The Fair Maid of Perth; Or, St. Valentine's Day

by Walter Scott

  CHAPTER I.

  "Behold the Tiber," the vain Roman cried, Viewing the ample Tay from Baiglie's side; But where's the Scot that would the vaunt repay, And hail the puny Tiber for the Tay?

  Anonymous.

  Among all the provinces in Scotland, if an intelligent stranger wereasked to describe the most varied and the most beautiful, it is probablehe would name the county of Perth. A native also of any other districtof Caledonia, though his partialities might lead him to prefer hisnative county in the first instance, would certainly class that of Perthin the second, and thus give its inhabitants a fair right to plead that,prejudice apart, Perthshire forms the fairest portion of the Northernkingdom. It is long since Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, with that excellenttaste which characterises her writings, expressed her opinion that themost interesting district of every country, and that which exhibits thevaried beauties of natural scenery in greatest perfection, is that wherethe mountains sink down upon the champaign, or more level land. Themost picturesque, if not the highest, hills are also to be found in thecounty of Perth. The rivers find their way out of the mountainous regionby the wildest leaps, and through the most romantic passes connectingthe Highlands with the Lowlands. Above, the vegetation of a happierclimate and soil is mingled with the magnificent characteristics ofmountain scenery, and woods, groves, and thickets in profusion clothethe base of the hills, ascend up the ravines, and mingle with theprecipices. It is in such favoured regions that the traveller finds whatthe poet Gray, or some one else, has termed beauty lying in the lap ofterror.

  From the same advantage of situation, this favoured province presents avariety of the most pleasing character. Its lakes, woods, and mountainsmay vie in beauty with any that the Highland tour exhibits; whilePerthshire contains, amidst this romantic scenery, and in some places inconnexion with it, many fertile and habitable tracts, which may viewith the richness of merry England herself. The county has also beenthe scene of many remarkable exploits and events, some of historicalimportance, others interesting to the poet and romancer, though recordedin popular tradition alone. It was in these vales that the Saxons ofthe plain and the Gad of the mountains had many a desperate and bloodyencounter, in which it was frequently impossible to decide the palm ofvictory between the mailed chivalry of the low country and the plaidedclans whom they opposed.

  Perth, so eminent for the beauty of its situation, is a place of greatantiquity; and old tradition assigns to the town the importance ofa Roman foundation. That victorious nation, it is said, pretended torecognise the Tiber in the much more magnificent and navigable Tay,and to acknowledge the large level space, well known by the name of theNorth Inch, as having a near resemblance to their Campus Martins. Thecity was often the residence of our monarchs, who, although they had nopalace at Perth, found the Cistercian convent amply sufficient for thereception of their court. It was here that James the First, one of thewisest and best of the Scottish kings, fell a victim to the jealousy ofthe vengeful aristocracy. Here also occurred the mysterious conspiracyof Gowrie, the scene of which has only of late been effaced by thedestruction of the ancient palace in which the tragedy was acted. TheAntiquarian Society of Perth, with just zeal for the objects of theirpursuit, have published an accurate plan of this memorable mansion, withsome remarks upon its connexion with the narrative of the plot, whichdisplay equal acuteness and candour.

  One of the most beautiful points of view which Britain, or perhaps theworld, can afford is, or rather we may say was, the prospect from aspot called the Wicks of Baiglie, being a species of niche at which thetraveller arrived, after a long stage from Kinross, through a waste anduninteresting country, and from which, as forming a pass over thesummit of a ridgy eminence which he had gradually surmounted, he beheld,stretching beneath him, the valley of the Tay, traversed by its ampleand lordly stream; the town of Perth, with its two large meadows, orinches, its steeples, and its towers; the hills of Moncrieff and Kinnoulfaintly rising into picturesque rocks, partly clothed with woods; therich margin of the river, studded with elegant mansions; and thedistant view of the huge Grampian mountains, the northern screen of thisexquisite landscape. The alteration of the road, greatly, it mustbe owned, to the improvement of general intercourse, avoids thismagnificent point of view, and the landscape is introduced moregradually and partially to the eye, though the approach must be stillconsidered as extremely beautiful. There is still, we believe, afootpath left open, by which the station at the Wicks of Baiglie may beapproached; and the traveller, by quitting his horse or equipage, andwalking a few hundred yards, may still compare the real landscape withthe sketch which we have attempted to give. But it is not in our powerto communicate, or in his to receive, the exquisite charm which surprisegives to pleasure, when so splendid a view arises when least expected orhoped for, and which Chrystal Croftangry experienced when he beheld, forthe first time, the matchless scene.

  Childish wonder, indeed, was an ingredient in my delight, for I was notabove fifteen years old; and as this had been the first excursion whichI was permitted to make on a pony of my own, I also experienced theglow of independence, mingled with that degree of anxiety which the mostconceited boy feels when he is first abandoned to his own undirectedcounsels. I recollect pulling up the reins without meaning to do so,and gazing on the scene before me as if I had been afraid it would shiftlike those in a theatre before I could distinctly observe its differentparts, or convince myself that what I saw was real. Since that hour, andthe period is now more than fifty years past, the recollection of thatinimitable landscape has possessed the strongest influence over mymind, and retained its place as a memorable thing, when much that wasinfluential on my own fortunes has fled from my recollection. It istherefore unnatural that, whilst deliberating on what might be broughtforward for the amusement of the public, I should pitch upon somenarrative connected with the splendid scenery which made so muchimpression on my youthful imagination, and which may perhaps have thateffect in setting off the imperfections of the composition which ladiessuppose a fine set of china to possess in heightening the flavour ofindifferent tea.

  The period at which I propose to commence is, however, considerablyearlier of the remarkable historical transactions to which I havealready alluded, as the events which I am about to recount occurredduring the last years of the 14th century, when the Scottish sceptre wasswayed by the gentle but feeble hand of John, who, on being called tothe throne, assumed the title of Robert the Third.