The charm that lies in a mysterious name has been amply exemplified in that of the Trossachs, which is said to mean “bristled territory.” Something in the shaggy uncouthness of the word fits so well with the land of romance and mountain scenery that it has drawn tens of thousands to make the round between Glasgow and Edinburgh, by rail and coach and steamer, who, if the name had not been so mysteriously attractive, might never have bestirred themselves at all. Since the publication of Rob Roy and The Lady of the Lake the principal actors in these dramas have been just as real and important to the imaginative tourist as the familiar names of history. It is nothing to them that Rob Roy, of the clan of Macgregor, was merely a Highland thief: his character, invested by Scott with the charm of a magician’s pen, has made him as heroic as the great Wallace himself; while Ellen, the Lady of the Lake, wholly born of the poet’s imagination, has become only second to Mary Queen of Scots.

Scott has certainly done much for the land of his birth: not only has he enriched its literature for all time, and raised its literary standing in the eyes of nations, but he has done more for it commercially than almost any other writer has ever done for any country in bringing to it streams of visitors, especially from across the Atlantic. The gold flowing from the coffers of the Sassenach into the pouches of the Gael is a perennial blessing which could hardly have been secured in any other way.

We are told that on the appearance of The Lady of the Lake, “the whole country rang with the praises of the poet; crowds set off to view the scenery of Loch Katrine, till then comparatively unknown; and as the book came out just before the season for excursions, every house and inn in that neighbourhood was crammed with a constant succession of visitors. From the date of the publication of The Lady of the Lake, the post-horse duty in Scotland rose in an extraordinary degree, and it continued to do so for a number of years, the author’s succeeding works keeping up the enthusiasm for our scenery which he had originally created.”

There are fairer spots in Scotland than the Trossachs, beautiful as they are; yet, notwithstanding this, their popularity remains unabated. The trip certainly has the advantage of being accessible; it can be “done” in a day from either Edinburgh or Glasgow, and this is a great recommendation to those who are going on to “do” Europe in record time. Then, again, anyone who has seen Edinburgh and the Trossachs is fairly safe in saying he has seen Scotland, whereas one of wider range, who had, say, gone up the Highland Railway to Inverness and returned via the Caledonian Canal, if unmindful of the Trossachs, would be taunted with his omission every time the subject was mentioned.

However, the greatly increased facilities of steamer and rail do doubtless tend to send people farther afield, and the much longer round via the Caledonian Canal can count its hundreds where it previously counted units.

Until Scott’s time the Trossachs were little known, but then the cult of scenery-worship as we know it had not been evolved. That they were somewhat known is shown in Dorothy Wordsworth’s Journal.

When William Wordsworth, with his sister and the poet Coleridge, made a tour in 1803, they were met at Loch Katrine (coming from Loch Lomond) with stares of amusement from the peasants. “There were no boats,” says Dorothy in her Journal, “and no lodging nearer than Callander, ten miles beyond the foot of the lake. A laugh was on every face when William said we were come to see the Trossachs; no doubt they thought we had better have stayed at our own homes. William endeavoured to make it appear not so very foolish by informing them that it was a place much celebrated in England, though perhaps little thought of by them.” This was six years before the publication of the great poem.

The Trossachs proper are the irregularly-shaped hills and rocks, covered with a thick growth of bristling firs, that lie between Loch Katrine and Loch Vennachar, and along the shores of little Loch Achray. But the name is generally taken to mean the whole round, including the traversing of Loch Lomond, as well as Loch Katrine, and the road journey.

Much the most usual route is from either Glasgow or Edinburgh, via Callander; but a secondary one, which has great attraction for some people, is that by Aberfoyle, which cuts into the heart of the Trossachs from the south. This has the disadvantage of missing Loch Vennachar; but, truth to tell, the coach drive along by Loch Vennachar is not beautiful, and were it not illumined by romantic imagination, and regarded as a prelude or epilogue to something better, it could easily be dispensed with.

