Plays by Alan Richardson

Abbotsford Revisited

The Life, Times and Works of Sir Walter Scott.

    Abbotsford Revisited began life back in 2002 as The Wizard of the North. It was specially written for my own drama group, the Mercators, to be performed at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe. Devised as a dramatised reading, (also called a rehearsed reading - where scripts are used by the cast), it documented the life and dramatised extracts from the works of Sir Walter Scott. In 2010, we decided to stage a revival and take a second look at Scott. The Wizard of the North was something of a prototype, so I welcomed the chance to revise, refine, include new historical facts, and add extracts from some Scott novels that were not included in the 2002 version. The script is drawn from many of the excellent biographies available, particularly those by John Buchan and Hesketh Pearson. Scott’s fragmentary autobiography, letters, journals and the prefaces to his novels also provided a rich source.
    Abbotsford Revisited includes extracts from most of his famous poems - The Lay of the Last Minstrel, Marmion  and The Lady of the Lake, and celebrated novels such as Waverley, The Antiquary, Rob Roy, Ivanhoe, Kenilworth and Redgauntlet. It also includes lesser-known novels like Quentin Durward, St. Ronan’s Well and Count Robert of Paris, and a rare extract from a Scott stage play. The number of performers can be adapted to suit and period costume would be a colourful option.
    Also available is an extended extract from chapter one of Scott's third novel - The Antiquary. With a playing time of approximately 20 minutes, The Queensferry Diligence was created as a non-competitive entry for a local drama festival. Click here for more details and  sample extract)

"...a much more pleasant way to learn about Scott than visiting his monument on Princes Street" - Three Weeks

(Note: M1 = First male reader. M2= Second male reader. F1= First female reader .etc. etc)

F1        In 1822, Scott wrote one of his most consequential works. It wasn't a poem; it wasn’t a novel; it was;

M3      Hints addressed to the inhabitants of Edinburgh and others in prospect of his Majesty's visit, by an old citizen.

F1        By 1822, his friend, the Prince Regent, was now King George IV. Aged sixty, George was grossly overweight and very unpopular. He wanted to go to the Congress of Nations in Vienna but the government didn't want him there. A royal visit to Scotland was the answer. Scott was asked to organise what became known as the "King's Jaunt", the first visit of a British monarch to Scotland for over 170 years.

M3      When his Majesty comes amongst us, he comes to his ancient kingdom of Scotland, and must be received according to ancient usages.

F1        But what exactly were "ancient usages"? Nobody was quite sure. Scott cheerfully mixed truth and invention, and few could tell the difference. For example, he arranged that his Majesty be escorted by the Royal Company of Archers, the ancient bodyguard of Scottish Kings.

One of the male readers (M4) mimes drawing a longbow.

Not quite. The Royal Company of Archers was, in fact, a gentleman's sporting and social club, founded less than two hundred years before.

M4 lowers his bow and skulks back to his seat.  

But the members readily accepted the honour and looked splendid in their new uniforms of Lincoln green. Scottish archers in Lincoln green? Anyway, Scott's book was full of words of advice. Even some helpful hints on how to survive the ordeal of presentation.

M3      The lady (F3) drops her train, when she enters the circle of the King. (This sequence is mimed) She curtsies. The King raises her and salutes her on the cheek. She then retires, always facing the Sovereign till she is beyond the circle. Most painful must be the situation of a lady who is unfortunate as to make a faux pas on such an occasion.

F1        For the men, he was quite specific:

M3      No Gentleman is allowed to appear in anything but the ancient Highland costume.

F1        But what exactly was the "ancient highland costume"? Highland dress as we know it today simply did not, and never did, exist. At that time, the dress of many Highlanders was the plaid - effectively one large rectangular piece of cloth that was wrapped around the waist and secured at the shoulder. That simply would not do for the lowland gentlemen. But they didn't want to miss out on the Royal occasion for want of a bit of tartan. Weaving firms weren't going to miss out either. Taking their leaf out of Scott's book, if a tartan didn't exist, they quickly invented one. Scenes like this possibly happened in wealthy houses throughout Scotland.

M1      What colour had your lordship in mind?

M2 (miming searching amongst garments) How about these trews? I've always liked the green and red. Or there's this waistcoat. The blue goes well with the dark green.

M1      A trifle dull, if I may be so bold. Your lordship will be wanting to stand out amongst the crowds.

