Sir Walter's next literary labour was the editorship of the Works of John Dryden, with Notes. Critical and Explanatory, and a Life of the Author: the chief aim of which appears to be the arrangement of the "literary productions in their succession, as actuated by, and operating upon, the taste of an age, where they had so predominating an influence," and the connexion of the Life of Dryden with the history of his publications. This he accomplished within a twelvemonth. Sir Walter subsequently edited, upon a similar plan, an edition of the Works of Swift.—Neither of these works can be said to entitle Sir Walter to high rank as a biographer.
THE LADY OF THE LAKE
Was written in 1809, and published in 1810, and was considered by the author as the best of his poetic compositions. He appears to have taken more than ordinary pains in its accuracy, especially in verifying the correctness of the local circumstances of the story. In his introduction to a late edition of the poem, he says—"I recollect, in particular, that to ascertain whether I was telling a probable tale, I went into Perthshire, to see whether King James could actually have ridden from the banks of Loch Venachar to Stirling Castle within the time supposed in the poem, and had the pleasure to satisfy myself that it was quite practicable." The success of the poem "was certainly so extraordinary, as to induce him for the moment to conclude, that he had at last fixed a nail in the proverbially inconstant wheel of Fortune, whose stability in behalf of an individual, who had so boldly courted her favours for three successive times, had not as yet been shaken."
ABBOTSFORD.—(See the Cuts.)
Since Sir Walter's appointment to the sheriffdom of Selkirkshire, he had resided at Ashiesteel, on the banks of the Tweed, of which he was but the tenant. He was now desirous to purchase a small estate, and thereon build a house according to his own taste. He found a desirable site six or seven miles farther down the Tweed, in the neighbourhood of the public road between Melrose and Selkirk, and at nearly an equal distance from both of those towns: it was then occupied by a little farm onstead, which bore the name of Cartley Hole. The mansion is in what is termed the castellated Gothic style, embosomed in flourishing wood. It takes its name from a ford, formerly used by the monks of Melrose, across the Tweed, which now winds amongst a rich succession of woods and lawns. But we will borrow Mr. Allan Cunningham's description of the estate, written during a visit to Abbotsford, in the summer of 1831:—"On the other side of the Tweed we had a fine view of Abbotsford, and all its policies and grounds. The whole is at once extensive and beautiful. The fast rising woods are already beginning to bury the house, which is none of the smallest; and the Tweed, which runs within gun-shot of the windows, can only be discerned here and there through the tapestry of boughs. A fine, open-work, Gothic screen half conceals and half shows the garden, as you stand in front of the house—(see the Engraving.) It was the offspring of necessity, for it became desirable to mask an unseemly old wall, on which are many goodly fruit-trees. What we most admired about the estate, was the naturally useful and elegant manner in which the great poet has laid out the plantations—first, with respect to the bounding or enclosing line; and secondly, with regard to the skilful distribution of the trees, both for the contrast of light and shade, and for the protection which the strong affords to the weak.[8] The horizontal profile of the house is fine, crowded with towers and clustered chimneys: it looks half castle, half monastery. The workmanship, too, is excellent: indeed we never saw such well-dressed, cleanly, and compactly laid whinstone course and gage in our life: it is a perfect picture."[9] "The external walls of Abbotsford, as also the walls of the adjoining garden, are enriched with many old carved stones, which, having originally figured in other situations, to which they were calculated by their sculptures and inscriptions, have a very curious effect. Among the various relics which Sir Walter has contrived to collect, may be mentioned the door of the old Tolbooth of Edinburgh, which, together with the hewn stones that composed the gateway, are now made to figure in a base court at the west end of the house."[10]
(Armoury.)
It would occupy a whole sheet to describe the interior of the mansion; so that we select only two apartments, as graphic memorials of the lamented owner. First, is the Armoury, (from a coloured lithograph, published by Ackermann)—an arched apartment, with a richly-blazoned window, and the walls filled all over with smaller pieces of armour and weapons, such as swords, firelocks, spears, arrows, darts, daggers, &c. These relics will be found enumerated in a description of Abbotsford, in the Anniversary, quoted in vol. xv. of the Mirror. The second of the interiors is the poet's Study—a room about twenty-five feet square by twenty feet high, containing of what is properly called furniture, nothing but a small writing-table and an antique arm-chair. On either side of the fire-place various pieces of armour are hung on the wall; but, there are no books, save the contents of a light gallery, which runs round three sides of the room, and is reached by a hanging stair of carved oak in one corner. There are only two portraits—an original of the beautiful and melancholy head of Claverhouse, and a small full-length of Rob Roy. Various little antique cabinets stand about the room; and in one corner is a collection of really useful weapons—those of the forest craft, to wit—axes and bills, &c. Over the fire-place, too, are some Highland claymores clustered round a target. There is only one window, pierced in a very thick wall, so that the place is rather sombre.