'Tis in the churchyard now-the tread XXXIII. While yet the smoke the deed conceals, A score of pikes, with each a wound, But still his struggling force he rears, XXXIV. No more of death and dying pang, 1 See Appendix, Note 3 K. Three bounds he made, that noble steed; The first the chancel's bound 3 MS." Oppress'd and pinn'd him to the ground." ♦ MS." And when, by odds borne down at length." MS.-" He bore." 6 MS.-"Had more of laugh in it than moan." 7 MS.-"But held their weapons ready set, Lest the grim king should rouse him yet." 9" Whether we see him scaling the cliffs in desperate course, and scaring the hawks and the ravens from their nests; or, while the Castle is on fire, breaking from the central mass of smoke; or, amidst the terrific circumstances of his death, when his 'parting groan Had more of laughter than of moan,' we mark his race of terror, with the poet, like the eve of tropic sun!' 'No pale gradations quench his ray He rushes to his burning bed; "I hope you will like Bertram to the end; he is a Caravaggio sketch, which, I may acknowledge to you-but tell it not in Gath-I rather pique myself upon; and he is within the keeping of Nature, though critics will say to the contrary. It may be difficult to fancy that any one should take a sort of pleasure in bringing out such a character, but I suppose it is partly owing to bad reading, and ill-directed reading, when I was young."-SCOTT to Miss Baillie.-Life, vol. iv. p. 49. Redmond he saw and heard alone, XXXV. This chanced upon a summer morn, 1 MS.-Here the Author of Rokeby wrote, "End of Canto VI." Stanza xxxv., added at the request of the printer and another friend, was accompanied by the following note to Mr. Ballantyne : "DEAR JAMES, "I send you this, out of deference to opinions so strongly expressed; but still retaining my own, that it spoils one effect without producing another. "W. S." 2" Mr. Scott has now confined himself within much narrower limits, and, by descending to the sober annals of the seventeenth century, has renounced nearly all those ornaments of Gothic pageantry, which, in consequence of the taste with which he displayed them, had been tolerated, and even admired, by modern readers. He has subjected his style to a severer code of criticism. The language of the poet is often unconsciously referred to the date of the incidents which he relates; so that what is careless or idiomatic escapes censure, as a supposed anomaly of antique diction: and it is, perhaps, partly owing to this impression, that the phraseology of Marmion,' and of the Lady of the Lake,' has appeared to us to be no less faulty than that of the present poem. "But, be this as it may, we confidently persist in thinking, that in this last experiment, Mr. Scott's popularity will be still farther confirmed; because we have found by experience, that, although during the first hasty inspection of the poem, undertaken for the gratification of our curiosity, some blemishes intruded themselves upon our notice, the merits of the story, and the minute shades of character displayed in the conduct of it, have been sufficient, during many succeeding perusals, to awaken our feelings, and to reanimate and sus tain our attention. "The original fiction from which the poem is derived, appears to us to be constructed with considerable ability; but it is on the felicity with which the poet has expanded and dramatized it; on the diversity of the characters; on the skill with which they are unfolded, and on the ingenuity with which every incident is rendered subservient to his final purpose, that we chiefly found our preference of this over his former productions. From the first canto to the last, nothing is superfluous. The arrival of a nocturnal visitor at Barnard Castle is announced with such solemnity, the previous terrors of Oswald, the arrogance and ferocity of Bertram, his abruptness and discourtesy of demeanour, are so minutely delineated, that the picture seems as if it had been introduced for the sole purpose of displaying the author's powers of description! yet it is from this visit that all the subsequent incidents naturally, and almost necessarily flow. Our curiosity is, at the very commencement of the poem, most powerfully excited; Drops, while she folds them for a prayer Time and Tide had thus their sway, the principal actors in the scene exhibit themselves distinctly to our view, the development of the plot is perfectly continuous, and our attention is never interrupted, or suffered to relax."