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Seeing Europe with Famous Authors

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In the subsequent reign of Queen Mary, Linlithgow was the scene of
several remarkable events; the most interesting of which was the
assassination of the Regent Murray by Hamilton of Bothwell-haugh. James
VI. loved the royal residence of Linlithgow, and completed the original
plan of the Palace, closing the great square by a stately range of
apartments of great architectural beauty. He also made a magnificent
fountain in the Palace yard, now ruinous, as are all the buildings
around. Another grotesque Gothic fountain adorns the street of
the town....

When the scepter passed from Scotland, oblivion sat down in the halls of
Linlithgow; but her absolute desolation was reserved for the memorable
era of 1745-6. About the middle of January in that year, General Hawley
marched at the head of a strong army to raise the siege of Stirling,
then prest by the Highland insurgents under the adventurous Charles
Edward. The English general had exprest considerable contempt of his
enemy, who, he affirmed, would not stand a charge of cavalry. On the
night of the 17th he returned to Linlithgow, with all the marks of
defeat, having burned his tents, and left his artillery and baggage. His
disordered troops were quartered in the Palace, and began to make such
great fires on the hearth, as to endanger the safety of the edifice. A
lady of the Livingstone family who had apartments there remonstrated
with General Hawley, who treated her fears with contempt. "I can run
away from fire as fast as you can, General," answered the high-spirited
dame, and with this sarcasm took horse for Edinburgh. Very soon after
her departure her apprehensions were realized; the Palace of Linlithgow
caught fire and was burned to the ground. The ruins alone remain to show
its former splendor.

The situation of Linlithgow Palace is eminently beautiful. It stands on
a promontory of some elevation, which advances almost into the midst of
the lake. The form is that of a square court, composed of buildings of
four stories high, with towers at the angles. The fronts within the
square, and the windows, are highly ornamented, and the size of the
rooms, as well as the width and character of the staircase, are upon a
magnificent scale. One banquet room is 94 feet long, 30 feet wide, and
33 feet high, with a gallery for music. The king's wardrobe, or
dressing-room, looking to the west, projects over the walls so as to
have a delicious prospect on three sides, and is one of the most
enviable boudoirs we have ever seen.

There were two main entrances to Linlithgow Palace. That from the south
ascends rather steeply from the town, and passes through a striking
Gothic archway, flanked by two round towers. The portal has been richly
adorned by sculpture, in which can be traced the arms of Scotland with
the collars of the Thistle, the Garter, and Saint Michael. This was the
work of James V., and is of a most beautiful character.

The other entrance is from the eastward. The gateway is at some height
from the foundation of the wall, and there are opposite to it the
remains of a perron, or ramp of mason work, which those who desired to
enter must have ascended by steps. A drawbridge, which could be raised
at pleasure, united, when it was lowered, the ramp with the threshold of
the gateway, and when raised left a gap between them, which answered the
purpose of a moat. On the inside of the eastern gateway is a figure,
much mutilated, said to have been that of Pope Julius II., the same
Pontiff who sent to James IV. the beautiful sword which makes part of
the Regalia.

"To what base offices we may return!" In the course of the last war,
those beautiful remains, so full of ancient remembrances, very narrowly
escaped being defaced and dishonored, by an attempt to convert them into
barracks for French prisoners of war. The late President Blair, as
zealous a patriot as he was an excellent lawyer, had the merit of
averting this insult upon one of the most striking objects of antiquity
which Scotland yet affords. I am happy to add that of late years the
Court of Exchequer have, in this and similar cases, shown much zeal to
preserve our national antiquities, and stop the dilapidations which were
fast consuming them.

In coming to Linlithgow by the Edinburgh road, the first view of the
town, with its beautiful steeple, surmounted with a royal crown, and the
ruinous towers of the Palace arising out of a canopy of trees, forms a
most impressive object.



STIRLING [Footnote: From "English Note-Books." By special arrangement
with, and by permission of, the publishers, Houghton, Mifflin Co.
Copyright, 1870 and 1898.]

BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE

In the morning we were stirring betimes, and found Stirling to be a
pretty large town, of rather ancient aspect, with many gray stone
houses, the gables of which are notched on either side, like a flight of
stairs. The town stands on the slope of a hill, at the summit of which,
crowning a long ascent, up which the paved street reaches all the way to
its gate, is Stirling Castle. Of course we went thither, and found free
entrance, altho the castle is garrisoned by five or six hundred men,
among whom are bare-legged Highlanders (I must say that this costume is
very fine and becoming, tho their thighs did look blue and frost-bitten)
and also some soldiers of other Scotch regiments, with tartan trousers.
Almost immediately on passing the gate, we found an old artillery-man,
who undertook to show us round the castle. Only a small portion of it
seems to be of great antiquity. The principal edifice within the castle
wall is a palace, that was either built or renewed by James VI.; and it
is ornamented with strange old statues, one of which is his own.

