plan of the ancient metrical romance was adopted, which allows greater latitude, in this respect, than would be consistent with the dignity of a regular Poem. The same model offered other facilities, as it permits an occasional alteration of measure, which, in some degree, authorises the changes of rhythm in the text. The machinery also, adopted from popular belief, would have seemed puerile in a Poem, which did not partake of the rudeness of the old Ballad, or Metrical Romance. For these reasons, the Poem was put into the mouth of an ancient Minstrel, the last of the race, who, as he is supposed to have survived the Revolution, might have caught somewhat of the refinement of modern poetry, without losing the simplicity of his original model. The date of the tale itself is about the middle of the sixteenth century, when most of the personages actually fiourished. The time occupied by the action is three nights and three days. 1 INTRODUCTION. THE way was long, the wind was cold, For, well-a-day! their date was filed, The unpremeditated lay: Old times were changed, old manners gone Had called his harmless art a crime. He passed where Newark's stately tower When kindness had its wants supplied, Of good Earl Francis,† dead and gone, * Anne, Duchess of Buccleuch and Monmouth, representative of the ancient Lords of Buccleuch, and widow of the unfortunate James, Duke of Monmouth, who was beheaded in 1685. Francis Scott, Earl of Buccleuch, father of the Duchess. And of Earl Walter,* rest him God He could make music to her ear. The humble boon was soon obtained; Amid the strings his fingers strayed, In varying cadence, soft or strong, *Walter, Earl of Bucclench, grandfather of the Duchess, and a celebrated warrior. |