The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott ... With a memoir of the author. Illustrated by many engravings, etc

Front matter

POETEY OF SIE WALTEE SCOTT. :ir H Fae-trum .. ;- .-burgh WALT IS IS. SCOTT. -..S.C BIA-CTS, EB1NB__G_ 18 5 : a l w/€jm\\Ti 1.TEK ] il _._)£■ lfZ7i_^7i__rr A_jt. Jfriiry 1 -_-_•___ ' //AZyr,,/ ■ THE POETICAL WORKS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT, Baet. I-TCLDDIKO HIS GREAT METRICAL ROMANCES COPYRIGHT LYRICAL PIECES MISCELLANEOUS POEMS AND BALLADS. WITH A MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. ILLUSTRATED BV MANY ENGRAVINGS ON STEEL AND WOOD. EDINBURGHadam AND CHAELES BLACK, NORTH BRIDGE. MDCCCLV-I. CONTENTS. Page Memoir of Sir Walter Scott 7-19 The Lay of the Last Minstrel 21-100 Notes 661-670 Marmion 101-233 Notes 671-696 The Lady of the Lake 235-344 Notes 697-707 The Vision of Don Roderick 345-368 Notes 708-714 Rokeby 369-479 Notes 715-726 TnE Lord of the Isles 481-580 Notes 727-742 Songs, Lyrical Pieces, Mlscellaneoc3 Poems, A.-D Ballads 581-658 Notes 743-747 Sœ Walter Scott was born at Edinburgh on the 15th of August 1771, the same day which gave birth to Napoleon Bonaparte.

" My birth," says he, " was neither distinguished nor sordid. According to the prejudices of my country, it was esteemed gentle, as I was connected, though remotely, with ancient families, both by my father's and mother's side." His paternal great-grandfather — a cadet of the border family of Harden — was sprung in the fourteenth century from the great house of Buccleuch ; bis grandfather became a farmer in Roxburghshire ; and his father, Walter Scott, was a writer to the signet in the Scottish capital. His mother, Anne Rutherford, was the daughter of one of the medical professors in the university of Edinburgh. Neither Scott's poetical turn nor his extraordinary powers of memory seem to have been inherited from either of his parents. His early years displayed little precocity of talent ; and the uneventful tenor of his childhood and youth seemed little calculated to awaken in his mind a love of the imagin ative or romantic.

Before he had completed his second year, delicacy of con stitution, and lameness which proved permanent, assailed him, and soon afterwards caused his removal to the country. There, at his grandfather's farm-house of Sandyknowe, situated be neath the crags of a ruined baronial tower, and overlooking a district famous in border-history, the poet passed his childhood till about bis eighth year, with scarcely any interruption but a year at Bath. At this early age was evinced his warm sympathy with the beauty and grandeur of nature ; and the ballads and legends, recited to him amid the scenes in which their events were laid, co-operated in after-days with family and national pride to decide the bent of the border-minstrel's fancy. His health being partially confirmed, he was recalled home; and from the end of 1778 till 1783 his education was conducted in the High School of Edinburgh, with the assistance of a tutor resident in his father's house.

Preface

TO THE FIEST EDITION. 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 tlie description of scenery and manners was more the object of the Autho-r 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 change of rhythm in the text.

The machines, 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 Mitistrel, the last of the race, who, as he is supposed to have sur vived the Revolution, might have caught somewhat of the refinement of modeim poetry, without losing the simplicity of his original model. The date of the Tale itself is about the middle of the six teenth century, when most of the personages actually flourished. The time occupied by tke action is Three Nights and Three Day.*.

Introduction

TO EDITION 1830. A Poem of nearly thirty years' standing may be supposed hardly to need an Introduction, since, without one, it has been able to keep itself afloat through the best part of a generation. Nevertheless, as, in the edition of the Waverley Novels now in course of publication, [1830,] I have imposed on myself the task of saying something concerning the purpose and history of each, in their turn, 1 am desirous that the Poems for which I first received some marks of the public favour, should also be accompanied with such scraps of their literary history as may be supposed to carry interest along with them. Even if I should be mistaken in thinking that the secret history of what was once so popular, may still attract public attention and curiosity, it seems to me not without its use to record the manner and cir cumstances under which the present, and other Poems on the same plan, attained for a season an extensive reputation.