The old Scottish Parliament House is also here. The most ancient part of
the castle is the tower, where one of the Earls of Douglas was stabbed
by a king, and afterward thrown out of the window. In reading this
story, one imagines a lofty turret, and the dead man tumbling headlong
from a great height; but, in reality, the window is not more than
fifteen or twenty feet from the garden into which he fell. This part of
the castle was burned last autumn; but is now under repair, and the wall
of the tower is still stanch and strong. We went up into the chamber
where the murder took place, and looked through the historic window.

Then we mounted the castle wall, where it broods over a precipice of
many hundred feet perpendicular, looking down upon a level plain below,
and forth upon a landscape, every foot of which is richly studded with
historic events. There is a small peep-hole in the wall, which Queen
Mary is said to have been in the habit of looking through. It is a most
splendid view; in the distance, the blue Highlands, with a variety of
mountain outlines that I could have studied unweariably; and in another
direction, beginning almost at the foot of the Castle Hill, were the
Links of Forth, where, over a plain of miles in extent the river
meandered, and circled about, and returned upon itself again and again
and again, as if knotted into a silver chain, which it was difficult to
imagine to be all one stream. The history of Scotland might be read from
this castle wall, as on a book of mighty page; for here, within the
compass of a few miles, we see the field where Wallace won the battle of
Stirling, and likewise the battle-field of Bannockburn, and that of
Falkirk, and Sheriffmuir, and I know not how many besides.

Around the Castle Hill there is a walk, with seats for old and infirm
persons, at points sheltered from the wind. We followed it downward, and
I think we passed over the site where the games used to be held, and
where, this morning, some of the soldiers of the garrison were going
through their exercises. I ought to have mentioned, that, passing
through the inner gateway of the castle, we saw the round tower, and
glanced into the dungeon, where the Roderic Dhu of Scott's poem was left
to die. It is one of the two round towers, between which the portcullis
rose and fell.



ABBOTSFORD [Footnote: From "Homes and Haunts of the Most Eminent British
Poets."]

BY WILLIAM HOWITT

Abbotsford, after twenty years' interval, and having then been seen
under the doubly exaggerated influence of youth and the recent influence
of Scott's poetry, in some degree disappointed me. I had imagined the
house itself larger, its towers more lofty, its whole exterior more
imposing. The plantations are a good deal grown, and almost bury the
house from the distant view, but they still preserve all their formality
of outline, as seen from the Galashiels road. Every field has a thick,
black belt of fir-trees, which run about, forming on the long hillside
the most fantastic figures. The house is, however, a very interesting
house. At first, you come to the front next to the road, which you do by
a steep descent down the plantation. You are struck, having a great
castle in your imagination, with the smallness of the place. It is
neither large nor lofty. Your ideal Gothic castle shrinks into a
miniature. The house is quite hidden till you are at it, and then you
find yourself at a small, castellated gateway, with its crosses cut into
the stone pillars on each side, and the little window over it, as for
the warden to look out at you.

Then comes the view of this side of the house with its portico, its bay
windows with painted glass, its tall, battlemented gables, and turrets
with their lantern terminations; the armorial escutcheon over the door,
and the corbels, and then another escutcheon aloft on the wall of stars
and crescents. All these have a good effect; and not less so the light
screen of freestone finely worked and carved with its elliptic arches
and iron lattice-work, through which the garden is seen with its
espalier trees, high brick walls, and greenhouse, with a doorway at the
end leading into a second garden of the same sort. The house has a dark
look, being built of the native whinstone, or grau-wacke, as the Germans
call it, relieved by the quoins and projections of the windows and
turrets in freestone. All look classic, and not too large for the poet
and antiquarian builder. The dog Maida lies in stone on the right hand
of the door in the court, with the well known inscription. The house can
neither be said to be Gothic nor castellated. It is a combination of the
poet's, drawn from many sources, but all united by good taste, and
forming an unique style, more approaching the Elizabethan than
any other.

