Scott's 'Castle Dangerous' 1832

 

First (1832) and later editions

 

Well, I have finally crossed the Bar; I have read the Waverley series of novels (apart from Waverley itself, too expensive) all in first edition (Waverley I have recently purchased in a third edition, also published in 1814). I commenced with Guy Mannering on 15th January 2021 and have read 86 books since then, many of them in three-deckers. I have but five more novels to wrap up my Early Nineteenth Century Scottish Novels programme. Then a break until later this year, when I will mop up about half a dozen purchased subsequently to the original List. Hey ho!

What of Scott's finale - Castle Dangerous? If I start with his final paragraphs, (on pp. 328-330) it is because they are the most poignant.

The gentle reader is acquainted, that these are , in all probability, the last tales which it will be the lot of the Author to submit to the public. He is now on the eve of visiting foreign parts...to climates which he may possibly obtain such a restoration of health as may serve him to spin his thread to an end in his own country. It ends with Abbotsford, September, 1831. It was not to be. A year later, September 1832, the Author of Waverley was no more. 

Castle Dangerous is the work of a tired, ill man. The relating of the quarrel between de Walton and de Valence is overlong and is not strictly relevant to the main plot. The final combat in St. Bride's Kirk does not have the effect it could have done in the hands of a younger Scott. John Buchan argues that the oppression of the author's spirits is curiously reflected in the weather of the tale, for all the events take place under grey skies, in creeping mists and driving rain.

The two downsides for me were:

There was the usual 'flirtation' with the supernatural, viz.  a tall thin form, attired in, or rather shaded with, a long flowing dusky robe, having a face and physiognomy so wild and overgrow with hair as to be hardly human, were the only marked outlines of the phantom...but, it came from Hugonet, the violer, on retirement into a cloister near the Lake of Pembelmere in Wales - so, what can you expect.` Then there is de Valence's sight of  an apparition of a mounted horseman in full armour in the small and ruinous street of the deserted town of Douglas. No wonder his retainers were struck with a feeling like supernatural terror. One realises, later, that it was Sir James Douglas mooching about.

Secondly, there is (inevitably?) a dungeon, such as in those days held victims hopeless of escape. Yet,  the Lady of Hautlieu and the Lady of Berkely do escape. How?  A trapdoor, carefully concealed, curiously jointed and oiled, leads to a secret postern...and away they both go. The unlikelihood of such a dungeon having a trapdoor, known only to the nun is really beyond belief! At least the trapdoor in the Inn in Anne of Geierstein was understandable.

A summary of Scott's novels is really beyond me, as I am no literary expert. John Buchan can argue that Scott was a master but not a schoolmaster of language, and sometimes grammar and syntax go by the board. However, overall, they have been a source of much enjoyment over the last sixteenth months. He is of another age (one preferable to the 21st century disaster) and regarded as totally unfashionable. But so am I ! Yes, there were tedious passages (often bearing little relevance to the flow of the story) - there are certainly longueurs and excessive padding. Too often the dialogue was Scott communing with himself, whether the characters were male or female (he is no great exponent of the female mind and temperament - Buchan). Inevitably, there were sections drenched in purple prose, usually relating to descriptions of scenery. He was at his happiest and most convincing in the novels based in Scotland, with some of the non-European scenes being clearly the result of regurgitated book reading. His prejudices were usually mine - anti Roman Catholicism (in The Monastery and The Abbot) and Covenanters (in Old Mortality); a suspicion of Oliver Cromwell's motives (in Woodstock); and a deep respect for antiquarians (Jonathan Oldbuck in The Antiquary). 

Do I have a favourite novel? I find this impossible to answer, as there were aspects to all of them which I enjoyed and few did not have moments when I wanted to skip portions. The general consensus is that the half-dozen early works, exploring Scotland's past, were among his best: Guy Mannering (1815); The Antiquary (1816); Old Mortality (1816) Rob Roy (1818); The Heart of Midlothian (1818); The Bride of Lammermoor (1819). Later on, Redgauntlet (1824) and The Fair Maid of Perth (1828) could be numbered among them, especially the former. I certainly enjoyed reading all the above. As for what might be termed the 'medieval' novels - Ivanhoe (1819); Kenilworth (1820); The Fortunes of Nigel (1822); Quentin Durward (1823); The Betrothed (1825); The Talisman (1825) and Anne of Geierstein (1829) - Quentin Durward probably appealed to me the most; although none failed to disappoint, even the maligned The Betrothed. The most recently read, Count Robert of Paris and Castle Dangerous (both 1832) do not live up to the standards of their predecessors. Then there are The Black Dwarf (1816); A Legend of Montrose (1819); The Monastery (1820); The Abbot (1820); The Pirate (1822); Peveril of the Peak (1822); St. Ronan's Well (1823);Woodstock (1826) - none in the first rank, but all with compelling characters and scenes, and interesting narratives.