No. 62.] London Magazine: A JOURNAL OF ENTERTAINMENT AND INSTRUCTION "THE moonlight fell like pity o'er the walls But deep and silent prayer; when the heart finds But seeks communion with that other state, In which it may conceal its strife of thought, * * * * * But it is utterly changed: And thus it is with links of destiny HOLYROOD, or the Abbey of Holyrood House, is the patriarchal antiquarian pile of Edinburgh. It was, however, founded some three centuries subsequent to the fair city. Simeon of Durham mentions the town of Edwinesburch as existing in the middle of the eighth century; and, in the charter of the foundation of the VOL. III. Abbey of Holyrood, in the year 1128, King David I., called it his burgh of Edwinesburg, whence we may infer it was then a royal burgh. 66 a The founding of the Abbey is due to the piety and prodigality of David, whose liberality to the clergy drew from one of his successors the pithy observation, that he was sair sanct for the crown." The legendary origin of the building is thus related: "David, while hunting in the forest of Drumsheuch, was placed in the utmost peril by the attack of a stag. When defending himself from his assailant, a cross miraculously descended from heaven into his hand, upon seeing which the stag fled in dismay." The sequel is more credible. In a dream which visited the slumbers of the monarch, he was commanded to erect an abbey on the spot of his remarkable preservation; and, in obedience to the mandate, he founded the Abbey of Holyrood House, for a class of religious men, called the Canons Regular of St. Augustine, on whom, at the same time, many privileges and much land were bestowed. Among other benefits they were allowed to erect a borough between the town of Edinburgh and the Church of Holyrood House; and the long street, called the Canongate, at Edinburgh, is the remainder of this borough. Succeeding monarchs bestowed many additional gifts upon this order, and it soon became one of the richest establishments in Scotland. Among David's provisions were some strongly tinctured with the superstition of the times: they included a right to the trial by combat, and to the water and fire ordeals; and, besides these privileges, the canons had the right of finding out "noted witches and warlocks," and of determining controversies of every kind; and their Abbey furnished an asylum to the guilty, whom it was accounted sacrilege to follow, except in the case of murder. Part of the locality is privileged to this day, the precincts of the Abbey being a sanctuary for insolvent debtors. Holy Rood, we may mention, is synonymous with Holy Cross it was usually placed over the screen which divided the nave from the chancel of our churches. To our ancestors, we are told, it conveyed a full type of the Christian Church: the nave representing the Church militant, and the chancel the Church triumphant; denoting that all who would go from the one to the other, must pass nnder the Rood; that is, carry the Cross, and suffer affliction. Most of the Roods were taken down in 1547; but several remained till late in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. In the year 1177, a National Council was held in the Abbey, at Holyrood, in consequence of a dispute between the English and Scottish clergy, as to the submission of the latter to the Church of England; a legate having been sent by the Pope to take cognizance of it. In 1332, the building was stripped and spoiled in Baliol's conquest of Scotland, under Edward III.; and in 1385, it suffered similarly, under Richard II. In 1457, Archibald Crawfurd, Lord High Treasurer of Scotland, was appointed Abbot of Holyrood; and he rebuilt the Abbey in the architectural style of his period, thus substituting the Pointed for the Norman employed by the royal founder, David I. shire, and commemorated the event in the following inscription: "When Leith, a town of good account in Scotland, And Edinburgh, the principal city of that nation, was on fire, Sir Richard Lea, Kt., saved me out of the flames, and brought me into England. In gratitude to him for his kindness I, who, heretofore, served only at the baptism of the children Do now most willingly offer the same service Lea! the conqueror, hath so commanded. But this record of the pride of conquest did not remain any time in its new location; for, during the Civil Wars, it fell into the hands of the regicides, and was sold by them as old metal, and melted down. In 1547, after the sanguinary battle of Pinkie, the monks made their escape from Holyrood; and the victorious English under the Earl of Hertford stripped the church and palace of the lead roofing, and carried off the bells. At the Reformation, the monastery was dissolved; its revenues then amounting, in money, to 2507. sterling, anually, and in kind to 442 bolls of wheat, 640 bolls of bear, 560 bolls of oats, 500 capons, 20 dozen of hens, 2 dozen of salmon, 12 loads of salt, and of swine a number not precisely ascertained. In the great spoliation, the fine church was stripped of its valuables: from a mistaken principle of religious zeal and devotion, the earl of Glencairn laid waste the sacred building, and