-Quarterly Review. "This production of Mr. Scott altogether abounds in imagery and description less than either of its precursors, in pretty nearly the same proportion as it contains more of dramatic incident and character. Yet some of the pictures which it presents are highly wrought and vividly coloured; for example, the terribly animated narrative, in the fifth canto, of the battle within the hall, and the conflagration of the mansion of Rokeby. "Several defects, of more or less importance, we noticed, or imagined that we noticed, as we read. It appears like presumption to accuse Mr. Scott of any failure in respect of costume-of the manners and character of the times which he describes-yet the impression produced on our minds by the perusai, has certainly been, that we are thrown back in imagination to a period considerably antecedent to that which he intends to celebrate. The other faults, we remarked, consist principally in the too frequent recurrence of those which we have so often noticed on former occasions, and which are so incorporated with the poet's style, that it is now become as useless as it is painful, to repeat the censures which they have occasioned. "We have been informed that Rokeby' has hitherto circulated less rapidly than has usually been the case with Mr. Scott's works. If the fact be so, we are inclined to attribute it solely to accidental circumstances; being persuaded that the defects of the poem are only common to it with all the productions of its author; that they are even less numerous than in most; and that its beauties, though of a different stamp, are more profusely scattered, and, upon the whole, of a higher order."-Critical Review. "Such is Rokeby; and our readers must confess that it is a very interesting tale. Alone, it would stamp the author one of the most picturesque of English poets. Of the story, we need hardly say any thing farther. It is complicated without being confused, and so artfully suspended in its unravelment, as to produce a constantly increasing sensation of curiosity. Parts, indeed, of the catastrophe may at intervals be foreseen, but they are like the partial glimpses that we catch of a noble and well-shaded building, which does not break on us in all its proportion and in all its beauty, until we suddenly arrive in front. Of the characters, we have something to ob serve, in addition to our private remarks. Our readers may perhaps have seen that we have frequently applied the term sketch, to the several personages of the drama. Now, although this poem possesses more variety of well-sustained character than any other of Mr. Scott's performances-although Wilfrid will be a favourite with every lover of the soft, the gentle, and the pathetic, while Edmund offers a fearful warning to misused abilities-and although Redmond is indeed a man, compared to the Cranstoun of The Lay, to the Willon of Marmion, or to the Malcolm of the Lady of the Lake; yet is Redmond himself but a sketch compared to Bertram. Here is Mr. Scott's true and favourite hero. He has no sneaking kindness' for these barbarians;-he boldly adopts and patronises them. Deloraine (it has humorously been observed) would have been exactly what Marmion was, could he have read and written; Bertram is a happy mixture of both;-as great a villain, if possible, as Marmion; and, if possible, as great a scamp as Deloraine. His character is completed by a dash of the fierceness of Roderick Dhu. We do not here enter into the question as to the good taste of an author who employs his utmost strength of description on a compound of bad qualities; but we must observe, in the way of protest for the present, that something must be wrong where poetical effect and moral approbation are so much at variance. We leave untouched the general argument, whether it makes any difference for poetical purposes, that a hero's vices or his virtues should preponderate. Powerful indeed must be the genius of the poet who, out of such materials as those above mentioned, can form an interesting whole. This, however, is the fact; and Bertram at times so overcomes hatred with admiration, that he (or rather his painter) is almost pardonable for his energy alone. There is a charm about this spring of mind which bears down all opposition, and throws a brilliant veil of light over the most hideous deformity.' This is the fascination-this is the variety and vigour by which Mr. Scott recommends barbarous herces, undignified occurrences, and, occasionally, the most incorrect language, and the most imperfect versification "Catch but his fire-' And you forgive him all.'" Monthly Review. "That Rokeby, as a whole, is equally interesting with Mr. Scott's former works, we are by no means prepared to assert. But if there be, comparatively, a diminution of interest, it is evidently owing to no other cause than the time or place of its action-the sobriety of the period, and the abated wildness of the scenery. With us, the wonder is, that a period so late as that of Charles the First, could have been managed so dexterously, and have been made so happily subservient to poetic invention. "In the meantime, we have no hesitation in declaring our opinion, that the tale of Rokeby is much better told than those of The Lay,' or of Marmion.' Its characters are introduced with more case; its incidents are more natural; one event is more necessarily generated by another; the reader's mind is kept more in suspense with respect to the termination of the story; and the moral reflections interspersed are of a deeper cast. Of the versification, also, we can justly pronounce, that it is more polished than in Marmion,' or 'The Lay; and though we have marked some careless lines, yet even in the instance of bold disorder,' Rokeby can furnish little room for animadversion. In fine, if we must compare him with himself, we judge Mr. Scott has given us a poem in Rokeby, superior to Marmion,' or 'The Lay,' but not equal, perhaps, to The Lady of the Lake.'"