I must resume the story of my literary labours at the period at which I broke off in the Essay on the Imitation of Popular Poetry, when I had enjoyed the first gleam of public favour, by the success of the first edition of the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. The second edition of that work, published in 1803, proved, in the language of the trade, rather a heavy concern. The demand in Scotland had been supplied by the first edition, and the curiosity of the English was not much awakened by poems in the rude garb of antiquity, accompanied with notes referring to the obscure feuds of barbarous clans, of whose, very names civilized history was ignorant. It was, on the whole, one of those books which are more praised than they are read. At this time I stood personally in a different position from that which I occupied when I first dipt my desperate pen in ink for other purposes than those of my profession.

In 1796, when I first published the Translations from Burger, I was an insu lated individual, with only my own wants to provide for, and having, in a great measure, my own inclinations alone to consult. In 1803, when the second edition of the Minstrelsy appeared, I had arrived at a period of life when men, however thoughtless, encounter duties and circumstances which press consideration and plans of life upon the most careless minds. I had been for some time married — was the father of a rising family — and, though fully enabled to meet the consequent demands^ upon me, it was my duty and desire to place myself in a situation which would enable me to make honourable provision against the various contingencies of life. It may be readily supposed that the attempts which I had made in literature had been unfavourable to my success at the Bar.

The goddess Themis is, at Edinburgh, and I suppose everywhere else, of a peculiarly jealous disposition. She will not readily consent to share her authority, and sternly demands from her votaries, not only that real duty be carefully attended to and discharged, but that a certain air of business shall be observed even in the midst of total idleness. It is prudent, if not absolutely necessary, in a young barrister, to appear com pletely engrossed by his profession ; however destitute of em ployment he may in reality be, he ought to preserve, if possible, the appearance of full occupation. He should, therefore, seem perpetually engaged among his law papers, dusting them, as it were ; and, as Ovid advises the fair, " Si nullus erit pulvia, tamen excute nullum."a Perhaps such extremity of attention is more especially required, considering the great number of counsellors who are called to the Bar, and how very small a proportion of them are finally dis posed, or find encouragement, to follow the law as a profession.

Hence the number of deserters is so great, that the least linger ing look behind occasions a young novice to be set down as one of the intending fugitives. Certain it is, that the Scottish Themis was at this time peculiarly jealous of any flirtation with the Muses, on the part of those who had ranged themselves under her ban ners. This was probably owing to her consciousness of the supe - rior attractions of her rivals. Of late, however, she has relaxed in some instances in this particular — an eminent example of which has been shown in the case of my friend Mr. Jeffrey, who, after long conducting one of the most influential literary periodi cals of the age, with unquestionable ability, has been, by the general consent of his brethren, recently elected to be their Dean of Faculty, or President — being the highest acknowledgment of his professional talents which they had it in their power to offer.

But this is an incident much beyond the ideas of a period of thirty vears' distance, when a barrister who really possessed any turn for lighter literature, was at as much pains to conceal it as if it had in reality been something to be ashamed of; and I could mention more than one instance in which literature and society have suffered much loss, that jurisprudence might be enriched. Such, however, was not my case; for the reacer will not won der that my open interference with matters of light literature di minished my employment in the weightier matters of the law. Nor did the solicitors, upon whose choice the counsel takes rank in his profession, do me less than justice, by regarding others among my contemporaries as fitter to discharge" the duty due to their clients, ■ " If dust be none, yet brush that none away."

LAT OF THE LAST MINSTREL. than a young man who was taken up with running after ballads, whether Teutonic or National. My profession and I, therefore, came to stand nearly upon the footing which honest Slender con soled himself on having established with Mistress Anne Page ; u There was no great love between us at the beginning, and it pleased Heaven to decrease it on farther acquaintance." I became sensible that the time was come when I must either buckle my self resolutely to the " toil by day, the lamp by night," renouncing all the Delilahs of my imagination, or bid adieu to the profession of the law, and hold another course. I confess my own inclination revolted from the more severe choice, which might have been deemed by many the wiser alter native. As my transgressions had been numerous, my repentance must have been signalized by unusual sacrifices.

I ought to have mentioned, that since my fourteenth or fifteenth year, my health, originally delicate, had become extremely robust. From infancy I had laboured under the infirmity of a severe lameness, but, as I believe is usually the case with men of spirit who suffer under personal inconveniences of this nature, I had, since the improve ment of my health, in defiance of this incapacitating circumstance, distinguished myself by the endurance of toil on foot or horseback, having often walked thirty miles a-day, and rode upwards of a hundred, without resting. In this manner I made many pleasant journeys through parts of the country then not very accessible, gaining more amusement and instruction than I have been able to acquire since I have travelled in a more commodious manner. I practised most silvan sports also, with some success, and with great delight.

