THE TALISMAN
By Sir Walter Scott, Bart.
INTRODUCTION TO THE TALISMAN.
The "Betrothed" did not greatly please one or two friends, who
thought that it did not well correspond to the general title of
"The Crusaders." They urged, therefore, that, without direct
allusion to the manners of the Eastern tribes, and to the
romantic conflicts of the period, the title of a "Tale of the
Crusaders" would resemble the playbill, which is said to have
announced the tragedy of Hamlet, the character of the Prince of
Denmark being left out. On the other hand, I felt the difficulty
of giving a vivid picture of a part of the world with which I was
almost totally unacquainted, unless by early recollections of the
Arabian Nights'' Entertainments; and not only did I labour under
the incapacity of ignorance--in which, as far as regards Eastern
manners, I was as thickly wrapped as an Egyptian in his fog--but
my contemporaries were, many of them, as much enlightened upon
the subject as if they had been inhabitants of the favoured land
of Goshen. The love of travelling had pervaded all ranks, and
carried the subjects of Britain into all quarters of the world.
Greece, so attractive by its remains of art, by its struggles for
freedom against a Mohammedan tyrant, by its very name, where
every fountain had its classical legend--Palestine, endeared to
the imagination by yet more sacred remembrances--had been of late
surveyed by British eyes, and described by recent travellers.
Had I, therefore, attempted the difficult task of substituting
manners of my own invention, instead of the genuine costume of
the East, almost every traveller I met who had extended his route
beyond what was anciently called "The Grand Tour," had acquired a
right, by ocular inspection, to chastise me for my presumption.
Every member of the Travellers'' Club who could pretend to have
thrown his shoe over Edom was, by having done so, constituted my
lawful critic and corrector. It occurred, therefore, that where
the author of Anastasius, as well as he of Hadji Baba, had
described the manners and vices of the Eastern nations, not only
with fidelity, but with the humour of Le Sage and the ludicrous
power of Fielding himself, one who was a perfect stranger to the
subject must necessarily produce an unfavourable contrast. The
Poet Laureate also, in the charming tale of "Thalaba," had shown
how extensive might be the researches of a person of acquirements
and talent, by dint of investigation alone, into the ancient
doctrines, history, and manners of the Eastern countries, in
which we are probably to look for the cradle of mankind; Moore,
in his "Lalla Rookh," had successfully trod the same path; in
which, too, Byron, joining ocular experience to extensive
reading, had written some of his most attractive poems. In a
word, the Eastern themes had been already so successfully handled
by those who were acknowledged to be masters of their craft, that
I was diffident of making the attempt.
These were powerful objections; nor did they lose force when they
became the subject of anxious reflection, although they did not
finally prevail. The arguments on the other side were, that
though I had no hope of rivalling the contemporaries whom I have
mentioned, yet it occurred to me as possible to acquit myself of
the task I was engaged in without entering into competition with
them.
The period relating more immediately to the Crusades which I at
last fixed upon was that at which the warlike character of
Richard I., wild and generous, a pattern of chivalry, with all
its extravagant virtues, and its no less absurd errors, was
opposed to that of Saladin, in which the Christian and English
monarch showed all the cruelty and violence of an Eastern sultan,
and Saladin, on the other hand, displayed the deep policy and
prudence of a European sovereign, whilst each contended which
should excel the other in the knightly qualities of bravery and
generosity. This singular contrast afforded, as the author
conceived, materials for a work of fiction possessing peculiar
interest. One of the inferior characters introduced was a
supposed relation of Richard Coeur de Lion--a violation of the
truth of history which gave offence to Mr. Mills, the author of
the "History of Chivalry and the Crusades," who was not, it may
be presumed, aware that romantic fiction naturally includes the
power of such invention, which is indeed one of the requisites of
the art.
Prince David of Scotland, who was actually in the host, and was
the hero of some very romantic adventures on his way home, was
also pressed into my service, and constitutes one of my DRAMATIS
PERSONAE.
It is true I had already brought upon the field him of the lion
heart. But it was in a more private capacity than he was here to
be exhibited in the Talisman--then as a disguised knight, now in
the avowed character of a conquering monarch; so that I doubted
not a name so dear to Englishmen as that of King Richard I. might
contribute to their amusement for more than once.
I had access to all which antiquity believed, whether of reality
or fable, on the subject of that magnificent warrior, who was the
proudest boast of Europe and their chivalry, and with whose
dreadful name the Saracens, according to a historian of their own
country, were wont to rebuke their startled horses. "Do you
think," said they, "that King Richard is on the track, that you
stray so wildly from it?" The most curious register of the
history of King Richard is an ancient romance, translated
originally from the Norman; and at first certainly having a
pretence to be termed a work of chivalry, but latterly becoming
stuffed with the most astonishing and monstrous fables. There is
perhaps no metrical romance upon record where, along with curious
and genuine history, are mingled more absurd and exaggerated
incidents. We have placed in the Appendix to this Introduction
the passage of the romance in which Richard figures as an ogre,
or literal cannibal.
A principal incident in the story is that from which the title is
derived. Of all people who ever lived, the Persians were perhaps
most remarkable for their unshaken credulity in amulets, spells,
periapts, and similar charms, framed, it was said, under the
influence of particular planets, and bestowing high medical
powers, as well as the means of advancing men''s fortunes in
various manners. A story of this kind, relating to a Crusader of
eminence, is often told in the west of Scotland, and the relic
alluded to is still in existence, and even yet held in
veneration.
Sir Simon Lockhart of Lee and Gartland made a considerable figure
in the reigns of Robert the Bruce and of his son David. He was
one of the chief of that band of Scottish chivalry who
accompanied James, the Good Lord Douglas, on his expedition to
the Holy Land with the heart of King Robert Bruce. Douglas,
impatient to get at the Saracens, entered into war with those of
Spain, and was killed there. Lockhart proceeded to the Holy Land
with such Scottish knights as had escaped the fate of their
leader and assisted for some time in the wars against the
Saracens.
The following adventure is said by tradition to have befallen
him:He made prisoner in battle an Emir of considerable wealth and
consequence. The aged mother of the captive came to the
Christian camp, to redeem her son from his state of captivity.
Lockhart is said to have fixed the price at which his prisoner
should ransom himself; and the lady, pulling out a large
embroidered purse, proceeded to tell down the ransom, like a
mother who pays little respect to gold in comparison of her son''s
liberty. In this operation, a pebble inserted in a coin, some
say of the Lower Empire, fell out of the purse, and the Saracen
matron testified so much haste to recover it as gave the Scottish
knight a high idea of its value, when compared with gold or
silver. "I will not consent," he said, "to grant your son''s
liberty, unless that amulet be added to his ransom." The lady
not only consented to this, but explained to Sir Simon Lockhart
the mode in which the talisman was to be used, and the uses to
which it might be put. The water in which it was dipped operated
as a styptic, as a febrifuge, and possessed other properties as a
medical talisman.
Sir Simon Lockhart, after much experience of the wonders which it
wrought, brought it to his own country, and left it to his heirs,
by whom, and by Clydesdale in general, it was, and is still,
distinguished by the name of the Lee-penny, from the name of his
native seat of Lee.
The most remarkable part of its history, perhaps, was that it so
especially escaped condemnation when the ...
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