Charles S. Olcott

The Country of Sir Walter Scott


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with many of them, gave to my admiration a sort of intense impression of reverence, which at times made my heart feel too big for its bosom. From this time the love of natural beauty, more especially when combined with ancient ruins, or remains of our fathers' piety or splendour, became with me an insatiable passion, which, if circumstances had permitted, I would willingly have gratified by travelling over half the globe.

      It was with something of this same feeling that the poet caused Marmion to travel from Norham to Edinburgh by a circuitous route, in order that he might visit Crichton and afterward view Edinburgh from the Blackford Hills. Mr. Guthrie Wright, a friend and relative of Scott's friend, Erskine, once asked the poet: 'Why did ever mortal coming from England to Edinburgh go by Gifford, Crichton Castle, Borthwick Castle, and over the top of Blackford Hill? Not only is it a circuitous detour, but there never was a road that way since the world was created!' 'That is a most irrelevant objection,' said Sir Walter; 'it was my good pleasure to bring Marmion by that route, for the purpose of describing the places you have mentioned, and the view from Blackford Hill—it was his business to find the road and pick his steps the best way he could.'

      At Crichton, Marmion heard from Sir David Lindsay a legend of King James and the Palace of Linlithgow.

      Of all the palaces so fair

       Built for the royal dwelling

       In Scotland, far beyond compare

       Linlithgow is excelling.

      This famous palace, now a ruin, lies about midway between Edinburgh and Glasgow. It is beautifully situated on a small loch, from the opposite shores of which it makes an imposing appearance. The walls are in a good state of preservation and still give some intimations of the early magnificence of the royal residence. Three of the Stuart kings, James III, IV, and V, occupied it in succession. Mary, Queen of Scots, was born here in what was once a large and beautiful room. On the opposite side of the building is a room ninety-eight feet long and thirty feet wide, formerly used by the Scottish Parliaments, and the scene of many a state banquet. At one end is an immense fireplace which still remains in almost perfect condition. In the large court are the remains of a fine fountain, with elaborate carvings, erected by James V in anticipation of his marriage with the Princess Madeleine of France. The most striking feature of the palace is Queen Margaret's Bower, a lofty turret, where it is said the Queen watched all day for her husband's return from Flodden Field, only to learn of his disastrous defeat and death. As I stood on the parapet opposite the bower, preparing to make its photograph, the custodian reminded me that I was standing where many famous people used to promenade.

      Adjoining the palace is the ancient church of St. Michael's, where, according to Lindsay's story, King James received the ghostly visitor in the semblance of the Apostle John, bearing the prophetic warning:—

      'My mother sent me from afar,

       Sir King, to warn thee not to war—

       Woe waits on thine array;

       If war thou wilt, of woman fair,

       Her witching wiles and wanton snare,

       James Stuart, doubly warned, beware:

       God keep thee as he may!'

      From Crichton the journey to the Scottish camp was resumed, and the party now traverses ground even more familiar to the poet:—

      Early they took Dun-Edin's road,

       And I could trace each step they trode;

       Hill, brook, nor dell, nor rock, nor stone,

       Lies on the path to me unknown.

      Over this well-worn road they reached the top of Blackford Hill, and the view that met their eyes aroused an enthusiasm that even Marmion, sullen warrior that he was, could scarcely suppress. The Scottish camp, lying on the plain below, is painted in all the colours of the rainbow:—

      A thousand streamers flaunted fair;

       Various in shape, device, and hue,

       Green, sanguine, purple, red, and blue.

      The city, too, is pictured in colours no less vivid and glows 'with gloomy splendour, red.' The Ochil Mountains, reflecting the morning rays are like a 'purple amethyst'; the islands in the Firth are like 'emeralds chased in gold'; and a 'dusky grandeur clothed the height, where the huge castle holds its state.'

      The scene which Marmion saw, the poet admits, was far different in his own time; and it has changed, perhaps, even more since Sir Walter's day, for the plain where King James's army lay is now filled with well-built cottages. But the dominating features of the view, the huge castle on the left, Arthur's Seat and the Salisbury Crags on the right, Calton Hill, and the crown-shaped steeple of St. Giles still remain to command our admiration and delight.

       TANTALLON CASTLE TANTALLON CASTLE

      Passing through the Scottish camp, Marmion and his train soon came to Holyrood Palace. The tower on the left was built by James IV as a royal palace in 1498–1503. In the latter year it was the scene of the marriage of the King to Princess Margaret, the daughter of Henry VII of England. The wedding was celebrated with great magnificence. Here Marmion is received by the King, who, on the night before marching to the south, is making Holyrood ring with 'wassail, mirth, and glee.' He is devoting much attention to the wife of Sir Hugh the Heron, who sings for him the song of the young Lochinvar. A glance, thrown by 'the witching dame' to Marmion, arouses the jealous displeasure of the King, and Marmion is hurried off to Tantallon Castle, under conduct of the owner of that stronghold, Douglas, Earl of Angus, known as Archibald Bell-the-Cat. Tantallon is on the north coast of Haddingtonshire, near the town of North Berwick. The ruins still remain,

      Broad, massive, high, and stretching far.

       They stand on a high, projecting rock, guarded on three sides by the ocean, while on the land side the remnant of the 'double mound and fosse' may still be seen. The castle was a favourite residence of the Douglas family, though its fame owes less to history than to the genius of Sir Walter. It was here that Marmion dared

      To beard the lion in his den

       The Douglas in his hall—

      and in defiance of Lord Angus gave utterance to one of those dramatic passages which have made the poem linger so long in the memory of all its readers. This is one of the chief characteristics of Scott's poetry, that certain lines will insist upon 'running in one's head.' George Ellis pointed out the significant fact that 'everybody reads Marmion more than once' and that it improves on second reading. Perhaps this is why so many people can quote freely from the poem, particularly such passages as the quarrel of Marmion and Douglas.

      From Tantallon, Marmion and his men, with the Lady Clare, proceed to Flodden Field, reaching at eve the convent of Lennel where 'now is left but one frail arch.' This resting place is on the river Tweed just below the town of Coldstream and not far from the famous ford at the mouth of the river Leet, used by Edward I in the invasion of Scotland near the close of the thirteenth century and by the contending armies of England and Scotland for nearly four hundred years afterward. Over this ford Marmion rushes impetuously to throw himself into the thick of the battle.

      Then on that dangerous ford and deep

       Where to the Tweed Leet's eddies creep

       He ventured desperately:

       And not a moment will he bide Till squire or groom before him ride; Headmost of all he stems the tide, And stems it gallantly.

      Sir Walter wrote this passage, and many more like it, from experience, for it was one of his chief delights to ford a stream. James Skene said he believed there was not a single ford in the whole course of the Tweed that he and Scott had not traversed together. 'He had an amazing fondness for fords, and was not a little adventurous in plunging through, whatever might be the state of the flood, and this even though there happened to be a bridge in view. If it seemed possible to scramble through, he scorned to go ten yards about, and in fact preferred the ford.' There was a ford at Ashestiel that was never a good one. At one