But these pleasures must have been all resigned, or used with great moderation, had I determined to regain my station at the Bar, It was even doubtful whether I could, with perfect character as a jurisconsult, retain a situation in a volunteer corps of cavalry, which I then held. The threats of invasion were at this time instant and menacing ; the call by Britain on her children was universal, and was answered by some, who, like my self, consulted rather their desire than their ability to bear arms. My services, however, were found useful in assisting to maintain the discipline of the corps, being the point on which their consti tution rendered them most amenable to military criticism. In other respects, the squadron was a fine one, consisting chiefly of handsome men, well mounted and armed at their own expense.

My attention to the corps took up a good deal of time; and while it occupied many of the happiest hours of my life, it fur nished an additional reason for my reluctance again to encounter the severe course of study indispensable to success in the juridical profession. On the other hand, my father, whose feelings might have been hurt by my quitting the Bar, had been for two or three years dead, so that I had no control to thwart my own inclination ; and my income being equal to all the comforts, and some of the elegancies, of life, I was not pressed to an irksome labour by necessity, that most powerful of motives; consequently, I was the more easily seduced to choose the employment which was most agreeable to me. This was yet the easier, that in 1800 I had obtained the pre ferment of Sheriff of Selkirkshire, about £300 a-year in value, and which was the more agreeable to me, as in that county I had seve ral friends and relations.

But I did not abandon the profession tc which I had been educated, -without certain prudential resolutions, which, at the risk of some egotism, I will here mention ; not with out the hope that they may be useful to young persons who may stand in circumstances similar to those in which I then stood. In the first place, upon considering the lives aud fortunes of persons who had given themselves up to literature, or to the task of pleasing the public, it seemed to me, that the circumstances which chieflv affected their happiness and character, were those from wrhich Horace has bestowed upon authors the epithet of the Irritable Race. It requires no depth of philosophic reflection to perceive, that the petty warfare of Pope w-ith the Dunces of his period could not have been carried on w-ithout his suffering the most acute torture, such as a man must endure from musquitoes, by whose stings he suffers agony, although he can crush them in his grasp by myriads.

Nor is it necessary to call to memory the many humiliating instances in which men of the greatest genius have, to avenge some pitiful quarrel, made themselves ridiculous during their lives, to become the still more degraded objects of pity to future times. Upon the whole, as I had no pretension to the genius of the distinguished persons who had fallen into such errors, I concluded there could be no occasion for imitating them in their mistakes, or what I considered as such ; and, in adopting literary pursuits as the principal occupation of my future life, I resolved, if possible, to avoid those weaknesses of temper which seemed to have most easily beset my more celebrated predecessors. With this view, it was my first resolution to keep as far as was in my power abreast of society, continuing to maintain my place in general company, without yielding to the very natural temptation of narrowing myself to what is called literary societv.

By doing so, I imagined I should escape the besetting sin "of listening to language, which, from one motive or other, is apt to ascribe a very undue degree of consequence to literary pursuits, as If they were, indeed, the business, rather than the amusement, ol life. The opposite course can only be compared to the injudicious conduct of one who pampers himself with cordial and luscious draughts, until he is unable, to endure wholesome bitters. Like Gil Bias, therefore, I resolved to stick by the societv of my comtm's, instead of seeking that of a more literary cast, aud to maintain my general interest in what was going on around me, reserving the man of letters for the desk and the librarv. My second resolution was a corollary from the first. I determined that, without shutting my ears to the voice of true criticism, I would pay no regard to that which assumes the form of satire!

I therefore resolved to arm myself with that triple brass of Horace] of which those of my profession are seldom held deficient, against all the roving warfare of satire, parodv, and sarcasm ; to laugh if the jest was a good one, or, if otherwise, to let it hum and buzz itself to sleep. It is to the observance of these rules, (according to my best belief,) that, after a life of thirty years engaged in literary labours _( various kinds, I attribute my never having been entangled in LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. ■21 any literary quarrel or controversy; and, which is a still more pleasing result, that I have been distinguished by the personal friendship of my most approved contemporaries of all parties. I adopted, at the same time, another resolution, on which it may doubtless be remarked, that it was well for me that I had it in my power to do so, and that, therefore, it is a line of conduct which, depending upon accident, can be less generally applicable in other cases.

