order, to conduct them to an audience at the Burgundian Camp in Dijon. That place they reached on the second day of travel, and there had an important interview with the bold Duke, — whose career from that time is described vividly by Scott. A result of the interview was, that Charles promised assistance for Margaret of Anjou; and, consequently, Sir Arthur, to aid her interests, - that he cordially served, — became more widely separated from one whom he loved on the Rhine, by being despatched to Aix. Dijon, now a large, flourishing town, a centre of wine trade, is passed by large numbers of travellers on the main railway line from Paris to Lyons, one hundred and ninety-six miles nearly south-east from the former, and almost as far south-west from Strasbourg. For centuries it was a residence and chief town of the lords of Burgundy, and even yet contains relics of their presence. Fortifications, parts at least of a huge old castle, several remarkably rich churches, particularly St. Bénigne, the present cathedral, with a spire three hundred feet high,—and, in the principal public place, the Place d'Armes, or Royale, the ancient palace of the Dukes and States of Burgundy, render it very interesting. In the old Rue de Forges, also, are, or recently were, the beautiful remains of the Hotel Chambellan, a town mansion built at about the time of the story, and such a building as some of the persons represented in it might have seen or occupied. While the Burgundian army was stationed around the city, the Duke commanding went in great pomp to the palace to meet his Estates, or Parliament, for the chief purpose of obtaining certain supplies. These, to his intense disgust, were refused him. While he was consequently excited, the Swiss deputies, who had been for some time out of the action of the story, presented themselves before him. Several of the wiser advocated peace; but one - Donnerhugel- grew indiscreetly defiant. The reception and the session of the council became agitated, and the deputies were dismissed with threats by the enraged Duke. The tempest that finally burst upon him was gathering. His enemy, Louis XI., he heard was in league with England against him. He suspected that the Swiss would be induced to join the allies; and accordingly, to attack them singly, he opened the campaigns disastrous and fatal to him. Sir Arthur de Vere reached Aix, capital of the domains of Queen Margaret's father, "good King René." This ancient city, formerly capital of Provence, is eighteen miles nearly north of Marseilles. It now contains antiquities dating from Roman to late mediæval periods; feudal walls; narrow, quaint streets; and mineral waters. In the Cours, the principal street, is a fountain that bears a statue, by David, "of le Bon Roi René, holding a bunch of Muscat grapes, the cultivation of which he introduced into France. During his reign Aix was a scene of gayety and luxury, and the seat of art and literature;" "the resort of the troubadour; the home of poetry, gallantry, and politeness; the theatre of the courts of love and of the gay fêtes and tournaments" of chivalry. There may yet be seen the remains of the old royal town, and prominent in it the ancient cathedral of St. Sauveur, with its "restored" Baptistry. The spirit of the genial king and the brilliancy of the past seem, however, to have departed, and dirt and commerce in sweet oil to have occupied the place. Of its former life and aspect the novel gives admirable account. While Queen Margaret was there, endeavoring to persuade her father to resign his sovereignty, that he feebly held, into the hands of Charles the Bold, intelligence arrived of the Duke's defeat at Grandson (March 3, 1476) by the Swiss, whom he had attacked. She then desired Sir Arthur to rejoin his father, and the two again met. Her own career terminated suddenly, and affected plans of the Lancastrians in a manner that need not be told here, by her death in the ball-room at Aix, a very effective scene in the novel, but one, we may believe, imagined by Scott. Subsequently Charles suffered a second and more severe defeat at Morat (June 22, 1476), after intelligence of which the two travellers went to La Rivière, a small castle "in upper Burgundy . . . about twenty miles to the south of the town of Salins," states the novel. Thither Charles had retreated; and there the two found him early in July, at first gloomy and disappointed, afterward preparing for another attack upon the Swiss. This was made at Nancy during the following winter, and was terribly decisive to him. Sir Arthur experienced also his part in the conflict, although his antagonist was only a single one of the same people, - Rudolph Donnerhugel, his rival, who encountered him and revived the repressed quarrel begun at Geierstein Castle, by charging him with dishonorable aspiration to the favors of the then acknowledged Baroness of Arnheim. The vindictive and jealous Swiss promptly challenged Sir Arthur. The rivals fought, and Rudolph was killed. One obstacle between the survivor and the object of his affection was thus removed; but another presented itself peculiarly, in a consent by Count Albert of Geierstein - the ever mysterious Black Priest himself— to a marriage of the lady who was influencing Sir Arthur's life, and who, through her innocent charms, had incited the fatal duel. The portentous count and priest was, however, leading in a greater affair, that, by a dark tragedy it caused, determined the fortunes of lady and of lover. Charles of Burgundy was startlingly, at night, summoned to appear before the bolder, stronger Vehm. The Duke, justly, attributed the citation to the Priest, against whom he attempted his fullest vengeance. He refused to notice the order in any other manner than to endeavor the arrest of those who made it. But he had to learn, as lesser men had learned, and as others beheld, the terrible power he had defied. Upon the field of his final and utter defeat near Nancy, his plundered body was found lying dead, closely beside the lifeless form of the Black