St. Ronans Well | Page 3

and,
on the head of this, the mock marriage shook Clara's reason. This was
the original plan; it declares itself in the scene between Tyrrel and
Clara (vol. i. chap, ix.): "Wherefore should not sorrow be the end of sin
and folly?" The reviewer in the "Monthly Review" (1824) says "there is
a hint of some deeper cause of grief (see the confession to the brother),
but it is highly problematical." For all this the delicacy of James
Ballantyne is to blame--his delicacy, and Scott's concessions to a
respectable man and a bad critic.
The origin of "St. Ronan's Well" has been described by Lockhart in a
familiar passage. As Laidlaw, Scott, and Lockhart were riding along the
brow of the triple-peaked Eildon Hills, Scott mentioned "the row" that
was going on in Paris about "Quentin Durward." "I can't but think I
could make better play still with something German," he said. Laidlaw

grumbled at this: "You are always best, like Helen MacGregor, when
your foot is on your native heath; and I have often thought that if you
were to write a novel, and lay the scene here in the very year you were
writing it, you would exceed yourself." "Hame's hame," quoth Scott,
smiling, "be it ever sae hamely," and Laidlaw bade him "stick to
Melrose in 1823." It was now that Scott spoke of the village tragedy,
the romance of every house, of every cottage, and told a tale of some
horrors in the hamlet that lies beyond Melrose, on the north side of
Tweed. Laidlaw and Lockhart believed that this conversation suggested
"St. Ronan's Well," the scene of which has been claimed as their own
by the people of Innerleithen. This little town is beautifully situated
where the hills of Tweed are steepest, and least resemble the bosses
verdâtres of Prosper Mérimée. It is now a manufacturing town, like its
neighbours, and contributes its quota to the pollution of "the glittering
and resolute streams of Tweed." The pilgrim will scarce rival Tyrrel's
feat of catching a clean-run salmon in summer, but the scenes are
extremely pleasing, and indeed, from this point to Dryburgh, the
beautiful and fabled river is at its loveliest. It is possible that a little inn
farther up the water, "The Crook," on the border of the moorland, and
near Tala Linn, where the Covenanters held a famous assembly, may
have suggested the name of the "Cleikum." Lockhart describes the
prosperity which soon flowed into Innerleithen, and the St. Ronan's
Games, at which the Ettrick Shepherd presided gleefully. They are still
held, or were held very lately, but there will never come again such
another Shepherd, or such contests with the Flying Tailor of Ettrick.
Apart from the tragedy of Clara, doubtless the better parts of "St.
Ronan's Well" are the Scotch characters. Even our generation
remembers many a Meg Dods, and he who writes has vividly in his
recollection just such tartness, such goodness of heart, such ungoverned
eloquence and vigour of rebuke as made Meg famous, successful on the
stage, and welcome to her countrymen. These people, Mrs. Blower and
Meg, are Shakspearean, they live with Dame Quickly and Shallow, in
the hearts of Scots, but to the English general they are possibly caviare.
In the gallant and irascible MacTurk we have the waning Highlander:
he resembles the Captain of Knockdunder in "The Heart of Mid
Lothian," or an exaggerated and ill-educated Hector of "The

Antiquary." Concerning the women of the tale, it may be said that Lady
Binks has great qualities, and appears to have been drawn "with an eye
on the object," as Wordsworth says, and from the life. Lady Penelope
seems more exaggerated now than she probably did at the time, for the
fashion of affectation changes. The Winterblossoms and Quacklebens
are accurate enough in themselves, but are seen through a
Blackwoodian atmosphere, as it were, through a mist of the temporary
and boisterous Scotch humour of the day. The author occasionally
stoops to a pun, and, like that which Hood made in the hearing of
Thackeray, the pun is not good. Indeed the novel, in its view of the
decay of the Border, the ruined Laird, the frivolous foolish society of
the Well, taking the place of sturdy William of Deloraine, and farmers
like Scott's grandfather, makes a picture of decadence as melancholy as
"Redgauntlet." "Not here, O Apollo, are haunts meet for thee!"
Strangely enough, among the features of the time, Scott mentions
reckless borrowings, "accommodation," "Banks of Air." His own
business was based on a "Bank of Air," "wind-capital," as Cadell,
Constable's partner, calls it, and the bubble was just about to burst,
though Scott had no apprehension of financial ruin. A horrid power is
visible in Scott's second picture of la mauvaise pauvre, the hag who