Yet I fail not to record this part of my plan, con vinced that, though it may not be in every one's power to adopt exactly the same resolution, he may nevertheless, by his own exertions, in some shape or other, attain the object on which it was founded, namely, to secure the means of subsistence, without relying exclusively on literary talents. In this respect, I determined that literature should be my staff, but not my crutch, and that the profits of my literary labour, however convenient other wise, should not, if I could help it, become necessary to my ordinary expenses. "With this purpose I resolved, if the interest of my friends could so far favour me, to retire upon any of the respectable offices of the law, in which persons of that profession are glad to take refuge, when they feel themselves, or are judged by others, incompetent to aspire to its higher honours.

Upon such a post an author might hope to retreat, without any per ceptible alteration of circumstances, whenever the time should arrive that the public grew weary of his endeavours to please, or he himself should tire of the pen. At this period of my life, I possessed so many friends capable of assisting me in this object of ambition, that I could hardly overrate my own prospects of obtain ing the preferment to which I limited my wishes ; and, in fact, I obtained in no long period the reversion of a situation which com pletely met them. Thus far all was well, and the Author had been guilty, per haps, of no great imprudence, when he relinquished his forensic practice with the hope of making some figure in the field of literature. But an established character with the public, in my new capacity, still remained to be acquired.

I have noticed, that the translations from Burger had been unsuccessful, nor had the original poetry which appeared under the auspices of Mr. Lewis, in the " Tales of "Wonder," in any great degree raised my reputation. It is true, I had private friends disposed to second me in my efforts to obtain popularity. But I was sports man enough to know, that if the greyhound does not run well, the halloos of his patrons will obtain nothing for him. Neither was I ignorant that the practice of ball adwriting was for the present out of fashion, and that any attempt to revive it, or to found a poetical character upon it, would certainly fail of success. The ballad measure itself, which was once listened to as to an enchanting melody, had become hackneyed and sickening, from its being the accompaniment of every grinding hand-organ; and besides, a long work in quatrains, whether those of the common ballad, or such as are termed elegiac, has an effect upon the mind like that of the bed of Procrustes upon the human body; for, as it must be both awkward and difficult to carry on a long sentence from one stanza to another, it follows, that the meaning of each period must be comprehended within four lines, and equally so that it must be extended so as to fill that space.

The alternate dilation and contraction thus rendered necessary is singularly unfavourable to narrative composition ; and the " Gondibert" of Sir William D'Avenant, though containing many striking passages, has never become popular, owing chiefly to its being told in this species of elegiac verse. In the dilemma occasioned by this objection, the idea occurred to the Author of using the measured short line, which forms the structure of so much minstrel poetry, that it may be properly termed the Romantic stanza, by way of distinction ; and which appears so natural to our language, that the very best of our poets have not been able to protract it into the verse properly called Heroic, without the use of epithets which are, to say the least, unnecessary. But, on the other hand, the extreme facility of the short couplet, which seems congenial to our language, and was, doubtless for that reason, so popular with our old minstrels, is, for the same reason, apt to prove a snare to the composer who uses it in more modern days, by encouraging him in a habit of slovenly composition.

The necessit}* of occasional pauses often forces the young poet to pay more attention to sense, as the boy's kite rises highest when the train is loaded by a due counterpoise. The Author was therefore intimidated by what Byron calls the " fatal facility" of the octo-syllabic verse, which was otherwise better adapted to his purpose of imitating the more ancient poetry. I was not less at a loss for a subject which might admit of being treated with the simplicity and wildness of the ancient ballad. But accident dictated both a theme and measure, which decided the subject, as well as the structure of the poem. The lovely young Countess of Dalkeith, afterwards Harriet, Duchess of Buccleuch, had come to the land of her husband with the desire of making herself acquainted with its traditions and customs, as well as its manners and history.

All who remember this lady will agree, that the intellectual character of her extreme beauty, the amenity and courtesy of her manners, the soundness of her understanding, and her unbounded benevolence, gave more tho idea of an angelic -visitant, than of a being belonging to this nether world; and such a thought was but too consistent with the short space she was permitted to tarry among us. Of course, where all made it a pride and pleasure to gratify her wishes, she 60on heard enough of Border lore ; among others, an aged gentle man of property,0 near Langholm, communicated to her ladyship the story of Gilpin Horner, a tradition in which the narrator, and many more of that country, were firm believers. The young « This was Mr. Beattie of Mickledale, a man then considerably upwards of eighty, of a shrewd and sarcastic temper, which he did not at all times suppress, as the following anecdote will show-— A worthy clergyman, now deceased, with better good-will than tact, was endeavouring to push the senior forward in his recollection of Border bauids and legends, by ex pressing reiterated surprise at liis wonderful memory.