Priest, "as if they had fallen in the act of mutual fight, — the priest habited as a Ducal guardsman," "a disguise probably assumed to execute the fatal commission of the Secret Tribunal." Contrasted with this gloom and destructive storm of war, brightened the fortunes of Sir Arthur and of the Rhenish Baroness, like sunlight across a heavy cloud, such as in all ages can beam from human hearts upon social darkness and turbulence, even although sombre and wild as those of the Middle Age. Out of adventures and dangers and intrigues, hopes and fears, merely mentioned in this chapter, grew reward and peace for a brave and faithful lover, and for the kind heart of the mountain maid, — the lady of Arnheim. Remnants of former wealth enabled Sir Arthur's father to obtain "a commodious residence near to Geierstein." There, undisturbed by mediæval disorder and peril, “the high blood, and the moderate fortunes of" the heroine of the story, and of him who gained her favor, "joined to their mutual inclination, made their marriage in every respect rational" and happy. Time glided on. Once more the star of Lancaster was in the ascendant. The exiles returned to England, - become to them a land of security," and the manners and beauty of Anne of Geierstein attracted as much admiration at the English Court as formerly in the Swiss Châlet." XLVI. "THE TALISMAN." Twenty-first Novel of the Series; Written, 1824-25; Published June, 1825; FRO `ROM Aix, — the last place associated with "Anne of Geierstein" that travellers may visit during this tour, —a very probable course will be to Marseilles. Thence many persons depart for the East, and among them may be those who search carefully for the most distant portions of the Lands of Scott. Steamers of the "Messageries,” or other company, can land explorers at Jaffa, port of the Holy Land, from which localities associated with "The Talisman" are most accessible. This romantic and heroic composition, second of the "Tales of the Crusaders," appeared in company with the first, "The Betrothed," and has generally been considered superior to it. Few of Scott's prose fictions had a more enthusiastic greeting, we are told; and his future literary plans were, indeed, "considerably modified in consequence of the new burst of applause which attended the brilliant procession of his Saladin and Cœur de Lion," whose two characters and opposed causes are portrayed in this work. Its stirring action is not only laid during one of the most animated periods of the Crusades, the Third, but its scenes also are in the Holy Land itself, amid the places and the conflicts distinguished in those wars. One will, however, be able to identify few of the localities described in the romance. Most of them are imaginary, and yet are illustrative of those that witnessed the most extraordinary military and zealous manifestations of the religious enthusiasm of the Middle Ages. The same patriotic and national temperament, that caused Sir Walter to render so many of his works intensely Scottish, caused him to introduce prominently some fellow-countryman in nearly all those compositions of which the subject and localization were far removed from Scotland, -as in "Quentin Durward,” and as in this work. Its opening presents to us a Scottish Crusader, calling himself Sir Kenneth, the Knight of the Leopard; who, according to the rank established in novels, is the hero of the work. He was, beneath "the burning sun of Syria," "pacing slowly along the sandy deserts which lie in the vicinity of the Dead Sea,". -a district known to many latter-day visitors to Jerusalem, that has tried their endurance, though not to the degree it tried that of the iron-strong warriors of the Red-cross. His refuge for the night was the cell of a hermit of Engedi, a man who, like most of the medieval characters that we know, had in his private life a mystery. Engedi was once a town "in the wilderness of Judah," about the middle of the western shore of the Dead Sea. "Here is a rich plain, half a mile square, sloping very gently from the base of the mountains to the water, and shut in on the north by a lofty promontory. About a mile up the western acclivity, and at an elevation of some four hundred feet above the plain, is the fountain of Ain Jidy, from which the place gets its name," and perhaps identical with a fountain described in the novel. The history of this spot reaches back nearly four thousand years into early Jewish times, and continually suggests connection with sacred affairs. From the hermit's cell, Sir Kenneth was led to the chapel of a convent, for monasticism had penetrated those remote regions. There among the devotees he recognized Lady Edith Plantagenet, a kinswoman of King Richard of England and the heroine of the Tale. He also witnessed several curious acts by peculiar persons. The convent may reasonably be thought to have been that of St. Saba, situated about four leagues to the south-east of Jerusalem, and known to travellers for its massive and impressive character, and for its commanding and picturesque position on lofty crags above the Kidron. It is said to have been founded twelve hundred years ago, and has long been one of the chief Greek monasteries in Palestine. Its size, intricacy, and strangeness render it a place in which almost any romantic incident might well be imagined. Thence the scene changed to the camp of the King, "then stationed betwixt Jean d'Acre and Ascalon; and containing that army with which he of the Lion Heart had promised himself a triumphant march to Jerusalem, and in which he would probably have succeeded, if not hindered by the jealousies of the Christian princes engaged in the same enterprise," "who, his equals in rank, were yet far his inferiors in courage, hardihood, and military talents." The machinations and quarrels of these personages form no small part of the story, in connection with the contrasted characters of the two great leaders, - Richard the Christian, and Saladin the Moslem, — and with the affairs of Sir Kenneth and the Lady Edith. At this camp |