Sir Walter Scott’s Quentin Durward was one of three novels Scott issued in 1823. The first edition was printed in 10,000 copies, the sheets carried in bales by steamship to London on May 16, 1823, where binders worked the night through. Hurst, Robinson & Co. had purchased 8,180 books for £7,600, and by 11 A.M. on May 17, the novels arrived in three volumes to booksellers, with additional sets sent into the country.
The novel features Scott’s trademark interest in history, focusing on 15th-century France during the reign of King Louis XI. At that time, the monarch was feuding with Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, whose ambitions included taking over the throne and acquiring more territory. William de la Marck, whose nickname, the Wild Boar of the Ardennes, threateningly foreshadows problems to come, supports Louis’s cause by agreeing to create a rebellion against Burgundy’s forces in Liège.
At this point, the novel’s protagonist, Quentin Durward, is introduced as a young Scottish archer, a guard serving Louis, whose responsibility becomes to provide safe escort for the Burgundian heiress, Isabelle de Croye. She is traveling to Liège seeking the protection of its bishop, Louis of Bourbon, to avoid an arranged marriage to Count Campo-Basso, an Italian who serves Burgundy.
Scott laces the quest with various anticipated dangers from Burgundy but adds interest by indicting William de la Marck’s activities as irresponsible. His wild nature, of course, is what recommended him to Louis, but Scott makes clear the double-edged sword such a rebel may represent. He balances La Marck’s irresponsible proclivities with Durward’s level-headed approach, inserting detail regarding his hero’s nature: “With more than his wonted care, [he had] seen that everything was prepared for the day’s journey. Girths and bridles, the horse furniture, and the shoes of the horses themselves, were carefully inspected with his own eyes, that there might be as little chance as possible of the occurrence of any of those casualties, which, petty as they seem, often interrupt or disconcert traveling.” Thus, Scott emphasizes that erring on the side of caution, as Shakespeare had suggested in his history plays, is often the preferred approach.
Durward’s characterization as “the Scot,” a frequent reference, who brings much-needed steadfastness in a volatile situation, would interest new historicist critics, considering the popular views of Scots as perhaps too staid at times. Later, Scott proves Durward’s prowess in a scene of attack upon the bishop, writing that whoever had witnessed Durward’s seemingly frantic activity, not understanding its motivation, might have labeled him “a raging madman.” However, “whoever had appreciated his motives, had ranked him nothing beneath a hero of romance.”
He also tempers praise of Durward’s heritage to emphasize that the value of the individual, not of any particular group, remains crucial. When Isabelle hopes to flee to Scotland for safety, Durward truthfully confesses, “I scarce know that my blood flows in the veins of an individual who now lives in my native land.” He goes on to explain that clans continue to battle one another “for little more than the pleasure of revenge and the lust of bloodshed,” and would readily attack a representative of the French king. Durward does later meet up with his uncle, Le Balafré, and their respectful and affectionate interaction assures readers that family connections may supersede all political ties. Scott does not wander too far from his traditional support of his forbearers, as another character, Lord Crawford, declares of Durward, “My dear boy—my own lad! . . . Ye think like a Scot, every joint of you!”
When La Marck murders the bishop, Isabelle is physically and emotionally threatened, as are Louis’s plans for control of Burgundy and his forces. However, the loyal guard Durward well fulfills his duties. He eventually confronts La Marck in a scene in which they are described as “the wolf and the wolf-dog.” In a move that 21st-century readers would find amusing, Durward requests that his enemy wait for a few minutes while he helps Isabelle escape danger. Le Balafré takes over the fight with his two-handed sword and appears a short time later dangling La Marck’s severed head.
The novel concludes with Durward awarded Isabelle as the comely treasure that ends his quest, after Lord Crawford makes clear to King Louis that Durward is descended from Allan Durward, High Steward of Scotland. Feminist critics find little to admire in the mostly passive characterization of Isabelle, who must play the trophy damsel-in-distress to Durward’s hero.
Scott feels obliged to explain any deviations from historical accounts in his story, and he inserts various footnotes to that end. For example, he footnotes the murder of the bishop of Liège, Louis de Bourbon, to advise readers that he has collapsed history in the service of fiction, allowing the death to occur some 14 years previous to the true murder date of 1482, adding that a rumor of the bishop’s murder had circulated during the year Scott chooses for that deed, 1468. Such painstaking attempts to be faithful to reality, in addition to Scott’s usual healthy infusion of detail, did help educate his audience regarding events crucial to England’s future, due to its relationships with France.
This popular tale was transformed into a stage play and an opera and remains eminently readable for romance-novel aficionados. While not Scott’s most successful book, it remained respectably popular; the original manuscript of 224 leaves is housed in the National Library of Scotland.
Bibliography
Alexander, J. H., and G. A. M. Wood, eds. “Essay on the Text.” Quentin Durward by Sir Walter Scott. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2001, 403–446.
Bird, Elizabeth. The Sources and the Literary Character of Scott’s Quentin Durward. Champaign/Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1933.
Duncan, Ian. Modern Romance and Transformations of the Novel: The Gothic, Scott and Dickens. Boston: Cambridge University Press, 1992.
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