broke into pieces its sculptures and costly furniture. The chapel was, however, entirely refitted by James the Seventh, of Scotland; by whose order the floor was paved with marble, sculptured and painted with shields and armorial devices; the king also erected a magnificent throne, and twelve stalls for the knights companions of the order of St. Andrew. There was likewise constructed a large and finely toned organ; and workmen were sent from London, with orders to set up the figures of the twelve apostles in as many niches on one side of the interior, and a corresponding number of prophets on the other. This design was violently opposed by the populace, who alleged that the king intended to establish popish rites and ceremonies, and that these statues were intended as objects of adoration: consequently, the whole of the workmanship was defaced, and the artizans were compelled to desist from their undertaking. At the restoration, Charles the Second completely repaired the church, and ordained that it should be in future set apart as a chapel royal to the palace, and be no longer the parochial church of the Canongate. It was, therefore, refitted with great splendour; a throne was erected for the king, and twelve stalls for the knights of the Order of the Thistle. Unfortunately, the organ which James had placed there was not removed, and this, coupled with the belief that mass had been celebrated in the chapel, rendered it so obnoxious to the Presbyterians, that, at the Revolution, a lawless mob broke in and stripped the church of all its internal For about four centuries, the establishment flourished decorations. Fanatical zeal and political apostasy went as an abbey; and, during the latter part of that period, further. They violated the sacred habitations of the it was the residence of the sovereign. In the year dead; they profaned the sepulchre of their kings; they 1528, James V. added a palace to the conventual build-outraged its sanctity by tearing open the coffins that ings: a portion of this palace remains to the present day, and consists of the towers of the north-west angle of the quadrangular court. It was Returning to the monastic history of the place, we find that, when the Earl of Hertford entered Scotland, in 1544, the Abbey was almost entirely burnt by his soldiers; the choir and transept of the church being destroyed, and nothing preserved but the nave. then that Sir Richard Lea, Captain of the English Pioneers, carried off the brazen font, in which the children of the royal family had been usually baptized he presented it to the church of St. Alban's, in Hertford contained the mouldering ashes of James the Fifth; of Magdalen of France, his first Queen; of the Earl of Darnley, once their monarch; and others who had held the Scottish sceptre. They sold the lead of which the coffins were made, and left the bodies exposed, an unseemly spectacle, and the degrading memorial of popular frenzy. The walls of the church, which thus withstood the fury of the mob, have since been brought to the ground by the unskilfulness of an architect in replacing the old roof by a heavier one of flag-stones. This was done in 1758: the walls were already upwards of six hundred years old, but they bore their new weight until 1768, when the whole came to the ground. Arnot, in his History of Edinburgh, published in 1788, thus describes the effect of the catastrophe: "When we lately visited the spot, we saw, in the middle of the chapel, the broken shafts of the columns, which had been borne down by the weight of the roof. Upon looking into the vaults, the doors of which were open, we found, that what had escaped the fury of the mob at the revolution, became a prey to the rapacity of those who ransacked the church after it fell. In 1776, we had seen the body of James the Fifth and some others in the leaden coffins; the coffins were now stolen, the head of Queen Magdalene, which was then entire, and even beautiful, and the skull of Darnley, were also stolen; his thigh-bones, however, still remain, and are proofs of the vastness of his stature." The chapel at Holyrood was, in its pristine state, a magnificent structure, in the pointed style of architecture; its west front has been compared with Melrose Abbey, Ely and York cathedrals. The highly-enriched windows which lighted the rood-loft are much admired; the columns, mouldings, and sculptures of the west door are executed in a very bold style. Immediately above the door is a small square stone bearing this inscription: The north side of the ruinous pile still has its ornamental buttresses, enriched with canopied niches and pinnacles this was the work of Abbot Crawfurd, in the reign of James the Third. The south side is likewise adorned with buttresses, but differing from those on the north. At the east end is the great window, shown in one of our illustrations: its mullions were greatly damaged by a storm in 1795, but they were restored in 1816, with the materials found about the chapel. In this illustration, too, are shown some of the finely sculptured capitals, clustered columns and arches, the smaller decorated arches of the triforium, the pinnacle of