Seged, lord of Ethopia

August 19 [1826]—This morning wrote none, excepting extracts, etc., being under the necessity of reading and collating a great deal, which lasted till one o'clock or thereabouts, when Dr. and Mrs. Brewster and their young people came to spend a day of happiness at the lake. We were met there by Captain and Mrs. Hamilton and a full party. Since the days of Seged, Emperor of Ethiopia, these days of appointed sport and happiness have seldom answered; but we came off indifferently well.

Walter Scott’s journal musings for August 19, 1826 reference an Ethopian named Seged, constructed by Samuel Johnson, and published in his Rambler (204 & 205).  Seged enjoyed some lakeside comfort as well, as he planned a ten day vacation: ‘…Seged then ordered the house of pleasure, built in an island of the lake of Dambea, to be prepared for his reception. ``I will retire,'' says he, ``for ten days from tumult and care, from counsels and decrees. Long quiet is not the lot of the governours of nations, but a cessation of ten days cannot be denied me. This short interval of happiness may surely be secured from the interruption of fear or perplexity, sorrow or disappointment. I will exclude all trouble from my abode, and remove from my thoughts whatever may confuse the harmony of the concert, or abate the sweetness of the banquet. I will fill the whole capacity of my soul with enjoyment, and try what it is to live without a wish unsatisfied.''…’

Scott’s reverie ended better than Seged’s:

‘…On the eighth morning Seged was awakened early by an unusual hurry in the apartments, and inquiring the cause, was told that the princess Balkis was seized with sickness. He rose, and calling the physicians, found that they had little hope of her recovery. Here was an end of jollity: all his thoughts were now upon his daughter, whose eyes he closed on the tenth day. 

Such were the days which Seged of Ethiopia had appropriated to a short respiration from the fatigues of war and the cares of government. This narrative he has bequeathed to future generations, that no man hereafter may presume to say, ``This day shall be a day of happiness.''

Charles Edward Stuart at Glenfinnan

The following verses convey but little idea of the feelings with which, so sung and accompanied, they were heard by Waverley:--


There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale,
But more dark is the sleep of the sons of the Gael.
A stranger commanded--it sunk on the land,
It has frozen each heart, and benumb'd every hand!


The dirk and the target lie sordid with dust,
The bloodless claymore is but redden'd with rust;
On the hill or the glen if a gun should appear,
It is only to war with the heath-cock or deer.


The deeds of our sires if our bards should rehearse,
Let a blush or a blow be the meed of their verse!
Be mute every string, and be hush'd every tone,
That shall bid us remember the fame that is flown.


But the dark hours of night and of slumber are past,
The morn on our mountains is dawning at last;
Glenaladale's peaks are illumined with the rays,
And the streams of Glenfinnan leap bright in the blaze.

[Footnote: The young and daring adventurer, Charles Edward, landed at Glenaladale, in Moidart, and displayed his standard in the valley of Glenfinnan, mustering around it the Mac-Donalds, the Camerons, and other less numerous clans, whom he had prevailed on to join him. There is a monument erected on the spot, with a Latin inscription by the late Doctor Gregory.]

As Edward Waverley learns, in Walter Scott's Waverley, Charles Edward Stuart raised his standard at Glenfinnan at the start of the Jacobite Rising of 1745.  This occurred on August 19, of that year.

Henrie Winde

The description of the clan battle in Scott's Maid of Perth is very close to Henry Adamson's poem in his "Muses Threnodie", including the role Henrie Winde played in the battle; right down to the last of the losing clan escaping into the Tay.

...None fought so fiercely, nor so well deserved
As this their hired souldier, Henrie Winde,
For by his valour victory inclinde
Unto that side; and ever since those dayes
This proverb current goes, when any sayes-
How come you here 1 this answer doth he finde,
I'm for mine owne hand, as fought Henrie Winde.
So finely fought he, ten with him escap't,
And of the other but one, in flood who leap't
And sav'd himself by swimming over Tay,
But to speak more of this we might not stay...