lastly of this Tale, we learn that De Wilton, by his bravery, "won his rank and lands again;" and, after a ceremonial honored by the highest of the land, "For many a day, That it was held enough to say, In blessing to a wedded pair, 'Love they like Wilton and like Clare !'" VII. "THE LADY OF THE LAKE," SCOTT'S most celebrated and beautiful poem, considered as a whole,—and his next poetic composition after "Marmion,” was published in May, 1810. Its scene, he informs us, "is laid chiefly in the vicinity of Loch Katrine, in the Western Highlands of Perthshire. The time of Action includes Six Days, and the transactions of each day occupy a Canto." The period of this action is towards the middle of the sixteenth century. As stated in a former chapter, Scott visited this Highland region during the summer of 1809, when he verified recollections of it originating from excursions made repeatedly during years before, and when he learned more of its characteristics, — as, for instance, he galloped from Loch Vennachar to Stirling, in order to prove to himself that a prominent person in the poem could accomplish the same journey within a certain represented time. His first visit to the lake scenery associated with The Lady was made, before 1790, under escort of an armed guard, when he was sent to enforce execution of a legal instrument on certain Maclarens, and is described by him in "Rob Roy," and by Mr. Lockhart, in chapter v. of "The Life." The scenery of no other composition by Scott is visited by so many travellers, and there are few poems associated with scenery so attractive as is this. Indeed, there are none of his works more vividly localized; and, furthermore, there is scarcely, in this language, a poem, of like variety of scene, that equals "The Lady of the Lake," in this localization. To visit its opening and chief and most known scenes, one goes from Edinburgh or Glasgow, or almost anywhere else, by rail, to Callander, and thence, by road, nine miles, to "the Trosachs," passing near many places introduced to a reader of the earlier portions of the poem, and reaching one of the most "story-book" of comfortable inns,— one built by Lord Willoughby D'Eresby, closely among the very shrines of Romance-land. This inn is called the Trosachs Hotel, and mercifully replaces a little house called the Ardcheanochrochan. It is a place from which one can most easily visit, not only Loch Katrine and Ellen's Isle, and other places haunted by the "Lady," but also "Glenfinlas," — scene of the ballad of that name, by Scott, the Pass of Leni, and other scenes of the "Legend of Montrose," and the Clachan of Aberfoyle and Loch Ard, famous in "Rob Roy." Additional account of this region will be given in chapters xxiv. and xxi. relating to the two great novels just named. Almost every traveller, as of course, visits "the Trosachs," even if no other part of the Scotch Highlands. Indeed, some persons who have visited them speak as if they had "seen the localities of Scott's works," and, after dashing through Abbotsford, and, possibly, Dryburgh, as if they had left small portion of his "Enchanted Lands" unexplored. This Trosachs neighborhood, if no other part of these Lands, should be seen and felt, yet it is small part, indeed, of the wide domain Scott's genius has won him. A Scotch guide-book (that ought to teach better) asserts that people would have sought this neighborhood very much as now, even if Scott had never written about it. People, however, did not visit it until he did write about it; then, immediately, crowds resorted to it, and have since, continually. Any landsman could go to America after Columbus showed the way. This "Lady of the Lake" begins with "The Chase" of a "Knight of Snowdoun" and his companions, who, at sunrise, started a stag "in lone Glenartney's hazel shade" (a few miles from Callander, towards Comrie), whence this chase swept past "the heaths of Uam-Var" (a lofty mountain in sight northward), and thence, downward and westward, through Cambus-more, and over Bochastle Heath, and twice across "the flooded Teith," along the bank of which lies the traveller's road from Callander to the Trosachs. Of the hunters, "Few were the stragglers, following far, That reach'd the Lake of Vennachar," near the calm waters, the open shores, and the broken, naked braes of which one next goes. Then one passes Lanrick-mead, a rather swamp-like field beside the lake, - scene of later and more important action, the mustering of "Clan-Alpine's warriors true." Then " Duncraggan's Huts" appear, low, thatched, and mossy, just high enough for use as human habitations, and graphically described later in the poem. Not far onward is the Brigg of Turk, - that the writer found a single, old, rough stone arch, retopped with modern masonry. At this bridge, when "The Chase" had reached thus far, "The headmost horseman rode alone." Beyond