The following is from the same MS., and gives an account of
the visit to Bothwell Castle here alluded to:—
‘It was exceedingly delightful to enter thus unexpectedly upon
such a beautiful region. The castle stands nobly, overlooking
the Clyde. When we came up to it, I was hurt to see that
flower-borders had taken place of the natural overgrowings of
the ruin, the scattered stones, and wild plants. It is a large and
grand pile of red freestone, harmonising perfectly with the rocks
of the river, from which, no doubt, it has been hewn. When I
was a little accustomed to the unnaturalness of a modern garden,
I could not help admiring the excessive beauty and luxuriance
of some of the plants, particularly the purple-flowered clematis,
and a broad-leafed creeping plant without flowers, which scrambled
up the castle wall, along with the ivy, and spread its vine-like
branches so lavishly that it seemed to be in its natural situation,
and one could not help thinking that, though not self-planted
among the ruins of this country, it must somewhere have its native
abode in such places. If Bothwell Castle had not been close to
the Douglas mansion, we should have been disgusted with the
possessor's miserable conception of adorning such a venerable
ruin; but it is so very near to the house, that of necessity the
pleasure-grounds must have extended beyond it, and perhaps the
neatness of a shaven lawn and the complete desolation natural
to a ruin might have made an unpleasing contrast; and,
besides being within the precincts of the pleasure-grounds,
and so very near to the dwelling of a noble family, it has
forfeited, in some degree, its independent majesty, and becomes
a tributary to the mansion: its solitude being interrupted,
it has no longer the command over the mind in sending
it back into past times, or excluding the ordinary feelings which
we bear about us in daily life. We had then only to regret
that the castle and the house were so near to each other; and it
was impossible not to regret it; for the ruin presides in state
over the river, far from city or town, as if it might have a
peculiar privilege to preserve its memorials of past ages, and
maintain its own character for centuries to come. We sat upon
a bench under the high trees, and had beautiful views of the
different reaches of the river, above and below. On the opposite
bank, which is finely wooded with elm and other trees, are the
remains of a priory built upon a rock; and rock and ruin are so
blended, that it is impossible to separate the one from the other.
Nothing can be more beautiful than the little remnant of this
holy place; elm trees (for we were near enough to distinguish
them by their branches) grow out of the walls, and overshadow
a small, but very elegant window. It can scarcely be conceived
what a grace the castle and priory impart to each other; and
the river Clyde flows on, smooth and unruffled below, seeming
to my thoughts more in harmony with the sober and stately
images of former times, than if it had roared over a rocky
channel, forcing its sound upon the ear. It blended gently with
the warbling of the smaller birds, and the chattering of the
larger ones, that had made their nests in the ruins. In this
fortress the chief of the English nobility were confined after the
battle of Bannockburn. If a man is to be a prisoner, he scarcely
could have a more pleasant place to solace his captivity; but I
thought that, for close confinement, I should prefer the banks of
a lake, or the seaside. The greatest charm of a brook or river
is in the liberty to pursue it through its windings: you can then
take it in whatever mood you like; silent or noisy, sportive or
quiet. The beauties of a brook or river must be sought, and the
pleasure is in going in search of them; those of a lake or of the
sea come to you of themselves. These rude warriors cared
little, perhaps, about either; and yet, if one may judge from the
writings of Chaucer, and from the old romances, more interesting
passions were connected with natural objects in the days of
chivalry than now; though going in search of scenery, as it is
called, had not then been thought of. I had previously heard nothing
of Bothwell Castle, at least nothing that I remembered;
therefore, perhaps, my pleasure was greater, compared with what
I received elsewhere, than others might feel.’
—MS. Journal.
and have