Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey

and Newstead Abbey, by
Washington Irving

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Title: Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey
Author: Washington Irving

Release Date: April, 2005 [EBook #7948] [Yes, we are more than one
year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on June 4, 2003]
Edition: 10
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ABBOTSFORD AND NEWSTEAD ABBEY
BY
WASHINGTON IRVING

CONTENTS
ABBOTSFORD NEWSTEAD ABBEY ARRIVAL AT THE ABBEY
ABBEY GARDEN PLOUGH MONDAY OLD SERVANTS
SUPERSTITIONS OF THE ABBEY ANNESLEY HALL THE LAKE
ROBIN HOOD AND SHERWOOD FOREST ROOK CELL LITTLE
WHITE LADY

ABBOTSFORD.
By WASHINGTON IRVING.

I sit down to perform my promise of giving you an account of a visit
made many years since to Abbotsford. I hope, however, that you do not
expect much from me, for the travelling notes taken at the time are so
scanty and vague, and my memory so extremely fallacious, that I fear I
shall disappoint you with the meagreness and crudeness of my details.
Late in the evening of August 29, 1817, I arrived at the ancient little
border town of Selkirk, where I put up for the night. I had come down
from Edinburgh, partly to visit Melrose Abbey and its vicinity, but
chiefly to get sight of the "mighty minstrel of the north." I had a letter
of introduction to him from Thomas Campbell, the poet, and had
reason to think, from the interest he had taken in some of my earlier
scribblings, that a visit from me would not be deemed an intrusion.
On the following morning, after an early breakfast, I set off in a
postchaise for the Abbey. On the way thither I stopped at the gate of
Abbotsford, and sent the postilion to the house with the letter of
introduction and my card, on which I had written that I was on my way
to the ruins of Melrose Abbey, and wished to know whether it would be
agreeable to Mr. Scott (he had not yet been made a Baronet) to receive
a visit from me in the course of the morning.
While the postilion was on his errand, I had time to survey the mansion.
It stood some short distance below the road, on the side of a hill
sweeping down to the Tweed; and was as yet but a snug gentleman's
cottage, with something rural and picturesque in its appearance. The
whole front was overrun with evergreens, and immediately above the
portal was a great pair of elk horns, branching out from beneath the
foliage, and giving the cottage the look of a hunting lodge. The huge
baronial pile, to which this modest mansion in a manner gave birth was
just emerging into existence; part of the walls, surrounded by
scaffolding, already had risen to the height of the cottage, and the
courtyard in front was encumbered by masses of hewn stone.
The noise of the chaise had disturbed the quiet of the establishment.
Out sallied the warder of the castle, a black greyhound, and, leaping on
one of the blocks of stone, began a furious barking. His alarum brought
out the whole garrison of dogs:

"Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound, And curs of low degree;"
all open-mouthed and vociferous.--I should correct my quotation;--not
a cur was to be seen on the premises: Scott was too true a sportsman,
and had too high a veneration for pure blood, to tolerate a mongrel.
In a little while the "lord of the castle" himself made his appearance. I
knew him at once by the descriptions I had read and heard, and the
likenesses that had been published of him. He was tall, and of a large
and powerful frame. His dress was simple, and