one of the buttresses, and the broken shafts, in massive ruin, set off by the light streaming through the open stories and mullions of the great window. We should not omit to mention, that at the north-west corner of the chapel is the belfry, a small tower, which contains a marble monument and statue of Robert Lord Belhaven, who died in 1639. Almost immediately adjoining the chapel ruins is the palace of Holyrood, a handsome quadrangular building, with a central court, ninety-four feet square; its front is flanked with double castellated towers, "imparting to the edifice that military character which the events of Scottish history have so often proved to have been requisite in her royal residences." A great part of this palace was burnt by the English in 1544, but it was soon rebuilt on a more extensive scale; a large portion of this structure was, however, burnt to the ground by Cromwell's soldiers; it lay in ruins until 1670, when, by direction of Charles II., the present palace was commenced, after a design by Sir William Bruce. Around the interior of the quadrangle extends an arcade. The largest apartment is the picture gallery, 150 feet long by twenty-seven broad; upon the walls of which are suspended the portraits of 106 Scottish kings, as Humphrey Clinker says, "mostly by the same hand, painted either from the imagination, or porters hired to sit for the purpose." In the olden time many a scene of courtly gaiety has enlivened this gloomy hall; among the last were the balls given by Prince Charles Edward, in 1745. The election of the representative peers of Scotland is now the only ceremony performed within its walls. In the south side of the quadrangle is the hall of state, fitted up for the levées of George IV. in 1822; and in the eastern side is the suite of apartments occupied by Charles X. (of France) and his family in 1830-3. The palace is shown to strangers by the domestics of the Duke of Hamilton, hereditary keeper. The north-west portion is all that remains of the palace of James V. The most interesting relic is the bed of Queen Mary, which remains in the same state as when last occupied by that unhappy princess. The closet where the murderers of Rizzio surprised their victim, is also shown; as also the trap-door by which they ascended, and dark stains on the floor, stated to be the marks of Rizzio's blood. Holyrood is, of course, one of the most attractive curiosities of the city of Edinburgh, and is visited by thousands of persons annually. Mrs. Sigourney thus apostrophises it. "Old Holyrood! Edina's pride, Where erst, in regal state array'd, And chaunted 'neath their hallow'd shade. Revel, and dance, and pageant led, Though age on age have o'er thee roll'd With Gothic column's clustered strength, Mrs. Sigourney's visit is pleasantly detailed. "The first view of Holyrood," says the poetess, "is in strong contrast with the splendid buildings and classic columns of the Calton Hill. After admiring the monuments of Dugald Stewart, and Nelson, and the fine edifice of the High-school, you look down at the extremity of the Canongate upon the old palace, that, seated at the foot of Salisbury Craig, nurses, in comparative desolation, the memories of the past. Its chapel, floored with tombstones, and open to the winds of heaven, admonishes human power and pride of their alliance with vanity. "Through an iron gate we saw, in a damp miserable vault, the bones of some of the kings of Scotland; among them those of Henry Darnley, without even the covering of that 'little charity of earth' which the homeless beggar finds. In another part of the royal chapel, unmarked by any inscription, are the remains of the lovely young queen, Magdalene, daughter of Francis I. of France, who survived but a short time her marriage with James V. In the same vicinity sleep two infant princes named Arthur; one the son of him who fell at Flodden Field, the other a brother of Mary of Scotland. Scarcely a single monument, deserving notice as a work of art, is to be found at Holyrood, except that of Viscount Belhaven, a privy councillor of Charles I. who died in 1639. He is commemorated by a statue of Parian marble, which is in singular contrast with the rough black walls of the ruinous tower where it is placed. It has a diffuse and elaborate inscription, setting forth that Nature supplied his mind by wisdom, for what was wanting in his education; that he would easily get angry, and as easily, while speaking, grow calm; and that he enjoyed the sweetest society in his only wife, N. Murray, daughter of the Baron of Abercairney, who died in eighteen months after her marriage.” (1) It is contended by Miss Strickland, in the last published volume of her "Lives of the Queens of England," that the common belief regarding this bed is a mistake; that it was the bed, not of Mary Queen of Scots, but of Mary Beatrice, queen of James II. of England.