Round the court, of which the open-work screen just mentioned is the
farther boundary, runs a covered walk, that is, along the two sides not
occupied by the house and the screen; and in the wall beneath the arcade
thus formed, are numerous niches, containing a medley of old figures
brought from various places. There are Indian gods, old figures out of
churches, and heads of Roman emperors. In the corner of the court, on
the opposite side of the portico to the dog Maida, is a fountain, with
some similar relics reared on the stonework around it.

The other front gives you a much greater idea of the size. It has a more
continuous range of façade. Here, at one end, is Scott's square tower,
ascended by outside steps, and a round or octagon tower at the other;
you can not tell, certainly, which shape it is, as it is covered with
ivy. On this the flagstaff stands. At the end next to the square tower,
i. e., at the right-hand end as you face it, you pass into the outer
court, which allows you to go around the end of the house from one front
to the other, by the old gateway, which once belonged to the Tolbooth of
Edinburgh. Along the whole of this front runs a gallery, in which the
piper used to stalk to and fro while they were at dinner. This man still
comes about the place, tho he has been long discharged. He is a
great vagabond.

Such is the exterior of Abbotsford. The interior is far more
interesting. The porch, copied from that of the old palace of
Linlithgow, is finely groined, and there are stags' horns nailed up in
it. When the door opens, you find yourself in the entrance-hall, which
is, in fact, a complete museum of antiquities and other matters. It is,
as described in Lockhart's Life of Scott, wainscoted with old wainscot
from the kirk of Dumfermline, and the pulpit of John Knox is cut in two,
and placed as chiffoniers between the windows. The whole walls are
covered with suits of armor and arms, horns of moose deer, the head of a
musk bull, etc. At your left hand, and close to the door, are two
cuirasses, some standards, eagles, etc., collected at Waterloo.

At the opposite end of the room are two full suits of armor, one
Italian, and one English of the time of Henry V., the latter holding in
its hands a stupendous two-handed sword, I suppose six feet long, and
said to have been found on Bosworth field. Opposite to the door is the
fireplace of freestone, imitated from an arch in the cloister at
Melrose, with a peculiarly graceful spandrel. In it stands the iron
grate of Archbishop Sharpe, who was murdered by the Covenanters; and
before it stands a most massive Roman camp-kettle. On the roof, at the
center of the pointed arches, runs a row of escutcheons of Scott's
family, two or three at one end being empty, the poet not being able to
trace the maternal lineage so high as the paternal. These were painted
accordingly in clouds, with the motto, "Night veils the deep." Around
the door at one end are emblazoned the shields of his most intimate
friends, as Erskine, Moritt, Rose, etc., and all around the cornice ran
the emblazoned shields of the old chieftains of the border....

Then there is the library, a noble room, with a fine cedar ceiling, with
beautiful compartments, and most lovely carved pendants, where you see
bunches of grapes, human figures, leaves, etc. It is copied from Rosslyn
or Melrose. There are three busts in this room; the first, one of Sir
Walter, by Chantrey; one of Wordsworth; and in the great bay window, on
a table, a cast of that of Shakespeare, from Stratford. There is a
full-length painting of the poet's son, the present Sir Walter, in his
hussar uniform, with, his horse. The work-table in the space of the bay
window, and the fine carved ceiling in this part of the room, as well as
the brass hanging lamp brought from Hereulaneum, are particularly worthy
of notice. There is a pair of most splendidly carved box-wood chairs,
brought from Italy, and once belonging to some cardinal. The other
chairs are of ebony, presented by George IV. There is a tall silver urn,
standing on a prophyry table, filled with bones from the Piraeus, and
inscribed as the gift of Lord Byron. The books in this room, many of
which are secured from hurt by wire-work doors are said to amount to
twenty thousand. Many, of course, are very valuable, having been
collected with great care by Scott, for the purpose of enabling him to
write his different works....

The armory is a most remarkable room; it is the collection of the author
of Waverly; and to enumerate all the articles which are here assembled,
would require a volume. Take a few particulars. The old wooden lock of
the Tolbooth of Selkirk; Queen Mary's offering-box, a small iron ark or
coffer, with a circular lid, found in Holyrood-house. Then Hofer's
rifle--a short, stout gun, given him by Sir Humphry Davy, or rather by
Hofer's widow to Sir Humphry for Sir Walter. The housekeeper said, that
Sir Humphry had done some service for the widow of Hofer, and in her
gratitude she offered him this precious relic, which he accepted for Sir
Walter, and delighted the poor woman with the certainty that it would be
preserved to posterity in such a place as Abbotsford. There is an old
white hat, worn by the burgesses of Stowe when installed. Rob Roy's
purse and his gun; a very long one, with the initials R. M. C., Robert
Macgregor Campbell, around the touch-hole. A rich sword in a silver
sheath, presented to Sir Walter by the people of Edinburgh, for the
pains he took when George IV. was there....