M2      Or how about this jacket? A grand purple, with deep red and fine yellow stripes. Yes. I rather fancy this.

M1      A fine choice, if I may say, with perhaps a touch of green to compliment the purple. Now, how many yards of your ancient clan tartan did your lordship require?  

F1        One company built forty new looms to cope with the sudden demand. For those not familiar with the new "ancient" dress, helpful lists were available. 

M2 stands forward while F2 & F3 mime being his "dressers"

F1        A pair of hose. A pair of Highland garters. A pair of Highland brogues. A 'skian dubh'. A tartan kilt. A scarlet vest with true Highlander buttons. A tartan jacket with true Highlander buttons. A cocked bonnet with clan badge and cockade. A purse and belt. A cross shoulder belt. A powder horn with chain. A brace of Highland pistols. A broadsword. And a gun. Thus equipped, Scotland was ready to receive the King and Edinburgh gave him a traditional welcome - a very wet day. George played the gracious sovereign, even to the point of wearing highland dress himself, complete with flesh-coloured tights. Many commented that his kilt was a little too revealing for modesty, but Lady Hamilton thought;

F2        “Since he is to be among us for so short a time, the more we see of him the better.”

M1      Not everybody embraced the new tartan image. Scott's son-in-law, John Lockhart, described the whole event as a "plaided panorama". However, the visit was a great success. The Scottish people found a new sense of national identity and a new national dress. The fashionable tartans of 1822 were refined by the Victorians to become the formal Highland dress we know today, and it was all largely due to the imagination of one man. Next time you're at a kilted wedding - think of Sir Walter Scott.

M2      The following year, another new novel, Quentin Durward, appeared. Set in medieval France, the hero of the title joins King Louis the eleventh's bodyguard of Scottish archers. Now where have we heard that one before? Quentin is entrusted by Louis to escort the Burgundian heiress Isabelle de Croye on a secret journey to Flanders, blissfully unaware that the unscrupulous Louis is plotting the  Lady Isabelle’s abduction. Isabelle and her aunt, Lady Hameline, are travelling incognito, and Lady Hameline has some questions for the gallant Quentin.

F2 (Lady Hameline) Wherefore were you selected for such a duty, young gentleman? You seem young and inexperienced for such a charge — a stranger, too, in France, and speaking the language as a foreigner.

M4      I am bound to obey the commands of the King, madam, but am not qualified to reason on them.

F2        Are you of noble birth?

M4      I may safely affirm so, madam.

F3 (Isabella)   Then methinks, we must be safe under this young gentleman’s safeguard, he looks not, at least, like one to whom the execution of a plan of treacherous cruelty upon two helpless women could be with safety intrusted.

M4      On my honour, by the fame of my house, by the bones of my ancestry, I could not, for France and Scotland laid into one, be guilty of treachery or cruelty towards you!

F2        You speak well, young man, but we are accustomed to hear fair speeches from the King of France and his agents. It was by these that we were induced, when the protection of the Bishop of Liege might have been attained with less risk than now. And in what did the promises of the King result? In an obscure and shameful concealing of us, under plebeian names, as a sort of prohibited wares in yonder paltry hostelry, when we were compelled to attire ourselves, standing on the simple floor, as if we had been two milkmaids.

F3        I would that had been the sorest evil, dear kinswoman. I could gladly have dispensed with state.

F2        But not with society. That, my sweet cousin, was impossible.

F3        I would have dispensed with all, my dearest kinswoman, for a safe and honourable retirement. I wish not — God knows, I never wished — to occasion war betwixt France and my native Burgundy, or that lives should be lost for such as I am. I only implored permission to retire to the Convent of Marmoutier, or to any other holy sanctuary.

F2        You spoke then like a fool, my cousin. How should a high born lady be known from a sunburnt milkmaid, save that spears are broken for the one, and only hazel poles shattered for the other? I tell you that while I was in the very earliest bloom, the famous Passage of Arms at Haflinghem was held in my honour, the challengers were four, the assailants so many as twelve. It lasted three days, and cost the lives of two adventurous knights, the fracture of one backbone, one collarbone, three legs, and two arms, and thus have the ladies of our House ever been honoured. But those days are now over, and no one now thinks of encountering peril for the sake of honour, or to relieve distressed beauty.

The cast of the first production by the Mercators. Edinburgh Festival Fringe, August 2010