-EDITOR, "The grave of Rizzio is pointed out under one of the passages to a piazza, covered with a flat stone. Over the mantel-piece of the narrow closet, where, from his last fatal supper, he was torn forth by the conspirators, is a portrait, said to be of him. Its authenticity is exceedingly doubtful; yet it has been honoured by one of the beautiful effusions of Mrs. Hemans, written during her visit to Holyrood in 1829: They haunt me still-those calm, pure, holy eyes! Is there; and yet, how dark a death was thine!' * * * "We found ourselves attracted to make repeated visits to Holyrood; and never, on these occasions, omitting its roofless chapel, so rich in recollections. It required, however, a strong effort of imagination to array it in the royal splendour with which the nuptials of Queen Mary were there solemnized, and, seventy years after, the coronation of her grandson, Charles the First. The procession, the ringing of bells, the gay tapestry streaming from the windows of the city; the rich costumes of the barons, bishops, and other nobility; the king, in his robes of crimson velvet, attending devoutly to the sacred services of the day, receiving the oaths of allegiance, or scattering, through his almoner, broad pieces of gold among the people, are detailed with minuteness and delight by the Scottish chronicles of that period. Because this was the most glorious and manifique coronation that ever was seen in this kingdom,' says Sir James Balfour, and the first king of Great Britain that ever was crowned in Scotland, to behold these triumphs and ceremonies, many strangers of greate quality resorted hither from divers countries.' "Who can muse at Holyrood without retracing the disastrous fortunes of the House of Stuart, whose images seem to glide from among the ruined arches where they once held dominion? James the First was a prisoner through the whole of his early life, and died under the assassin's steel. James the Second was destroyed by the bursting of one of his own cannons at Roxburgh. James the Third was defeated in battle by rebels headed by his own son, and afterwards assassinated. James the Fourth fell with the flower of his army at Flodden Field, and failed even of the rites of sepulchre. James the Fifth died of grief, in the prime of life, at the moment of the birth of his daughter, who after twenty years of imprisonment in England, was condemned to the scaffold. James the First of England, though apparently more fortunate than his ancestors, was menaced by conspiracy, suffered the loss of his eldest son, and saw his daughter a crownless queen. Charles the First had his head struck off in front of his own palace. Charles the Second was compelled to fly from his country, and, after twelve years banishment, returned to an inglorious reign. James the Second abdicated his throne, lost three kingdoms, died in exile, and was the last of his race who inhabited the palace of Holyrood." a row of winter greens transports us to Aladdin's garden, where each plant appears an enormous emerald, covered by a profusion of small but precious brilliants. Nor is the change wrought by the frost less perceptible in the animated part of creation; the shepherd crosses the track with a brisker step, and his dog gambols beside him with a more lively bound, every now and then starting forward and rolling in the snow; the cattle hasten less heavily to the farm-yard, and low forth their expectations of fresh fodder; the pigeons assemble on the sunny side of the dovecote, plume their wings, and close their gentle eyes with an air of enjoyment, occasionally expressed by a low half-suppressed cooing; the old horse winneys cheerfully from the stable, as it hears the labourer's tread; the maids have a laugh as well as a frown when they find the pump-handle resist all their efforts to move it; but a remedy is at hand where the heavy log is piled upon the kitchen fire, and the hissing kettle joins its merry chorus to the renewed vivacity around. The bright sunshine penetrates through the house, and in breakfast-room as well as hall its influence is felt. So it was at Kirkfield, as each member of the party entered the saloon, uttering in various tone,-"O, what a cold morning!" rubbing their hands, and crowding round the blazing fire. "We shall get out again, at last," said Charles Loraine; "though I fear the depth of snow is against another trial of the low-closes, so we must devise some other scheme. What think you of a ramble, Justine? have you plenty of furs and strong shoes to guard you against an adventure?" "I doubt my cousin's chaussure is not altogether suited to the country," remarked Sophia; "but we can supply her with snow-boots, and then I hope she may be induced to venture." Suppose we form a party of pioneers," proposed Cyril," and clear the path along the terrace?" "Quite right; no task could be better suited to warm us; so come along this very moment. Run, Neville, to muster all the spades and brooms you can find, and before noon we shall have cleared a way to the vicarage, and then we can help to dig out the Forsters, if they are buried in this snow-storm. We shall find Charlotte manufacturing flannel petticoats, and Alice chirping like a cricket in the chimney-corner-Fred, I shall have to teach you how to handle a spade, I suppose.