Anne of Geierstein; Or, The Maiden of the Mist. Volume 1 (of 2)

With "The Fair Maid of Perth" we take farewell of Scott at his best, though "even from the stubble one may tell what the grain has been." "Anne of Geierstein" was no favourite of the author's, and, as Mr. Matthew Arnold says, the world does not contemplate with pleasure what the poet creates without joy. The novel was begun in the late summer or autumn of 1828, but for part of the time Scott neglected his Diary. He was become (June 19) "a writing automaton," and suffered much pain from rheumatism and rheumatic headaches. He feared that this affected "the quality of the stuff," but he was not one who "waited for the spark from heaven to fall." He plodded on, in these late years, invita Minerva. Of old the goddess had generally been willing; but now his task took the likeness of journalism, the round had to be trodden, be he well or be he ill. Masterpieces are not written thus: it is the moral effort that we admire, and the contempt for fame, even for art, compared with the respect for duty. Scott believed in his duty and in his power of will, but imagination will not obey a moral dictate. We find Ballantyne "complaining of his manuscript": the wearied hand no longer wrote legibly, despite the mechanical supports which he used. "I cannot trace my pieds de mouche but with great labour and trouble" (June 22). He "wrought and endured," afflicted by a hypochondriacal melancholy: "it may be chased away by study or by exercise." He is nobly master of his fate, in every event. In July we find him "beginning Simond's 'Switzerland,'" in search of local colour, for he did not know Switzerland, nor even the Rhine. His description of a storm in the mountains is, in the circumstances, wonderfully accurate. He simply drew the hills above Loch Skene on a grander scale. Morritt and Sir James Stuart of Allanbank, who were well acquainted with the scenes, were "surprised at the felicity with which he divined its character, and outdid, by the force of imagination, all the efforts of a thousand actual tourists." Their praise much encouraged Sir Walter (Lockhart, ix. 279). Ballantyne "bored and bothered me with his criticisms," he said, for he did not pretend to be a geologist, and to describe the formation of the rocks. In January he "muzzed on"--I can call it little better--with "Anne of Geierstein." The "materials are excellent, but the power of using them is failing." In February (1829) he was better "pleased with his work." The reason why he was better pleased may perhaps be gathered from his Journal (Feb. 17): "I called on Skene, and borrowed a volume of his journal to get some information about Burgundy and Provence. Something may be made out of King René, but I wish I had thought of him sooner." This is elucidated by a note of Mr. Skene's: "Sir Walter wished to see a paper which I had some time before contributed to the Memoirs of the Society of Antiquaries on the subject of the secret tribunals of Germany, and upon which, accordingly, he grounded his scene in the novel." Mr. Skene now suggested the introduction of King René of Provence, as he himself could give topographical details. "He liked the idea much ... and the whole dénouement of the story was changed, and the Provence part woven into it, in the form in which it ultimately came forth" (Journal, ii. 235, note). On March 8 "Cadell totally condemns 'Anne of Geierstein' ... great dishonour in this, as Trinculo says, besides an infinite loss. Yet worse has succeeded, but it was while the fashion of the thing was fresh. I retrenched a good deal about the Troubadours, which was really hors de place" (April 14). After some weeks of work and reflection, he came to the conclusion that more pains would not serve his turn. Inspiration came at once, if it came at all, and now his "braes and burn-sides" were ceasing to inspire him. "I don't know why or wherefore, but I hate 'Anne'" (April 27). "The story will end, and shall end, because it must end, and so here goes." He finished "Anne of Geierstein" on April 29, and began an historical work for Dr. Lardner on the same day. He had been writing reviews and other trifles all the time. "Were necessity out of the question, I would take the same literary labour from choice--something more leisurely, though."

The book was published in the middle of May, and was very popular in Switzerland. Lockhart praises "occasional outbursts of the old poetic spirit," as in the Alpine storm, the wild climb of Arthur, the duel, the noble picture of the battle of Granson. No one else then writing in England could have matched these passages. Lockhart especially admired the sympathy with which an old and weary man "depicts the feelings of youth with all their original glow and purity." "He was always living over again in his children, young at heart whenever he looked on them, and the world that was opening on them and their friends. But, above all, he had a firm belief in the future reunion of those whom death had parted."

The novel is unlucky, perhaps, in the period chosen, which is not sufficiently familiar to most readers. The forlorn cause of the House of Lancaster now affects us very little, and the passion of Margaret of Anjou is remote--it cannot stir us like the last view of the King, in "Redgauntlet." The mechanism of the volume does suggest the favourite topics of Mrs. Radcliffe, and the mysterious appearances and disappearances of the heroine need a more plausible explanation than they receive. The prophecy turning on the drawing of the bow is rather dropped out of sight, and the magic scenes connected with the opal and the mysterious bride suffer from being explained away. The miracle is more easy of belief than the explanation. Though Charles the Bold is painted with power in his pride and in his fall, he does not interest us like Louis XI. or James VI., either in this novel or in "Quentin Durward." It is probable enough that Scott, in his intended continuation of "Quentin Durward," had this very period in his eye: perhaps we need not regret that, with failing powers, he left Quentin out of the tale. His place is filled by the good dull Sigismund, who always warms up into a kind of brilliance when action is to be taken or described. The hero and heroine do not differ much from Scott's usual characters, in similar romantic circumstances, but Anne has less of originality and charm, of course, than the women of his earlier novels. The story, even on the least favourable estimate, is a rapid novel of adventure: incident follows incident, and, as a modern critic says, "the novel of character is one we often take up, the novel of incident is one we cannot lay down;" if it be written with the spirit of Scott, or of Dumas. That friendly master of romance was just about to take up the pen which fell from the fingers of Sir Walter--

Uno avulso non deficit alter.

Scott's imitators, in his lifetime, produced little or nothing of merit: he was, however, to leave successors, the author of "Vingt Ans Après" first and greatest; the author of "Esmond"; the author, we may surely add, of "The Master of Ballantrae." Much as these differ from Scott, both in quantity and quality of genius, in method, in style, they are all "sealed of his tribe," like the spiritual children of Ben Jonson. Scott is he