The outline of the story of The Lady of the Lake is supposed to be known to everyone, but there are few who could give it off-hand. The principal character, and the only one not fictitious, is that of James V. of Scotland, and his habit of wandering incognito among his people is used to further the plot. The poem opens with a stag-hunt, when the fine animal, after leading his pursuers a tremendous dance, plunges into the Trossachs and disappears from view. Only one horseman has been able to follow up the chase, and his steed at this juncture drops down dead, leaving his master to scramble onward to Loch Katrine as best he can. This he does, and as he stands on the shore he sees a boat rowed by a young girl rapidly approaching, coming out from a little island. She tells him he is expected—in fact, his visit has been foretold by a soothsayer, Allan Bane—and asks him to come to the island and receive the hospitality of her father’s house. She is Ellen, daughter to one of the outlawed Douglases, who have been in arms against their King.

The girl’s mother receives the stranger courteously on his arrival, and he announces himself as James Fitz-James. He remains with them that night, and leaves next morning before the return of Douglas with Ellen’s young lover, Malcolm Graeme, and a powerful rebel, Roderick Dhu, the head of Clan MacAlpine, the Macgregors.

This man tries to gain Ellen’s hand as the price of his support of her father, but his suit is unsuccessful.

The next day, determined on a wild rising against the King, who is known to be at Stirling with his Court, Roderick sends the fiery cross round to summon his followers to Lanrick Mead. The cross is made by the priest—

This was dipped in the blood of a slaughtered goat and scathed with flame. Then the priest shook it on high, shouting:

Roderick’s servant, Malise, seizing the cross, starts off through the Trossachs, and along Loch Achray to Duncraggan, where he hands the symbol on to “Angus, heir of Duncan’s line,” who carries it along Vennachar and up to the pass of Leny, passing it on to a bridegroom on Loch Lubnaig, and so it follows round all the haunts of the clan.

Ellen and her father meantime retreat to a cave on Ben Venue. Here she accidentally meets again the fascinating stranger, who tries to persuade her to elope with him; but she tells him of her love for young Malcolm, and he honourably refrains from pressing his suit; instead he gives her a ring which, he says, was given him by the King, with a promise that on its production the King would fulfil any request of the wearer. Meantime he is being watched by Roderick Dhu as a spy, and Roderick sends a so-called guide to conduct him out of the labyrinth; but the guide is one of the clan Murdoch, who has secret orders to kill the stranger so soon as he gets him alone. The seer has proclaimed that whichever side first kills one of the other will win in the trial of strength now about to begin, and when Roderick hears this he rejoices to think that by treachery the lot will fall to him.

Fitz-James, however, is warned by a half-witted woman wandering in the wood, and when he discloses his suspicions he is shot at by Murdoch, who, however, misses him and kills the woman instead. Fitz-James, furious at this barbarity, promptly kills him, and, cutting off a tress of the dying woman’s hair, swears to kill the chief, Roderick Dhu, the author of this foul deed, whenever he shall meet him. He wanders on in the wilderness of trees and rocks, and, as night is coming on, he loses himself.

Beside it is a huge Highlander, who is at first churlish and inclined to resent the intrusion; but the inbred virtue of hospitality conquers, and he allows the stranger to share his camp, promising to see him safe as far as Coilantogle Ford next morning. However, in the morning the two quarrel, and the great Highlander is revealed as Roderick Dhu himself. Roderick is furious at hearing of the death of Murdoch, but would have kept his word and given his guest safe-conduct had not Fitz-James, burning to be at him, absolved him from it, and they fight close by the ford. Just as Roderick is about to stab his foe mortally he himself sinks down, overcome with loss of blood, and some men-at-arms from Stirling ride up, greeting Fitz-James as the King. They carry the senseless body of Roderick back with them to Stirling.

When the King is once again in his own fortress games and sports take place, and Ellen’s father, who has dared to attend them incognito, reveals himself in a burst of temper and is captured.

Ellen now makes her way to Stirling, carrying the ring, which proves an Open Sesame, and discovers to her astonishment the “knight in Lincoln green” who wooed her in the forest is no other than the monarch himself. James keeps his word, forgives her father, and pledges her to young Malcolm. Roderick, whose crimes would have made him difficult to pardon, conveniently dies, and the story finishes happily.

Scott was very particular that the scenery of his plot should be correct, and visited the Trossachs carefully, and even rode from Loch Vennachar to Stirling, to make sure of the possibility of the feat he attributed to Fitz-James. In view of the warlike nature of the poem, Lockhart remarks it was rather an odd coincidence that the first time Scott entered the Trossachs he did so “riding in all the dignity of danger, with a front and rear guard and loaded arms, to enforce the execution of a legal instrument against some Maclarens, refractory tenants of Stewart of Appin.”