—I hope you will not be very stupid; your character will depend greatly upon your exertions, for I heard Lucy quoting the other day somebody's sage observation, that 'vigour of mind in a healthy frame is always accompanied by vigour of body.' I believe it was intended as a compliment to myself, for I was chasing little Laura round the room at the time." "And therefore your self-love has retained the remark, Master Charles !" The implements were soon procured, and the young men plied them so diligently, that at luncheon-time they returned with the news that the vicarage was unburied, and invited the girls to accompany them thither. Cloaks, shawls, boas, and snow-boots, were quickly sought for; and all, except Rosaline, who was thought too delicate to encounter the blast, were soon mounting the slope of the terrace, and enjoying the exhilarating effects of the keen air. Laura Barlow and Agnes had little more self-command than Dash, and exhibited their exuberant spirits pretty much in the same manner, bounding out of the path, now to catch a view of the snow-covered hills, now to mark an effect of light and shade, and now to see if a favourite arbour or summertemple had resisted the storm uninjured. At length Charles caught the infection of their mirth, and challenged them to a race, by which they reached the lodge before the rest of the party, and poured out to old Emma a torrent of inquiry after the villagers. So large a party nearly filled the pretty little parlour of the vicarage; and, if the Forsters were glad to see them, the Loraines were no less pleased to recognise an | unexpected guest there. At a table, loaded with books and papers, sat the good vicar, pen in hand, his eldest daughter, by his side, patiently turning over his references for him; and, when not required at this literary labour, if not exactly working, as Charles had predicted, at flannel-petticoats, certainly making some article of useful clothing for the poor. Her sister Alice was busily rolling up parcels of similar articles, assisted by a tall lovely girl in deep mourning, who was carolling forth a Scotch ballad, and whom Sophia and Lucy delightedly welcomed as Margaret Campbell. "You really and truly are a Maid of the Mist, Miss Campbell!" exclaimed Charles; "a real Scottish witch, for you could only have alighted here from off a broomstick,-the roads being impassable for every other vehicle. Pray show me your steed, for our English broomsticks are not so accommodating; and I can assure you we have had to wield them with no little toil in order to win our way hither." "Charles is determined not to have his labours overlooked, though the credit of the plan is Cyril's," whispered Lucy to Charlotte Forster; "but tell me, when did Margaret arrive?" "The very night before the storm set in. Her uncle having business, which called him unexpectedly to London, she wisely took advantage of his escort to pay her promised visit to us now, instead of in the spring; sure to find us at home, and, I trust, likely to be benefited by the change of scene." "Poor girl; I heard her voice-sweet as ever-when we entered the room; but there is a shadow over her bright eyes, a change in her light step, to tell us of the trials she has undergone since we last saw her!-Father, mother, and an only brother!-Death has indeed made fearful inroads in her family!" "Deeply has poor Margaret felt these strokes, yet she bears up under them with the same cheerful spirit which ever marked her under lighter trials. In prosperity she acknowledged this spirit as a gift from God, and now she finds that the possessor of this, as of every gift from above, will be called upon to exercise it in submission to His will." In the meantime Miss Campbell received the welcome of her friends, and was introduced to the rest of the party, Justine and Frederic l'Estrange being strangers in all but name, and Cyril Loraine little less strange, although he claimed to be recognised as the boyish companion of days long passed. "Mamma and aunt Martha will be delighted to hear of your arrival, and so will Rosaline," said Sophia. "Dear kind aunt Martha! I am glad to hear she is with you, though grieved that Rosaline is not strong enough to be allowed to venture on a walk. Is Mr. Hamilton staying within to amuse her?" "Oh, no! Poor James has not yet been able to leave his brother, who was taken il! at college from the exhaustion of too close study; but we do hope he will be here soon." "His brother ill? That must be a trial. I trust he will be spared to him after all the self-denial he has undergone in order to give him a good education.I trust he will be spared to him! Where is he, for Kirkfield at Christmas will not look like itself without him?" "He has taken William from Oxford to his aunt in Shropshire, where he will be well nursed; and James still hopes to get to us for a short time, though he cannot be spared from his curacy much longer." "I hope he will come very, very soon," said Agnes. "Has he any prospect of a living, and does he still intend to have a Rose in his parsonage garden?" "I think there is no immediate prospect of preferment," answered Sophia; "but I do think Rose is becoming more and more sedate, and better fitted for the station to which he has half-jestingly destined her from her childhood." |