" No, sir," said old Mickledale; "my memory is good for little, for* it cannot retain what ought to be preserved. I can remember all these stories about the auld riding days, which are of no earthly importance; but were you, reverend sir, to repeat your best sermon in this drawing-room, I could not tell you half an hour afterwards what you had been speaking about." LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 27 Countess, much delighted with the legend, and the gravity and full confidence with which it was told, enjoined on me as a task to compose a ballad on the subject. Of course, to hear was to obey ; and thus the goblin story, objected to by several critics as an excrescence upon the poem, was, in fact, the occasion of iu being written. A chance similar to that which dictated the subject, gave me also the hint of a new mode of treating it.

We had at that time the lease of a pleasant cottage, near Lasswade, on the romantic banks of the Esk, to which we escaped when the vacations of the Court permitted me so much leisure. Here I had the pleasure to receive a visit from Mr. Stoddart, (now Sir John Stoddart, Judge- Advocate at Malta,) who was at that time collecting the particu lars which he afterwards embodied in his Remarks on Local Scenery in Scotland. I was of some use to him in procuring the information which he desired, and guiding him to the scenes which he wished to see. In return, he made me better acquainted than I had hitherto been with the poetic effusions which have since made the lakes of Westmoreland, and the authors by whom they have been sung, so famous wherever the English tongue is spoken. I was already acquainted with the "Joan of Arc," the "Tha laba," and the " Metrical Ballads " of Mr. Southey, which had found their way to Scotland, and were generally admired.

But Mr. Stoddart, who had the advantage of personal friendship with the authors, and who possessed a strong memory, with an excellent taste, was able to repeat to me many long specimens of their poetry, which had not yet appeared in print. Amongst others, was the striking fragment called Christabel, by Mr. Coleridge, which, from the singularly irregular structure of the stanzas, and the liberty which it allowed the author to adapt the sound to the sense, seemed to be exactly suited to such an extravaganza as I meditated on the subject of Gilpin Horner. As applied to comic and humorous poetry, this mescolanza of measures had been already used by Anthony Hall, Anstey, Dr. "Wolcott, and others ; but it was in Christabel that I first found it used in serious poetry, and it is to Mr. Coleridge that I am bound to make the acknowledgment due from the pupil to his master.

I observe that Lord Byron, in noticing my obligations to Mr. Coleridge, which I have been always most ready to acknowledge, expressed, or was understood to express, a hope that I did not write an unfriendly review on Mr. Coleridge's productions. On this subject I have only to say, that I do not even know the review which is alluded to ; and were I ever to take the unbecoming freedom of censuring a man of Mr. Coleridge's extraordinary talents, it would be on account of the caprice and indolence with which he has thrown from him, as if in mere wantonness, those unfinished scraps of poetry, which, like the Torso of antiquity, defy the skill of his poetical brethren to com plete them. The charming fragments which the author aban dons to their fate, are surely too valuable to be treated like the proofs of careless engravers, the sweepings of whose studios often make the fortune of some painstaking collector.

I did not immediately proceed upon my projected labour, though I was now furnished with a subject, and with a structure of verse -which might have the effect of novelty to the public ear, and afford the author an opportunity of varying his measure with the variations of a romantic theme". On the contrary, it was, to the best of my recollection, more than a year after Mr. Stoddart's visit, that, bv wav of experiment, I composed the first two nr three stanzas'of " The Lay of the Last Minstrel." I was shortly afterwards visited by two intimate friends, one of whom still sur vives. They were men whose talents might have raised them to the highest station in literature, had they not preferred exerting them in their own profession of the law, in which they attained equal preferment. I was in the habit of consulting them on my attempts at composition, having equal confidence in their sound taste and friendly sincerity.*3 In this specimen I had, in the phrase of the Highland servant, packed all that was my own at least, for I had also included a line of invocation, a little softened, from Coleridge — *' Mary, mother, shield us well."

As neither of my friends said much to me on the subject of the stanzas I showed them before their departure, I had no doubt that their disgust had been greater than their good-nature chose to express. Looking upon them, therefore, as a failure, I threw the manuscript into the fire, and thought as little more as I could of the matter. Some time afterwards 1 met one of my two counsellors, who enquired with considerable appearance of interest, about the progress of the romance I had commenced, and was greatly sur prised at learning its fate. He confessed that neither he nor our mutual friend had been at first able to give a precise opinion on a poem so much out of the common road ; but that as they walked home together to the city, they had talked much on the subject, and the result was an earnest desire that I would proceed with the composition.