Lastly, and on our way back to the entrance-hall, we enter the
writing-room of Sir Walter, which is surrounded by book-shelves, and a
gallery, by which Scott not only could get at his books, but by which he
could get to and from his bedroom; and so be at work when his visitors
thought him in bed. He had only to lock his door, and he was safe. Here
are his easy leathern chair and desk, at which he used to work, and, in
a little closet, is the last suit that he ever wore--a bottle-green
coat, plaid waistcoat, of small pattern, gray plaid trousers, and white
hat. Near these hang his walking-stick, and his boots and walking-shoes.
Here are, also, his tools, with which he used to prune his trees in the
plantations, and his yeoman-cavalry accouterments. On the chimney-piece
stands a German light-machine, where he used to get a light, and light
his own fire. There is a chair made of the wood of the house at
Robroyston, in which William Wallace was betrayed; having a brass plate
in the back, stating that it is from this house, where "Wallace was done
to death by Traitors." The writing-room is connected with the library,
and this little closet had a door issuing into the garden; so that Scott
had all his books at immediate command, and could not only work early
and late, without anybody's knowledge, but, at will, slip away to wood
and field, if he pleased, unobserved.



DRYBURGH ABBEY [Footnote: From "The Ruined Abbeys of the Border."]

BY WILLIAM HOWITT

Dryburgh lies amid the scenes in which Scott not only took such peculiar
delight, but which furnished him themes both for his poems and romances,
and which were rich in those old songs and narratives of border feats
and raids which he has preserved in his Border Minstrelsy. Melrose, the
Eildon Hills, the haunt of Thomas of Ercildoune, Jedburgh, Yetholm, the
Cowdenknowes, the Yarrow, and Ettrick, all lie on different sides within
a circle of twenty miles, and most of them much nearer. Smailholme
Tower, the scene of some of Scott's youthful days, and of his ballad of
"The Eve of St. John," is also one of these. Grose tells us that "The
ruins of Dryburgh Monastery are beautifully situated on a peninsula
formed by the Tweed, ten-miles above Kelso, and three below Melrose, on
the southwestern confine of the county of Berwick." ...

The new Abbey of Dryburgh had the credit of being founded in 1150 by
David I., who was fond of the reputation, of being a founder of abbeys,
Holyrood Abbey, Melrose Abbey, Kelso Abbey, Jedburgh Abbey, and others,
having David I. stated as their founder. However it might be in other
cases, and in some of them he was merely the restorer, the real founders
of Dryburgh were Hugh de Morville, Lord of Lauderdale, and Constable of
Scotland, and his wife, Beatrice de Beauchamp....

Edward II., in his invasion of Scotland in 1323, burned down Dryburgh
Abbey, as he had done that of Melrose in the preceding year; and both
these magnificent houses were restored principally at the cost of Robert
Bruce. It was again destroyed by the English in 1544, by Sir George
Bowes and Sir Brian Latoum, as Melrose was also. Among the most
distinguished of its abbots we may mention Andrew Fordum, Bishop of
Moray, and afterward Archbishop of St. Andrews, and Ambassador to
France, and who held some of the most important offices under James IV.
and James V. The favors conferred upon him were in proportion to his
consequence in the state. Along with this abbey of Dryburgh, he held in
commendam those of Pittenweem, Coldingham, and Dunfermline. He resigned
Dryburgh to James Ogilvie, of the family of Deskford. Ogilvie was also
considerably employed in offices of diplomacy, both at London and Paris.

The Erskines seemed to keep firm hold of the Abbey of Dryburgh; and Adam
Erskine, one of Abbot James's successors, was, under George Buchanan, a
sub-preceptor to James VI. This James I. of England dissolved the abbey
in 1604, and conferred it and its lands, together with the abbeys and
estates of Cambuskenneth and Inehmahorne, on John Erskine, Earl of Mar,
who was made, on this occasion, also Baron of Cardross, which barony was
composed of the property of these three monasteries. In this line,
Dryburgh descended to the Lords of Buchan. The Earls of Buchan, at one
time, sold it to the Halliburtons of Mortoun, from whom it was purchased
by Colonel Tod, whose heirs again sold it to the Earl of Buchan in 1786.
This eccentric nobleman bequeathed it to his son, Sir David Erskine, at
whose death in 1837 it reverted to the Buchan family.