-British Critic. "It will surprise no one to hear that Mr. Morritt assured his friend he considered Rokeby as the best of all his poems. The admirable, perhaps the unique fidelity of the local descriptions, might alone have swayed, for I will not say it perverted, the judgment of the lord of that beautiful and thenceforth classical domain; and, indeed, I must admit that I never understood or appreciated half the charm of this poem until I had become familiar with its scenery. But Scott himself had not designed to rest his strength on these descriptions. He said to James Ballantyne, while the work was in progress, (September 2,) I hope the thing will do, chiefly because the world will not expect from me a poem of which the interest turns upon character;' and in another letter, (October 28, 1812,) I think you will see the same sort of difference taken in all my former poems, of which I would say, if it is fair for me to say any thing, that the force in the Lay is thrown on style-in Marmion, on description, and in the Lady of the Lake, on incident.' I suspect some of these distinctions may have been matters of after-thought; but as to Rokeby there can be no mistake. His own original conceptions of some of its principal characters have been explained in letters already cited; and I believe no one who compares the poem with his novels will doubt that, had he undertaken their portraiture in prose, they would have come forth with effect hardly inferior to any of all the groups he ever created. As it is, I question whether, even in his prose, there is any thing more exquisitely wrought out, as well as fancied, than the whole contrast of the two rivals for the love of the heroine in Rokeby; and that heroine herself, too, has a very particular interest attached to her. Writing to Miss Edgeworth five years after this time, (10th March 1818,) he says, I have not read one of my poems since they were printed, excepting last year the Lady of the Lake, which I liked better than I expected, but not well enough to induce me to go through the rest; so I may truly say with Macbeth 'I am afraid to think of what I've doneLook on't again I dare not.' "This much of Matilda I recollect, (for that is not so easily forgotten) that she was attempted for the existing person of a lady who is now no more, so that I am particularly flattered with your distinguishing it from the others, which are in general mere shadows.' I can have no doubt that the lady he here alludes to was the object of his own unfortunate first love; and as little, that in the romantic generosity, both of the youthful poet who fails to win her higher favour, and of his chivalrous competitor, we have before us something more than a mere shadow. "In spite of these graceful characters, the inimitable scenery on which they are presented, and the splendid vivacity and thrilling interest of several chapters in the storysuch as the opening interview of Bertram and Wycliffe-the flight up the cliff on the Greta-the first entrance of the cave at Brignall-the firing of Rokeby Castle--and the catastrophe in Fgliston Abbey; in spite certainly of exquisitely happy lines profusely scattered throughout the whole composition, and of some detached images-that of the setting of the tropical sun, for example-which were never surpassed by any poet; in spite of all these merits, the immediate success of Rokeby was greatly inferior to that of the Lady of the Lake; nor has it ever since been so much a favourite with the public at large as any other of his poetical romances. He ascribes this failure, in his introduction of 1830, partly to the radically unpoetical character of the Round-heads; but surely their character has its poetical side also, had his prejudices allowed him to enter upon its study with impartial sympathy; and I doubt not Mr. Morritt suggested the difficulty on this score, when the outline of the story was as yet undetermined, from consideration rather of the poet's peculiar feelings, and powers as hitherto exhibited, than of the subject absolutely. Partly he blames the satiety of the public ear, which had had so much of his rhythm, not only from himself, but from dozens of mocking birds, male and female, all more or less applauded in their day, and now all equally forgotten. This circumstance, too, had probably no slender effect; the more that, in defiance of all the hints of his friends, he now, in his narrative, repeated (with more negligence) the uniform octosyllabic couplets of the Lady of the Lake, instead of recurring to the more varied cadence of the Lay or Marmion. It is fair to add that, among the London circles at least, some sarcastic flings in Mr. Moore's Twopenny Post Bag' must have had an unfavourable influence on this occasion. But the cause of failure which the poet himself places last, was unquestionably the main one. The deeper and darker passion of Childe Harold, the audacity of its morbid voluptuousness, and the melancholy majesty of the numbers in which it defied the world, had taken the general imagination by storm; and Rokeby, with many beauties, and some sublimities, was pitched, as a whole, on a key which seemed tame in the comparison."