it, however, he dashed, — past Loch Achray, so exquisitely sung of in the minstrel's lay of the "Battle of Beal' an Duine," — into the recesses of the Trosachs, perhaps the most intricate and charmingly picturesque defile in Scotland, as one may find, by exploring it properly, not simply by riding through it in the omnibus, or walking over the carriage road. And there, "stumbling in the rugged dell," The hunter's "horse exhausted fell." Stretch'd his stiff limbs, to rise no more.' 99 The poet's description of this romantic pass is very truthful and beautiful, showing it as it is beneath "The summer heaven's delicious blue; So wondrous wild, the whole might seem The features of the landscape, and of the lake views, next described, are not of great size. The pass is not as large or as grand as that at the White Hills, or Franconia, or Catskill, in America, and, of course, cannot be compared with Swiss passes. In America, the lake would be looked upon as a small thing, even compared with Winnipiseogee, or Horicon. But yet there is a fascination, a romance, investing these celebrated Scotch scenes, making one forget any deficiency in mere size. One can see their charms all at once, and love them, as one cannot that which is too large, too extended, to be thus embraced. Like most of the Scotch Highlands, the Trosachs should be seen during the latter part of summer, when the heather is covered with its purple flowers. This heather is the coronation robe of Scottish scenery, as is the autumnal foliage of the Northern American. The mountains around the Trosachs rise loftily and closely, presenting true Scottish features of the more beautiful cast. They are much varied by knolls and crags; and although not acute and abrupt, like many Swiss mountains, they are seldom lumpish or ungraceful in outline. Nearly bare of trees, except on their lower portions, they yet have softly toned green tints to their very summits. The foregrounds of views here, as in America, owe their chief beauty to the forests. This Trosachs valley-about a mile long, leading from comparatively open country past Loch Achray, and thence between high mountains to the shores of Loch Katrine-was, before the present road was built, rendered an intricate pass, indeed, by curious terraced piles of gray rock, tufted with the richest heather, that rise confusedly through it. One of these, "Rhoderick Dhu's Watchtower," looking quite down upon the lake, is both precipitous and lofty. All around these piles and banks and mountain bases, light and graceful birches wave among dark-green, thickly growing oaks. The old path of "The Chase" appears to have been somewhat north of the present carriage road. There is difficulty in tracing it now. It came down a narrow, sloping glen, where the Knight of Snowdoun lost his "gallant gray." He was obliged to climb one of the rocky crags on the lake-shore, in order to discover a way out of this "Troschen," -bristled territory, as it is in English and none can tell better than Scott what he saw thence; for any ordinary mortal, attempting to rewrite Scott's description, will soon find Scott's superior abilities, and his truth and picturesqueness and power. One may now look from some crag, as did the Knight of the Chase, and realize how "gleaming with the setting sun, One burnish'd sheet of living gold, And mountains, that like giants stand, High on the south, huge Benvenue Down on the lake in masses threw Crags, knolls, and mounds, confusedly hurl'd, While on the north, through middle air, "From the steep promontory gazed The stranger raptured and amazed. The turrets of a cloister gray."" And thinking awhile thus, as this scene caused him to think, one may fancy, even now, that "hosts may in these wilds abound, Such as are better miss'd than found." To call, perhaps, some straggler of the hunting-party, the Knight sounded his bugle. "But scarce again his horn he wound, When lo! forth starting at the sound, A damsel guider of its way, A little skiff shot to the bay." "The boat had touch'd" the "silver strand, Just as the Hunter left his stand, And stood conceal'd amid the brake, To view this Lady of the Lake." "And ne'er did Grecian chisel trace A Nymph, a Naiad, or a Grace, Of finer form, or lovelier face! What though the sun, with ardent frown, Had slightly tinged her cheek with brown, The sportive toil, which, short and light, Had dyed her glowing hue so bright, Served too, in hastier swell, to show Short glimpses of a breast of snow; What though no rule of courtly grace To measured mood had trained her pace, A foot more light, a step more true, Ne'er from the heath-flower dash'd the dew; E'en the slight harebell raised its head, Elastic from her airy tread: What though upon her speech there hung The accents of the mountain tongue,— Those silver sounds, so soft, so dear, The list'ner held his breath to hear!" |