The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1889-08-31

Aooihs IN Woiio vi lhlo opullihI oiS
thickly covered with Highland targets,
Lochaber axes, broad swords, old mus
kets, and other instruments of warfare,
stag's horns occupying conspicuous po-
sitions in the decorative arrangement.
From this grand depository of Scottish
history, memorials and arms, | drove to
Melrose Abbey. was somewhat dis
appointed in Its surroundings, the town
having grown, as Scotch policeman
would say, "over against" it, your en-
trance being close by the end of the
principal tavern of the village. Not
picturesque village inn either, but
down right ordinary country tavern
But whatever your disappointment at
Its entrance, you are fully repaid by a
vision of architectural beauties that
await you within. The Abbey is pro-
nounced by competent judges the fin
est example of Gothic architecture in
Great Britain. 1t was here that the
architects of the great Scott Monument
in Edinburgh, drew much of their in
spiration and found worthy examples to
copy. The Monastery was founded in
1896, and was ten years in building. Its
grandest picture is the great east win
dow, thirty-seven feet high and sixteen
broad. The tracery of this window is
remarkably light. Sir Walter described
it in the Lay OF the Last Minstrel
Thou wouldst have thought some fairy's hand,
Twxt pOplars straight the oser wand
In many a freakish knot had twined;
Then framed spell when the work was done
And changed t! willow wreaths to stone''
1 concluded my trip to Melrose and
wound up the pleasing work of the day
bv taking the train at Melrose and rid
ing to St. Boswell's station. From there
l walked past the Eildon Hills with
their three pointed peaks to Drybugh
Abbey about mile and half distant.
In St. Mary's Aisle of the Abbey lie the
remains of Sir Walter. Here he lies
beside his wife, their burial place mark
ed by one massive slab of granite,
shaped so as to seem two altar tombs.
The simple inscription on his tombstone
read:
SIR WALTER SCOTT, BARoNEr,
DIED SEPTEMBER IL, A. D., 1897.
The approach to Dryburgh Abbey is by
a delightfully."- shaded roadway, sur
rounded by we'll kept lawns and wealth
of foliage. The Abbey is beautifully To-
Gated on promonotory formed by
bold sweep of the river Tweed. The ivy
here has Its most luxuriant growth, and
even trees are seen growing above some
of the arches of the Abbey. Opposite
the entrance to it is an old yew tree
said to have been planted when the
present structure was founded in 1850.
1t is grand old ruin, in the beauty and
peacefulness of its surroundings, a suit.
able resting place for the mortal re-
mans of him who in life illuminated it
with the fire of his genius. As the sun
was casting his rays over the classic
ruin of Dryburgh, grandeur far in its
mellow decay, than in the hey day OF
its feudal sprlngtime, l turned my foot
steps again towards St Boutwell,, reach
ing old Edinboro town safely before
the lingering twilight had faded into
somber night. 1 had spent most en-
joyable day, the pleasures OF which, my
dear friend, can only hope to convey
to you the feeblest impression by this
imperfect description of them. 1 leave
Edinburgh tomorrow for London,
whittier, as you know, all roads lead.
H. R. ToRBERT.