- LOCKHART. Life of Scott, vol. iv. pp. 53–58. APPENDIX. NOTE A. On Barnard's towers, and Tees's stream, &c.-P. 289. "BARNARD CASTLE," saith old Leland, "standeth stately upon Tees." It is founded upon a very high bank, and its ruins impend over the river, including within the area a circuit of six acres and upwards. This once magnificent fortress derives its name from its founder, Barnard Baliol, the ancestor of the short and unfortunate dynasty of that name, which succeeded to the Scottish throne under the patronage of Edward I. and Edward III. Baliol's Tower, afterwards mentioned in the poem, is a round tower of great size, situated at the western extremity of the building. It bears marks of great antiquity, and was remarkable for the curious construction of its vaulted roof, which has been lately greatly injured by the operations of some persons, to whom the tower has been leased for the purpose of making patent shot! The prospect from the top of Baliol's Tower commands a rich and magnificent view of the wooded valley of the Tees. Barnard Castle often changed masters during the middle ages. Upon the forfeiture of the unfortunate John Baliol, the first king of Scotland of that family, Edward I. seized this fortress among the other English estates of his refractory vassal. It was afterwards vested in the Beauchamps of Warwick, and in the Staffords of Buckingham, and was also sometimes in the possession of the Bishops of Durham, and sometimes in that of the crown. Richard III. is said to have enlarged and strengthened its fortifications, and to have made it for some time his principal residence, for the purpose of bridling and suppressing the Lancastrian faction in the northern counties. From the Staffords, Barnard Castle passed, probably by marriage, into the possession of the powerful Nevilles, Earls of Westmoreland, and belonged to the last representative of that family, when he engaged with the Earl of Northumberland in the ill-concerted insurrection of the twelfth of Queen Elizabeth. Upon this occasion, however, Sir George Bowes of Sheatlam, who held great possessions in the neighbourhood, anticipated the two insurgent earls, by seizing upon and garrisoning Barnard Castle, which he held out for ten days against all their forces, and then surrendered it upon honourable terms. See Sadler's State Papers, vol. ii. p. 330. In a ballad, contained in Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry, vol. i., the siege is thus commemorated: "Then Sir George Bowes he straight way rose, "That baron he to his castle fled; To Barnard Castle then fled he; The uttermost walles were eathe to won, The erles have won them presentlie. "The uttermost walles were lime and brick; By the suppression of this rebellion, and the consequent forfeiture of the Earl of Westmoreland, Barnard Castle reverted to the crown, and was sold or leased out to Car, Earl of Somerset, the guilty and unhappy favourite of James I. It was afterwards granted to Sir Henry Vane the elder, and was therefore, in all probability, occupied for the Parliament, whose interest during the Civil War was so keenly espoused by the Vanes. It is now, with the other estates of that family, the property of the Right Honourable Earl of Darlington. NOTE B. -no human ear, Unsharpen'd by revenge and fear, Could e'er distinguish horse's clank.-P. 290. I have had occasion to remark, in real life, the effect of keen and fervent anxiety in giving acuteness to the organs of sense. My gifted friend, Miss Joanna Baillie, whose dramatic works display such intimate acquaintance with the operations of human passion, has not omitted this remarkable circumstance: "De Montfort. (Off his guard.) 'Tis Rezenvelt: I heard his well-known foot, From the first staircase mounting step by step. (De Montford looks embarrassed, and is silent.") NOTE C. The morion's plumes his visage hide, The use of complete suits of armour was fallen into disuse during the Civil War, though they were still worn by leaders of rank and importance. "In the reign of King James I.," says our military antiquary, "no great alterations were made in the article of defensive armour, except that the buff-coat, or jerkin, which was originally worn under the cuirass, now |