Two monasteries in Ireland, the abbey of Druin-la-Croix in the County of
Armagh, and the abbey of Woodburn in the county of Antrim, acknowledged
Dryburgh as their mother. A copy of the Liber S. Mariae de Dryburgh is
in the Advocates' Library in Edinburgh, containing all its ancient
charters. Such are the main points of history connected with Dryburgh;
but, when we open the ballad lore of the South of Scotland, we find this
fine old place figuring repeatedly and prominently....

Grose says: "The freestone of which the monastery of Dryburgh and the
most elegant parts of the Abbey of Melrose were built, is one of a most
beautiful color and texture, and has defied the influence of the weather
for more than six centuries; nor is the sharpness of the sculpture in
the least affected by the ravages of time. The quarry from which it was
taken is still successfully worked at Dryburgh; and no stone in the
island seems more perfectly adapted for the purpose of architecture, as
it hardens by age, and is not subject to be corroded or decomposed by
the weather, so that it might even be used for the cutting of
bas-reliefs and of statues." ...

As the remains of the abbey have since been carefully preserved, they
present still much the same aspect as at Grose's visit in 1797. When I
visited this lovely ruin and lovely neighborhood in 1845, I walked from
Melrose, a distance of between three and four miles. Leaving the Eildon
Hills on my right, and following the course of the Tweed, I saw, as I
progressed, Cowdenknowes, Bemerside, and other spots famous in border
song. Issuing from a steep and woody lane, I came out on a broad bend of
the river, with a wide strand of gravel and stones on this side, showing
with what force the wintry torrents rushed along here. Opposite rose
lofty and finely-wooded banks. Amid the trees on that side shone out a
little temple of the Muses, where they are represented as consecrating
James Thomson the poet. Farther off, on a hill, stands a gigantic statue
of William Wallace, which was originally intended for Burns; but, the
stone being too large, it was thought by the eccentric Lord Buchan, who
erected it, a pity to cut it down....

I was ferried over by two women, who were by no means sorry that the
winds and floods had carried my Lord Buchan's bridge away, as it
restored their business of putting people over. I then ascended a lane
from the ferry, and found myself in front of an apparently old castle
gateway; but, from the Latin inscription over it, discovered that it was
also erected by the same singular Lord Buchan, as the entrance to a
pomarium, or, in plain English, an orchard, dedicated to his honored
parents, who, I suppose, like our first parents, were particularly fond
of apples. That his parents or himself might enjoy all the apples, he
had under the Latin dedication, placed a simple English menace of steel
traps and spring guns. I still advanced through a pleasant scene of
trees and cottages, of rich grassy crofts, with cattle lying luxuriously
in them, and amid a hush of repose, indicative of a monastic scene.

Having found a guide to the ruins, at a cottage near the river, I was
led across a young orchard toward them, the two old gables and the fine
circular window showing themselves above the foliage. I found the
interior of the ruins carpeted by soft turf, and two rows of cedars
growing in the church, marking where the aisle formerly ran. The
cloisters and south transept were still entire, and displayed much fine
workmanship. The great circular window is especially lovely, formed of
five stars cut in stone, so that the open center between them forms a
rose. The light seen through this charming window produced a fine
effect. The chapter-house was also entire, the floor being now only of
earth; and a circle was drawn in the center, where the remains of the
founder and his lady lie. Here, again, however, the fantastic old Lord
Buchan had interfered, and a statue of Locke, reading an open book, and
pointing to his own forehead; one of Inigo Jones, and one of Newton,
made you wonder what they were doing there. So totally without regard to
fitness did this half-crazy nobleman put down his ornaments. The wonder
is that his successor had not removed these, and some statues or busts
which had as little business on the spot.

But the charm of the place in every sense was the grave of Scott. It was
in the Lady aisle, and occupies two arches of it; and the adjoining
space under the next arch is the burial place of the Erskines, as
Scott's burial-place was that of his ancestors, the Halliburtons. The
whole, with the tier of small sectional Norman arches above, forms a
glorious tomb much resembling one of the chapel tombs in Winchester
Cathedral. Taken in connection with the fine ruins, and the finer
natural scenery around, no spot can be supposed more suitable for the
resting-place of the remains of the great minstrel and romancer, who so
delighted in the natural, historic, and legendary charms of the
neighborhood, and who added still greater ones to them himself.

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